Attack of the Rockoids

by Gene Steinberg

  “Sounds great. Where is it?”

  Jennifer pointed up and said, “Right here.”

  Ray looked up and saw a huge spiral building that must have been one hundred stories tall. His nervous feelings intensified. She was actually taking him to her apartment; she must have planned this trip. He felt excited, yet a little frightened; everything was happening way too fast.

  Ray always had trouble with relationships; they were usually short-term, with abrupt but quiet breakups.

  How long had it been since he had female company? Ray didn’t dare to think. Months at least, even if one subtracted his passage to the future. He hadn’t spent much time with Pat before that fateful trip; she had always been busy with work, he with his programming.

  He made his decision.

  “Let’s go!”

  “Come on in. I’m starting to get cold!” exclaimed Jennifer.

  Indeed, the air was infused with the feeling of late fall, with a chilly breeze. His short-sleeved shirt didn’t quite seem up to the task of keeping him warm and comfortable.

  They walked together at a brisk pace through the entrance, heading inside the building. The furnishings in the large lobby were sumptuous, with rich white and brown carpets, fancy sofas, and comfortable-looking chairs and tables. The lighting had a sort of fluorescent look, but Ray couldn’t see any source. No bulbs, chandeliers, nor fixtures anywhere.

  He didn’t have much of a chance to dwell on the nature of his surroundings, as Jennifer continued her fast pace to the open elevator, where they ascended to the eighty-third floor.

  The elevator shot upward with a pace that jarred Ray. When am I gonna got used to that?

  Luckily, this time at least, no song-like voice interrupted his thoughts, to his delight—or dismay?

  Seconds later, they arrived. The elevator door opened and Jennifer took Ray’s hand, directing him through the long, curved hallway to a door that had the numbers 8334 on it.

  Ray took a quick glance around, seeing the same thick carpeting that lined the lobby and lighting above.

  As soon as they approached it, Jennifer placed her eye in front of a security beam emanating from the door and it slid open smoothly. They stepped into a nicely decorated, if somewhat small, apartment. Ray looked around and saw a bedroom with a king-size mattress in it, a small but inviting living room with bland, neutral-colored wood-like sofas and chairs, and a large viewscreen in front of the picture window. The bathroom was much larger than the one in his hotel room. The ever-present food replicator seemed no different from the others he’d seen.

  The carpeting had the same relaxing motif as that lining the floors of the lobby, and there were some traditional-looking paintings of people, places, and flowers lining the walls.

  The most striking aspect of the apartment was the fact that it didn’t seem to be imbued with any of Jennifer’s personality, at least that he could see. It was a nice apartment, but no fancier than a hotel, and with no sense of individuality. There were no signs of family portraits, custom embroidery, books, or any other signs at all that any individual truly called this place home.

  He got a sense that Jennifer was reluctant to put down roots anywhere.

  “Sit right down and I’ll pour you a drink,” said Jennifer.

  “Sure,” Ray agreed, vowing not to press this lovely creature for any unpleasant, uncomfortable personal details right now.

  “I’ll be right back.”

  Jennifer walked into the kitchen, and Ray plopped down on the sofa. He took time to notice that the multicolored fabric seemed to reflect all the colors of the rainbow, with patterns almost hypnotic in their intricacy.

  As he sat down, he noticed the sofa seemed to mimic the shape of his body perfectly, as if custom-designed for him.

  Jennifer opened a large sliding glass cabinet door and selected what appeared to be a regular wine bottle. She popped the cork and filled two large glasses. She strolled back to Ray in a smooth, studied motion, and he took the glass and drank from it perhaps a bit too quickly for his own good.

  “I’ll be back soon. I’m going to change into my nightgown,” said Jennifer, flashing a seductive smile.

  Ray seemed startled for a moment at the ease with which Jennifer made that announcement. He wondered just how many men had been invited to this apartment.

  Jennifer had already walked into her bedroom. Ray briefly heard the sound of the sliding door on a closet and the faint rustle of garments being moved. Jennifer carried something into the bathroom, and the door closed.

