Attack of the Rockoids

by Gene Steinberg

  Ray tried to will himself to believe that these incredible visions were just psychological constructs, products of his all-too-vivid imagination, as Dr. Johnson suggested.

  Yet almost every important detail of Ray’s dreams turned out to be true. Was Thompson a hero or a traitor? Even if she betrayed the Alliance, she was also a highly decorated military officer; he wouldn’t dare make accusations against such a person without strong evidence. Dreams would never be considered evidence. If Ray didn’t hold his tongue, at least for now, he’d face a certain court martial and an equally certain prison term.

  He had to bide his time, watch, listen and hope for a chance to prove his case before this terrible tragedy went too far, assuming it wasn’t already too late.

  It was wartime and the fate of millions of beings on both sides hung in the balance. Ray didn’t know why it was his lot in life to play a pivotal role in deciding issues of war and peace. The responsibility weighed heavily upon him. He wondered if he should have gone on that silly mission to Area 51. If he still lived in the past, he would be sitting at home in front of his computer, writing a new computer game or riding through the countryside in his old Mustang, not worrying one bit about matters of interstellar war. He wondered what Gonzales would have thought when he disappeared. Would he have left Ray for dead? Would Ray simply have remained unconscious on the floor of the laboratory in Area 51 until he either died of old age or was discovered and thrown in prison?

  Jennifer stared at him. She could see the deep frown and creases in his forehead, signs of internal struggle, and she hoped he’d soon tell her what drew his attention away from the serious matters of war and peace.

  Commander Thompson interrupted his thoughts, acting as if she suspected nothing. “Captain Perkins, we must get to the primary command center immediately. Time is of the essence, and our forces are rapidly being worn down by the Rockoid assault.”

  “Yes, Liz,” Johnson broke in, “y’all need to find out what’s going on with this situation since we last checked.

  “Oh, I’m sorry, Ray, I suppose I should explain. Commander Thompson is a close friend of my family. Her late father, Rex Thompson, was one of my closest friends; when he died, Liz became a part of my family too. My wife Becky and I…we never had any children of our own. Becky asked Liz to live with us when she went into the Alliance Academy. She’s really like a daughter to us.”

  Oh my god! For a moment, Ray experienced an intense wave of vertigo, but Thompson’s voice interrupted him before his internal struggle led him to say something foolish.

  “Excuse me, Captain, I believe it’s time for us to go.” Thompson broke in with a hint of sarcasm. “We really do not have any more time to waste.”

  With Thompson leading, Ray behind her with Jennifer at his side, and Gotlieb and Johnson taking up the rear, staying quite a distance from each other, they began walking briskly to the command center, where they would watch the progress of the conflict.

  According to the latest intelligence reports, the six targeted colonies were still under heavy assault, and the Alliance defense forces in the area were having trouble keeping up with the enemy.

  At the same time, he could hear Johnson barking orders into his wristview, though the specifics were a blur to him. Johnson consulted with the command team, en masse it seemed, and received a blow-by-blow account of the proceedings. At times, Johnson would also brief Thompson. They nodded agreeably and he gave further orders.

  As they continued on their way to the main command center, Ray became lost in thought as he began to consider his prior dreams more carefully. He struggled to determine why they sometimes presented such odd perspectives; he came to a chilling conclusion, one he hadn’t taken seriously before.

  Some of his dreams had revealed the space battle as a Rockoid might have perceived it! When he saw Rockoid ships being fired upon, he witnessed the attack from what looked like a view-screen aboard a Rockoid ship—or from the perspective of one of those humanoid creatures.

  Surely, he wasn’t a Rockoid in disguise, was he? The whole idea just didn’t make sense, and didn’t explain his ability to see what happened aboard an Alliance ship, involving Thompson, either. He didn’t want to think about the implications of this mysterious ability to see events that occurred in places where he wasn’t physically present. What did they call it on those late night radio shows back in the twenty-first century?

  Oh yes, remote viewing.

