When Aliens Weep: An Alien Apocalyptic Saga (Species Intervention #6609 Book 7)

by J. K. Accinni

  “Try not to make yourself sick over this, Hud. We need information before we can come up with a plan. Netty . . . do you know what our first step should be?” Abby appealed to her mentor.

  “I don’t know, my dear. Let’s see if Baby or Echo can answer some questions.” The words were still resonating around the room when the two minions proudly entered, Chloe on their heels. Their new butterflies sat preening on their antlers, dancing light from their trails of fire that reflected on the walls of the Womb.

  Chloe settled into a comfortable round chair with huge red and green spots; an obvious attempt at someone’s idea of pleasing décor. “I can’t sleep,” she said, rubbing her huge abdomen, her bright eyes radiating admiration for the sparks of fire highlighting the minion’s fire butterflies.

  Netty turned to Baby who was settling in Wil’s lap.

  “I know what you seek, Sister. I am not the one with the answers. We must speak with a navigator. If anyone can give hope to Sister Bonnie and Brother Hud it would be one of them. Unfortunately, they are all spoken for. Their talent is valuable and much in need. Perhaps a meeting with Brother Forbation will be of great value.”

  Netty nodded her head as her brain absorbed the auras that saturated her mind. “Baby, I have a question if you don’t mind. I understand the solemnness of the celebration we attended tonight but may I inquire into the meaning of the offerings everyone made to the . . . eh . . . entity in the floor?”

  Hud and the rest of the survivors listened closely as Wil and Netty related the mystery of the ceremony they had witnessed.

  Many of the survivors cringed upon hearing of the recipient of the offering. “I don’t understand, girl. What the heck was that all about?” demanded Jose.

  Baby and Echo moved towards each other, joining hands. They bowed their heads together as they sent mind auras to everyone. The tentative nature of the auras confused the survivors. Finally, the minions sat on the floor and began.

  “The Womb is a singular life force, unlike anything in existence anywhere. We don’t know when the Womb came into being nor do we always understand the reasons behind its directives. A few principles are very clear. The Womb is our creator. We are eternally grateful for the life that has been granted to us. It is our aim to live up to the honor even as we are reminded of our ancestors’ transgressions and fall from grace. Yes, we have been punished but luckily, the Womb is sometimes forgiving. It is part of our culture that whenever a species or an intervention brings about the eradication of life, we honor the Womb’s decision with a sacrifice of our own. It is in recognition of the other life lost and the sparing of our lives when we disobeyed the Womb; creating life from our own cells that would evolve into you, my Brother and Sisters.”

  Baby continued. “What you saw at the ceremony was the giving of a part of ourselves to the Womb in respect. Our antlers hold the precious emulsion that contains our defense system. Without that we would perish when we visit other civilizations for study. It is our only protection and our most valued possession. A befitting sacrifice under the circumstances, don’t you agree?”

  Baby glanced around at the blank faces of the humans. Cobby was the first to speak.

  “I’m sure we will understand in time, Baby. But if the Womb felt humans no longer deserved to live, yet allowed us to live, why destroy the entire planet?”

  This time it was Echo who answered. “I am so sorry, Brother Cobby. But it was not the decision of the Womb to let you live. The planet didn’t stand a chance once the Womb realized the evil in man would never change. It will always be there. The propensity for violence, the coveting of that which does not belong to humans . . . It was Brother Forbation that saved you. In his wisdom, he saw a reason to warn us by sending the nooglets to us. If we could complete our task of turning the wildlife back to the Hive and into the portal we would be allowed to save other life. The life we have come to love. You . . . my Brothers and Sisters.”

  “But what about all the others, Echo? You loved them too.” Cobby kneaded his knotted brow, grief for his friends dripping from his voice. The aura came slow . . . soft . . . contrite.

  “Time, Brother. Time. So much happened . . . unplanned for. Time just ran out.”

  A sob was heard from Abby, her tail flexing madly in the air. “But why the entire planet Echo . . . why?”

  Baby raised his glowing eyes to look them all in the face. His aura weighed heavily in their minds, dim and slow.