  Ray had to admit he had second thoughts. She was absolutely beautiful, no doubt about that, intelligent, and fun to be with. Yet uppermost in his mind was the image of his alien fantasy woman, a woman who consumed his thoughts more and more in increasing vividness, as the Rockoid fleet continued its journey. With Zanther’s voice already beginning to intercept his thoughts, he wondered if she was truly aboard that craft, if he’d finally meet her very soon now.

  At the same time, he longed for female companionship; if Zanther was real, would she consider an intimate relationship with the likes of him, a barbaric Earthman? Was it even biologically possible?

  He received no answer, confirming his beliefs. No doubt she didn’t understand or care what he thought.

  So Ray readied himself for what he hoped would be a pleasurable evening.

  Ten minutes later, Jennifer emerged from the bathroom. She wore a silk, nearly see-through shirt with frilly edges, with very little left to the imagination. She crossed her arms and glared at Ray with mock anger. “I expected you would be ready by now.”

  Ray grinned. “It’s been a while since I last did this sort of thing.”

  Jennifer rolled her eyes. “Ray, don’t tell me you’ve forgotten how to do this! Please don’t make me have to teach you!”

  Ray laughed. “No way, Jenny. I think I can remember the process…with a little help, of course…”

  Jennifer gave him a knowing smile and grabbed his left hand tightly. “Okay, Ray, if you say so.”

  She guided him to the bedroom, slowly, with a warm, sensuous grin on her beautiful face. The door slid shut behind them. Jennifer began taking her shirt off as soon as they entered the room. Ray practically tore his shirt from his body. He slid off his pants and they got into bed, embracing, holding, touching each other tenderly, yet eagerly. It had been a while for Jennifer too.

  Lips met, hands met, caressing, exploring, delighting one another. Ray was ready to savor each and every moment…soon the pleasure centers of his brain were working overtime.

  * * *

  Jennifer looked content. Ray stared at the ceiling as if something else was on his mind.

  Jennifer observed Ray’s faraway look with a little suspicion. “Ray, you look like you’re a million light-years away.”

  Ray gave her a faint smile. “Considering the circumstances, I guess you could say that.”

  “What are you talking about, Ray?”

  “I don’t know...it’s just those dreams...that woman...”

  Jennifer interrupted. “What woman?”

  Uh oh, I should have just shut my damn mouth!

  “Jenny, maybe it’s better if we just drop the subject...”

  “If you’re thinking about another woman, it’d be nice to.” Jennifer now glared at Ray.

  He couldn’t…didn’t want to lead her on.

  “It doesn’t make any sense. It’s that Rockoid woman that I see in my dreams every night...I can’t stop thinking about her...I think I’m obsessed with her...”

  “Are you kidding me, Ray? You’re obsessed with a Rockoid woman? A woman you’ve never even met? A woman that could very well be our enemy?”

  “I just don’t understand any of it, I really don’t,” Ray replied as he tensed up. “Her image won’t leave my mind. Nothing like this has ever happened to me before...Am I going crazy?”

  Jennifer barely let him finish before she angrily jumped out of bed, grabbed her shirt, put it back on, and sto
od staring at Ray with her hands on her hips for several tense seconds. She finally shouted, “Ray Perkins, I can’t believe you! Don’t you like me?”

  Tears streamed from her eyes. “What else do you want from me?”

  “Jenny, it’s not that! You have to understand. I’m sorry….”

  When he took her hand in an attempt to comfort her, she spun around and slapped Ray’s face. He caressed the wound as Jennifer stomped out of the room, still sobbing uncontrollably.

  Ray sighed, not believing what he had just done. He shouldn’t have let his lust control his actions. He wasn’t ready for any emotional entanglements right now, and it was a sure thing Jennifer wasn’t either.

  That damn Rockoid woman was ruining his life! He probably lost any chance he might have had at pursuing a meaningful relationship with anyone.

  Ray’s emotions were a whirlpool of contradictions. Part of him desired a continued relationship with Jennifer; part of him remained obsessed with the image of Zanther.