  At this point, Thompson, who stood right in front of him, turned around and demanded, “Is something the matter, Captain Perkins?”

  Ray guessed that Thompson had a far more intuitive grasp of the situation than he would have expected, considering her somewhat cold demeanor.

  “No, no. I’m probably just a bit tired from the long hours every day at the Academy,” Ray replied quickly.

  “Oh, that’s quite all right; I perfectly understand the tension you must be under,” sighed Thompson. She nodded her head agreeably, but it was clear to Ray she wasn’t satisfied with his answer.

  Ray also wondered if anyone had told this woman about his suspicions concerning her role in the Dorton affair. If she were indeed guilty of the barbaric acts for which the Rockoids no doubt blamed her, he’d soon find himself in deep trouble and possibly be in danger of losing his life. Maybe she’d dispatch him on some suicide mission to get him out of the way.

  He returned to thoughts about his dreams. He knew the safety of the Alliance might depend on knowing the truth about what happened during their first encounter with the Rockoids, and why Thompson was considered the hero rather than the villain in that encounter. Only a fool would believe the Rockoids wouldn’t retaliate some day. An answer nagged at core of his subconscious, but Ray didn’t pick up on it.

  * * *

  In minutes, the party arrived at the main command center. The bright, off-white chamber stood thirty meters high and extended the length of a football field. The walls conveyed the clinical feel of an operating room rather than a top-secret military facility. Status viewscreens lined the far walls, and the hustle and bustle of activity proceeded at an almost dizzying pace.

  Ray stared in amazement at the viewscreens, watching Rockoid ships attacking Alliance colonies from different vantage points.

  Every so often, a technician handed Commander Thompson or Dr. Johnson a paper-thin portable viewscreen shaped like a large notepad that contained status reports; it reminded Ray of an iPad back in his own century, only this amazing contraption could be transformed clay-like into smaller sizes as needed. Johnson and Thompson nodded their heads or barked a few orders before returning the devices to their bearers.

  The gloomy atmosphere hung thick like a blanket, permeating everyone’s consciousness. Those present seemed to do their jobs quietly and efficiently, but their melancholic looks were hard to conceal. When Ray examined the surroundings a little more carefully, he saw some of those present wiping their eyes with a tissue or handkerchief.

  Gotlieb struggled to maintain a confident attitude and began describing the purpose of the command room. “We can monitor the status of the Rockoid attacks on all Alliance worlds here, and stay in direct contact with all the fleet commanders. Updates to defense strategy can be communicated almost instantaneously.”

  Ray took a closer look at Gotlieb and saw worry in his eyes, a grim, determined expression on his face. He followed Gotlieb over to one screen where a black-haired woman, who appeared to be of Latin descent, was hard at work.

  “Lieutenant Francesca, please show Captain Perkins the image we received from the Mars colony,” instructed Gotlieb.

  “Yes, sir,” said Francesca.

  The woman was young for an officer, perhaps in her early twenties, short, very slim, with long, curly black hair, big hazel eyes. She seemed to be wiping a tear absentmindedly with a finger. “Bring up image two hundred fifty-eight.”

  Ray couldn’t help but notice the barest suggestion of a crack in her voice, a trace of huskiness.


  The picture appeared on the screen. Ray gasped at the shocking image, one of absolute devastation, worse than anything he’d ever seen before, except for those awful pictures from World War III.

  There were battered buildings and rubble everywhere. A few fires appeared to be burning in some sections of New San Francisco as Francesca panned around the city. Crushed hovercars lay on the ground upside down; sidewalks and streets were nothing but debris. To his horror, dead bodies, and body parts, were clearly visible.

  Ray had seen the horrible aftermath of war before, but he never got used to such scenes. Part of him was inured to the grim reaper’s presence on the battlefield, part of him was repelled; he found his emotions hard to suppress.

  “How…how did this happen? When?”

  “It came without warning…we didn’t have time to mount a defense…” Gotlieb stammered, “the Rockoids just let loose on us. In…the attacks on the cities of the colonies, key production centers were taken out. Now most of them are running on emergency power reserves. Casualties were surprisingly pretty light.”