  “Earth was doomed anyway, my Brothers and Sisters. The Womb only exacerbated the process. The meteor that was headed toward Earth would have done everlasting damage. It was stuck in a gravitational tug of war with a larger planet. It would have altered the tilt of the Earth, sending it into a new orbit with the sun. The new orbit would have taken it far from the life-giving rays of the sun that creates the temperate climate needed to sustain life. As the Earth’s new orbit took it further away, it would not return close enough to melt the frozen crust of the planet for eleven years. And that would only occur after the numerous volcanoes of the planet blanketed the atmosphere with ash. Everything left after the initial collision would die, slowly.” Baby’s aura paused.

  “Normally a planet called Saturn would have protected Earth from the deadly meteor. Saturn is huge compared to Earth but its size diminishes a fraction every year, allowing space debris to slip by and lessening the power of the ricochet of debris into deep space, thereby protecting Earth. It was only a matter of time. The nudge given by the Womb was actually more humane.”

  Maniacal laughter was heard from the entrance to a new bedroom. It was Bonnie.

  “You all sit here whining about the past. That’s rich. We are all alive. We’re the lucky ones. We can’t do anything about those that were left behind. They’re gone. Gone, you hear?” She pounded her fist on the palm of her hand, her tear-streaked face red and swollen. Her eyes blazed with pain and insanity. “Where is my husband? Where?” Her fists slapped her palm in rhythm with her bitter words. Her eyes flashed madly, searching. “Hud? Tell them. We need to find Ginger Mae.” She ran to Hud, her fists on his chest, her face upraised beseechingly. “Pretty please, Hud? Make them understand. Make them find Peter. I need to find Peter.” Her voice rose hysterically.

  Kenya turned her face into Kane’s chest and began to cry softly. Reflections of anguish remained on everyone’s faces as Hud slipped his arms under Bonnie’s legs and, with a nod to Netty, carried Bonnie back to the bedroom, Netty trailing behind.

  The room filled with silence, Kenya’s sobs finally trailing off. Jose stood slowly, a mystified expression overtaking his sadness. “Does anyone hear that?”

  Cobby spoke up. “Hear what?” They all listened intently. “I don’t hear anything.”

  “Well, I certainly do.” Jose hurried into the hallway that led to the blocked pathway, marking the entrance to the rest of the Womb. He stopped suddenly as he witnessed overhead the hurried flight of hundreds of minions heading outside where the clang of a signal called them. The rest of the survivors hurried after him.

  Abby called to Echo. “Hurry, girl. Something’s going on.” The hallway lit up as Echo and Baby entered with their fire butterflies firmly attached. Baby fluttered into the air, joining the flow of minions. Within minutes, he was back on the ground with the survivors.

  “We must go back. There is great danger.”

  Jose waved Baby away, flipping caution to the wind. “What possible danger could we be in? We’re here on Oolaha. Nothing bad happens here. This is where the Womb lives, for heaven’s sake.” He dashed outside with the minions, the survivors trailing reluctantly.

  A scene of haphazard chaos met their eyes. Minions were dropping from the sky like leaden raindrops, shrinking back out of the way as Forbation stood hunched over, swatting at them with a glistening ebony stick. From across the field a sphere was being gravitated their way, a few minions fluttering above. The strange moon of their new planet shed green-tinged light on the haphazard scene, throwing long sinister s
hadows over the landscape. As the sphere drew closer, the multitude of minions heeded Forbation’s admonitions and wobbled their way far from the path. Baby threw out his golden arms, reflexively protecting his survivor family.

  “What the heck is going on?” Jose demanded. He stepped out toward the path to the sphere, Echo’s aura pleading with him for great caution. Everyone froze as the sphere approached, seemingly of its own volition.

  The closer it got, the more it became clear something was wrong. The sphere was rolling, not gliding as it should have been. The minions that controlled the gravitational device fluttered helplessly high in the sky. Jose could make out a form inside the sphere, vague and sinuous.