  Ray attempted to apologize over and over again, but Jennifer wouldn’t accept any of it. She sobbed uncontrollably and ran back into the bedroom, slamming the door behind her and leaving Ray to spend the rest of the night on the sofa.

  Ray stayed awake until morning. He sat up and thought…and thought…and thought…for a long time.

  Several times, he swore he heard a soft voice calling out to him from the bedroom, “I’m sorry…”

  Maybe it’s just my imagination working overtime…

  Chapter 12

  Over at the Alliance command center in Brussels, the progress of the alien fleet’s arrival was being monitored on a minute-by-minute basis.

  Scanning devices examined the Rockoid craft for evidence of hostile intent, but couldn’t find any indication there were weapons aboard or defensive shields had been activated. There was a growing hustle and bustle of concerned conversation and movement among the Alliance commanders. As yet nobody had any inkling of what was to come.

  Meanwhile, millions of residents of the Earth colonies of Mars and Europa continued their daily rituals. They worked, played, ate and slept. They did not sense the potential danger to their society from external sources. The economic downturn was enough of a concern to obscure other considerations.

  Each month, the human resources division of RECOM issued new, impersonal layoff or early retirement lists. The employee simply punched up a directory on the viewscreen and checked to see if their name was there.

  If it wasn’t, he or she reported to work.

  * * *

  The next morning, Ray got dressed quickly and decided to take another stab at an apology. He found Jennifer drinking a cup of coffee in the kitchen. She was already dressed for work and got up as soon as he entered the kitchen.

  Ray tried again to make her understand, “Jennifer, I’m really sorry about what happened last night. We shouldn’t have made love. We…I wasn’t…ready.”

  The little apologetic speech he’d practiced caught in his tongue, and he was left stammering.

  Jennifer gave him a friendly smile. “Ray, I should apologize too. I totally overreacted.”

  “Jennifer, I feel like a total heel! I mean, it was all my fault. The problem is…I just can’t shake the image of that Rockoid woman. She’s been haunting me for so long, and I just…”

  He sighed. “Do you understand what I’m trying to say, Jenny?”

  She replied quickly, if not too believably, “Yes, Ray, I understand perfectly. You don’t have anything to be concerned about. We had a good time. We just have a few things to work through, that’s all.” She gave him a warm smile, but Ray could swear he saw a tear forming in the corner of her right eye.

  He went over to Jennifer and embraced her, holding her gently. She snuggled close to him; when they finally pulled themselves apart a few minutes later, he kissed her gently on her cheek.

  She smiled at him, and they walked out of her apartment together, holding hands, heading back to the Alliance training center.

  * * *

  By Rockoid reckoning, some ninety timeframes passed before final decisions had to be made.

  During that period, Ray Perkins obediently submitted to an accelerated military training program. Teaching machine lessons were intermixed with live exercises at a military barracks. He welcomed the personal contact. At the same time, Jennifer was frequently called into conference with Captain Gotlieb to assess the Rockoid situation and report on Ray’s uncanny knowledge of that battle on a far-off world.

  * * *

  Within a meeting chamber in the mother ship, an important session was about to convene. It was time for Empress Zanther and her ministers to reach a final, fateful decision concerning the battle plan

  The initial plan was simple and direct: a full-blown frontal assault, a favorite method of conquering one’s enemies.

  They would attack the Alliance capital worlds, Earth, Taucon and Terea, at the same time. If all went as planned, their war of vengeance against the Alliance’s terrorist attack would begin in thirty-five timeframes.

  Zanther was already seated at a metallic, gray circular table, when the remainder of the council arrived. The defense minister, Xorax, strolled haughtily through a door at the end of the chamber.

  Xorax presented an imposing figure, over six feet tall and somewhat portly for his race. Typical for a Rockoid male, his head was shaved bald on the top, with a crest of jet-black hair stretching across the back. His face was stern, with dark, glaring eyes, and a suspicious manner. His eyes darted rapidly around the room as he entered, always on the alert, planning for surprises.