  “What about the atmosphere? All those cities are in self-contained domes.”

  “A backup system repairs any holes in the dome around New San Francisco and restores the proper atmospheric pressure in a little while. That’s probably the least of our problems.”

  He listened intently as Francesca tried to explain the situation. “Sir, we lost contact with New San Francisco just before you got here. Our satellite network couldn’t scan the city, as if the signals were being jammed.”

  She sat down at her console, picked up a tissue absentmindedly from her purse, and stared out into space.

  Gotlieb took a long, deep breath, and tried to update Ray on the rest of the frightening picture.

  He thought about his responsibilities to his family, his friends, and to the Alliance, who now depended on him for accurate information, presented dispassionately. He took another deep breath and then spoke. His voice began weakly, but soon gained strength.

  “We sent some scout ships, but we lost contact with them. About an hour later, we managed to reestablish communication with one of the vessels. The others were destroyed. The surviving ship sent the image you just saw. If this is what these Rockoids plan to do to the other Alliance worlds then we’re in…well, we’re in for one hell of a time,” explained Gotlieb, trying to keep his voice steady.

  Ray stood wide-eyed and remained silent for several minutes. He shook his head, tried to compose his thoughts, and found he had the voice, though he was barely conscious of the words.

  “What are we going to do now? Are we finished?”

  “I don’t know, Ray. Unless we can come up with a powerful defense, fast, our prospects of turning back this invasion are pretty damn depressing,” replied Gotlieb.

  They walked over to Johnson, who still fumbled with the portable viewscreen image. He put on reading glasses and looked over the status report again.

  A few minutes later, Johnson absentmindedly dropped the viewer on a nearby desk and put his glasses back in his pocket. He stood there fuming.

  “What is it, commander?” Ray asked.

  “I can’t believe this. Alliance Intelligence says that enemy fleets have just arrived in at least three other star systems. Our forces are going to be spread extremely thin. A large portion of our fleet is at the other side of the galaxy, on various exploration missions. The Rockoids must have known that…”

  Johnson was still the battle-hardened veteran. As much as he ached inside, he was able to rise to the occasion and perform the duties assigned to him without outward signs of the emotions raging within him.

  “It’ll take days or even weeks to recall all our cruisers. If the Rockoids continue their attack, we may be out of luck,” said Johnson with only a trace of emotion in his voice. “The Rockoids knew how, when and where to stage their assault for maximum effect. They must have known the Alliance wouldn’t fight unless attacked first.”

  “But we could have started calling back those ships when we first knew the Rockoids were coming, couldn’t we?” Ray chimed in.

  “Ray, if we had done that, there would have been chaos once the news broke. Billions would panic if they thought they

  were about to be attacked. It would be a political and logistical nightmare.”

  Gotlieb attempted to sound calm. “Sir, we should contact the leaders of all the threatened Alliance planets and colonies, send warnings to all the emergency centers there.”

  “Thank you so much for stating the obvious, Captain. Of course, we got to notify the authorities in those star systems now, and tell them to evacuate their major cities! Billions of lives are at stake!” Johnson’s deep voice sounded almost like a bark now.

  Thompson intervened.

  “For heaven’s sake, end this ridiculous conversation! We must be acting, not talking!” Her stern voice was clearly accustomed to command, dispassionate.

  Without warning, Thompson raised her voice to an almost piercing level. “I warned you all these Rockoids were up to no good. You should have listened…you should have destroyed them when we had the chance!”

  Johnson put his arm around her shoulder and said in a fatherly voice, “Liz, please, settle down. I don’t want y’all to get too hyper right now. We need your command skills now more than ever.”

  She remained silent for a moment and stared at everyone.

  At that moment, the images of the Rockoid ships hovering over the Alliance colony worlds were replaced by a symbol, consisting of a large circle in the center of which was a bird-like creature with its wings outstretched.