  Suddenly, as the sphere stopped in front of Jose, a golden bullet with a fire butterfly on her antler shot from inside the Womb. She was carrying a large sack. Flying above the sphere, Navigator IV dumped the contents of the sack on the sphere. They watched as it flowed down the sides where they could plainly see a network of spider fractures spreading across the surface of the sphere. But not before Jose glimpsed the most amazing sight.

  Inside the sphere stood what appeared to be an eight-foot-tall sunflower, its form curvy and slender as if to model the human female form. Its olive leaves branched out like arms, gripping the sphere from side to side. But it was its flower that most entranced Jose. It sparkled with the power of the sun, gleaming, glowing and hot.

  Inside the almost molten head of the flower peered eyes, sensuous and becoming; they were looking straight at Jose. What the heck . . . is that thing flirting with me?

  “Brother Jose, please look away from the trypid. It is very dangerous. It does not belong here. Please, please . . . I must insist.” Forbation raised his ebony stick at Jose. Luckily he managed to get another glimpse of the enchanting creature before the substance from IV’s bag sealed the fragmenting sphere for good. And what a glimpse it was. For in the very last seconds, he could swear that it bared a human-like breast with its leafy appendage and fluttered long lashes over the beguiling eyes and sculptured cheekbones of his beloved Abby.

  Jose swiveled his head madly. “Did you see that, Kane? Kenya?” He peered over their shoulder spying the elusive Daisy hanging back in the shadows cast by the moon. “Abby. Where’s Abby?”

  “Hey, Daisy. Come on over here.”

  She approached slowly.

  “Come on, kid. What’re you doing hanging back there like a wallflower? You’re supposed to be a star now. Do you mind telling me what was up with that creature?”

  Before Daisy could speak, the sphere was attacked by the minions. Dozens more flew to the sphere to empty their sacks of the contents, encapsulating the creature inside.

  Jose felt a sudden tug on his chest. He looked down, seeing nothing. The tug came again as he watched the IV minion navigate the sphere into the Womb to disappear. The strange tugs stopped. The flying minions landed on the ground to huddle with Forbation, the ancient minion, wildly gesticulating and throwing black auras into the minds of the bystanders. As the crowd of minions took back up into the sky to flit directly into the Womb, Forbation turned to the survivors and headed their way.

  He cast his aura into their minds, the darkness and thunderous aura instilling alarm and fear. Failing to understand, they grouped tightly together, fully reminded that Oolaha was a new world and they were at its mercy.

  Jose began to whimper. He screwed up his courage to speak as everyone else cowered with trepidation, not knowing what might happen next. “Where’s Abby? I saw her. That thing has Abby.”

  Forbation’s aura lightened, trying hard to exert calm. “No, my Brother. The thing that you saw was a trypid. It is an evil and monstrous creature.” Forbation wiped his hand across his brow. He looked to the sky in supplication. “Womb, forgive us.”

  “What is going on here, Forbation?” Netty strolled up to the group, her lion-like tail held high, Abby and Cobby trailing her.

  Jose gasped in surprise. “Where have you been, Abby?”

  Netty raised her hand for silence. “We passed minions in the hallway. They are frantic. I feel deep disturbance.”

  Forbation nodded. “It is cause for concern, Sister. But fear not. We will contain the menace. It has just caught us by surprise. We prayed we had seen the last of this species.”

  Jose looked up in doubt. “Menace? It looked harmless to me. What are you doing to the poor thing, Forbation?”

  “It is none of your concern, Brother Jose. Please take the rest of the survivors back inside. I ask that you stay in your quarters and get some sleep.” Forbation turned to leave.

  “You will learn of the dangers of other life forms soon enough. They are not all benevolent like my species. Good night.”

  With those cryptic words, Forbation hobbled back to the Womb, disappearing from sight. The survivors were left with nothing to do but follow his advice.

  Three Days AE (After Earth)

  Chapter 6

  Ginger Mae wondered how long she’d been held captive. All she knew was overwhelming loneliness and pain. No longer did sleep promise her a temporary sanctuary. From time to time she would reach out after being awakened by the hot burning smell that propelled her from her nightmares. The pervasive odor of terror that accompanied her captors penetrated her senses with strains of fear just as Pavlov’s dogs salivated over their own stimulus. Only Ginger Mae’s stimulus was that of dread that fortunately receded as she awoke, leaving her to discover a fresh batch of protein mush and chalky water. Wonderful, cool, healing water.