  The supreme commander of the Rockoid military followed him.

  The Empress looked carefully at those present, waiting for the proper moment to begin. A sense of timing was an important attribute for a leader.

  Zanther gave a regal smile that signified she was about to discuss the tactical situation.

  “Supreme Commander Queksnar, please tell us your plan of battle. Remember, your decision will decide the fates of billions of our enemies,” said the Empress matter-of-factly, even though committing troops to battle was still quite new for Zanther.

  Queksnar, a thin, distinguished-looking officer with a long history of decorated service, stood and bowed. His stern visage bore a thick mustache, and the fringe of hair around the back of his head was considerably thinner than that of most males his age.

  “I know, your majesty. It is my plan to place battle craft in close proximity to Earth, Taucon and Terea. We will give no clues as to our intent; we will continue to maintain radio silence and defensive shields will remain inactive.

  “We will initiate the battle simultaneously upon all three Alliance capital worlds and their surrounding colonies.”

  The alien commander didn’t seem to breathe between his words.

  “We cannot give the Alliance any time to rally its forces or evacuate its cities. We must quickly destroy most of their fleet. It will be a mismatched battle and one of reasonably short duration. Once their military has been vanquished, we will land our ground forces upon their worlds and take their resources as our own.”

  Commander Queksnar remained smug in his assessment of his race’s military superiority. Aside from the invasion of their far-off colony at Dorton, he had not lost a battle in his lifetime.

  “The Alliance’s edict, not to attack unless fired upon, will work to our advantage,” a grim smile spread from his narrow lips.

  Queksnar pointed to the large viewscreen above the table and delineated the various components of the Rockoid invasion fleet with a small pointing device that shot a bright yellow beam on the screen. Although his fellow commanders already knew the details, it was incumbent upon them to accept this sort of description as a formality whenever a final decision was made about a pending military engagement.

  As each type of Rockoid ship appeared on the screen, Queksnar briefly summarized its configuration and armament.

  Queksnar went on with a brie
f presentation using a battle simulator, which displayed several possible combat scenarios on the viewscreen. The tactics were the same as those the Rockoids used in most of their prior military campaigns; again this was done strictly as a formality, complying with law and tradition.

  At the end of his presentation, Queksnar put his pointing device down and waited. Xorax breathed a large sigh of relief.

  Thank Reka-danai that sobrac [a Rockoid epithet roughly equivalent to the term “dirty son of a bitch”] is finished. I was about to nod off, he thought, keeping his feelings blocked.

  During Queksnar’s report, Zanther tried not to look nervous. She couldn’t keep from tapping her long, delicate fingers on the table from time to time, as she became more agitated over the implications of the upcoming attack on the empire’s enemies.

  Her inner conflicts wouldn’t go away. On the one hand, she had visited some of the regime’s young soldiers during their training to spur them on to greater heights of achievement. On the other hand, some of these very same soldiers came to her to tend their wounds or cure their illnesses. Now her proclamation of war against the Alliance would condemn many of them to their deaths.

  She could not let self-doubt overcome her or display signs of weakness. She removed her hands from the table and placed them in her lap.

  “Commander Ivarna, do you approve of this plan?”

  A middle-aged, tall, almost burly Rockoid male arose and stared above the table with his dark eyes. His smooth countenance was devoid of expression. Unlike most members of his race, his eyes were deep blue, perhaps an indication that one of his distant ancestors had mated with one of the empire’s sister races.

  His words were slow and measured, careful not to say things that exceeded his level of authority. Ivarna knew he had some strong allies in that room, who were watching his performance under pressure very carefully.

  “Yes, I do approve of the plan, with this concern: What shall we do with prisoners of war?”

  “Minister Xorax, what are your feelings on this subject?” asked Zanther.

  “We all know we have very little cargo space in which to hold prisoners; most captives will have to be executed immediately. The rest we will torture so we can learn more about their defensive tactics. As you are all well aware, it is the tradition of our people to execute prisoners if they are of no use to us,” Xorax reminded the group.