  A booming voice came on the loudspeakers, interrupting the transmissions. “The Rockoid Empire demands your surrender forthwith. A response is required within three days. Failure to surrender will result in the destruction of the major cities on the Alliance planets Earth, Taucon, and Terea.”

  That same message was repeated at least twenty times, using the Alliance universal translation system to convert it to all known languages.

  Once the warnings stopped, the symbol on the screen became distorted, and there was a loud rumbling sound, emanating from an unknown source. The screen went blank, and there was silence.

  Chapter 14

  Technicians worked vigorously to restore the viewscreens in the various Alliance command centers. It appeared the Rockoids somehow jammed the signals at their source, and the backup systems were unable to prevent the incursion. No Rockoid-based jamming signals could be detected, no radio waves at all on any known frequencies.

  Ray, Johnson, Jennifer, and Gotlieb were struggling to devise a plan of action, though Thompson appeared to be thinking about something else.

  Finally, the silence was broken. “This is insane!” Thompson shouted. “We should have returned all our forces to Alliance space as soon we knew the Rockoids were coming! We might have been able to save the colony worlds!”

  “There was nothing we could have done, Liz,” interrupted Johnson. “We couldn’t have known. We restored all the reservists to active duty; we couldn’t do much of anything else without setting off ten kinds of hell among the Alliance worlds.”

  “Look how they attacked us during our peaceful exploratory mission near the Dorton colony! Wasn’t all that enough for you?”

  Peaceful, yeah sure. Only a moron would believe that! Despite his misgivings, Ray held his tongue.

  “We could have at least gotten our forces to the threatened colony worlds as a precaution. It’s obvious any population or strategic center would be most vulnerable,” Thompson barked.

  “Our forces have been spread terribly thin,” Liz. “Now there’s not much we can do without further dividing our forces. In fact, the attacks on the capital worlds have just begun; at this moment we have just engaged Rockoid forces over Terea,” explained Johnson.

  Thompson’s eyes widened. She frowned, her face transforming into a worried expression.

  “What’s wrong, sir?” Ray asked.

>   “Henry, did you just say my home world was being attacked?” asked Thompson.

  “Yes, we received word of a battle taking place over Terea a few minutes ago. We did dispatch a fleet to defend…”

  Without warning, Thompson became agitated, almost hysterical. The onlookers were at once surprised and shocked.

  “For God’s sake, save Terea! My sister lives there, my friends—what will happen to them?” screamed Thompson wildly. She broke down and started to cry.

  Gotlieb walked over to Thompson and put his arm on her shoulder in an attempt to mollify her. Suddenly she spun around and Gotlieb found himself flipped end over end, lying on the ground. Thompson was a master at hand-to-hand combat, more powerful than most men.

  Gotlieb merely sat there, blood streaking from his cheek, which struck a nearby desk as he fell.

  She reluctantly reached out her hand and helped Gotlieb get up, rather forcefully.

  “If you dare lay a hand on me again, Captain Gotlieb, I will demote you to the rank of private,” said Thompson sternly with a hint of arrogance in her voice.

  “I’m sorry, Commander Thompson.” Gotlieb stammered. “Why did you attack me?”

  She ignored his question. “I will forget about your misjudgment this time, but do not dare ever touch me again.”

  “Yeah, I get it, Commander, but I wanted to reassure you…” Gotlieb started to say.

  “Shut up, Gotlieb! You may think you can charm me, but I am not the least bit interested in what you have to say!” exclaimed Thompson angrily. Johnson walked over to Thompson and talked quietly with her. She seemed about to argue with him too, but thought better of it. Johnson’s voice remained a whisper, but Ray couldn’t miss its meaning.

  A few words caught his ear: “Liz, I’m gonna have to relieve ya of your command if you continue these fits. I can’t continue to stick up for you like this! Please!”

  A tense silence persisted for a few seconds until the technician, Francesca, stood up and exclaimed, “Dr. Johnson, Dr. Johnson!”

  Johnson turned around and asked, “Yes, Ms. Francesca?”