  She pulled herself upright and allowed the fingers on her healthy arm to be her eyes that searched greedily for the source of the water. She fumbled along the floor until they hit upon the container. She carefully lifted it to her lips that had lost their tight parched feeling. No longer did her throat burn and feel scorched when she swallowed her saliva or the sustenance her captors left for her. She was healing.

  Well . . . at least her body was. Her mind still functioned in a panic, her dreams confusing and scary. She propped herself into a sitting position as she ate, trying to dismiss the puzzle that the residue of anxiety from her dreams left behind. All she could remember was the faceless, nebulous bodies that surrounded her in her dreams. They seemed to pull at her as their arms tried to reach for her, yet never made contact; with the exception of one hand. One large hand that she swore she could actually feel. She rubbed her shoulder where the heavy hand had touched, her skin alive and strangely tingling. She felt an unexplained yearning to feel the touch again.

  Dismissing the dream as just a manifestation of her loneliness, she lay back down and absently picked at the bandages across her eyes.

  Her body froze as a sound reached her ears. She held her breath, her heart tripping faster than she could use the oxygen it pumped to her brain. Forcing herself to calm down, she slowed her breath to listen; the darkness suddenly alive with possibilities.

  She froze again. Was that a scrape? The sound disappeared as she strained her ears to catch the direction from which it came, but all they registered was silence.

  Ginger Mae lay like a rock but her senses were on fire. Desperation finally made her sit up again as her enclosure engulfed her with its silence. Tentatively, she spoke, keeping her voice low and tremulous.

  “Hello? Is anyone there? I won’t hurt you. Please . . . can you speak to me?” Her only response was silence. Not one to give up, she tried to rise to her feet in an unsteady manner, falling back on her mat in frustration. Her injured wrist began to throb again, waking up hundreds of nerve endings that sent messages of hot, livid agony to her confused brain.

  Gritting her teeth and taking long controlled breaths, she rose to her knees. Using her good arm to help propel her, she crawled away from her pallet. It was time to explore her prison. Maybe then she could assess her possibility of escape more intelligently. If she actually discovered the source of the sounds . . . well she would wait and see. But as much as she was loath to admit it to herself, she knew the sounds
had been a leftover manifestation of her dreams and the loneliness of the dark that threatened to consume her.

  Working slowly and cautiously, she tried to keep her bearing as she moved in a straight line. Her knees quickly rebelled from the rough floor of her prison, clearly not built for comfort. When she could no longer tolerate the punishment to her knees, she stood up on her feet. Throwing out her arms, she attempted to stabilize herself, her head reeling with vertigo. How can that be if I can’t see?

  Her dizziness thankfully receding, she inched her feet forward; one tiny step at a time. She held her good arm out before her and kept her injured one close to her waist to protect it, the wrapping on it heavy and cumbersome.

  Under her breath, she counted each tiny step until she reached the number sixty one. Unless she’d started from the opposite wall, she imagined her enclosure wasn’t as small as she’d originally thought. She slid her good arm wide along the wall confronting her. It was a hard surface of a material she couldn’t identify; cold to the touch with the feeling of pliant marble. Pliant marble? she asked herself as the wall gave under pressure from her hand.

  Giving her body a quarter turn, she traced the now frigid wall with her hand as she continued counting her small steps, hoping to understand the complete contour of the room and wind up back at her pallet where she could take refuge against the increasing cold.

  She made her way along the wall with her wrap held tightly for warmth. She counted under her breath. Forty five, forty six, forty seven . . . Ow! Down she went with a resounding thud, her hand hitting flesh that moved with a groan to push her off onto the floor.

  Realizing she’d just tripped over something alive, her nerves battled with her fight or flight response. Her loneliness won. Swallowing, she moistened her lips and breathed deeply, her voice seemingly absent.