by David Roman
Vincent ignored him and pushed the button.
“Idiot!” Alex cried out. “Do you ever listen to me? What if this thing explodes?”
“Nothing’s happening, relax. Maybe somewhere else there’s a—”
A screeching noise forced the agents to jump back as the door disappeared, revealing an opening into the ship that was shrouded in darkness.
“Officers, are you all right down there?” one of the soldiers asked.
“Yes!” Alex shouted. “Secure the area!” And then he turned back to his partner and asked, “Well, Mr. Saturn, what are your plans now?”
“To go inside?” Vincent asked, which—as Alex knew—was a rhetorical question.
Alex’s lips formed a thin line; his nostrils flared. “Damn it, Vincent! You’re such a knucklehead! What if it’s a trap? You watch movies, right? Guys go up into the alien ship, and then something eats them!”
“Oh, so now it’s an alien ship?” Vincent sneered as he turned on the flashlight.
“I’m serious, Vincent! You take one more step, and I’ll—”
Vincent turned briskly. “You’ll what? You’re going to shoot me? Just cover my back, Alex. I’m going in.”
“Vince, I’ve a bad feeling about this…”
“Relax. Whatever’s inside is definitely hurt and in need of help. We need to blow this thing in the open. You do know that if—and when—they get here no one will ever hear about this?”
“For the better! This isn’t an adventure, Vincent! You’ve dedicated your life to serve your country, and as such you must abide by the rules of your superiors!”
“But we’ll be famous!”
“And dead!” Alex screamed out. “Have you gone crazy? What are you talking about?”
“Look, I’m not asking you to go. Wait here if you want.”
Before Alex could respond, Vincent leapt into the opening.
“Vince!” Alex lunged after him, but it was too late. He cursed, cocked his pistol, and neared the entrance.
It was extremely cold inside the ship. As Vincent set his foot on the slanted floor, a waft of frozen air encircled his entire body, forcing him to shudder. Entering this ship after the hours in the desert was similar to stepping into a deep freezer after a sauna. Holding one hand on the door frame, he began to move the flashlight around the interior. There were countless panels with faint blinking lights and buttons, some covered in the strange alien characters; numerous monitors were attached to the ceiling, one of them displaying white noise; cabinets attached to the walls; and further down in the shadows was a bolted table and swiveling chairs.
“That’s so creepy,” Alex whispered, peeking from the outside.
Vincent began lowering.
“Don’t,” Alex cautioned. “I can barely see you now, so don’t go any deeper.”
“Shut up,” Vincent fussed.
“Vincent, don’t—”
“Look!” Vincent flashed down into the cockpit beyond the table and the beam illuminated a body on the floor before the ships’ control panel.
“No!” Alex said nervously, taking a step back. “Don’t go near it! That’s a direct order!”
But Vincent disregarded him. This was something that he had always been searching for—his prize.
In spite of Alex’s warnings, he descended further.
The ship’s pilot had his back turned to Vincent. From what he could see, it was not an extraterrestrial, but instead a man dressed in a black outfit with strange metal boots and a thick vest. As he crouched down by the body, he saw something liquid on the floor—the man was lying in a pool of blood! Vincent gasped. “Get a medic here!” he shouted up. “We need to get this guy out!”
“Get out of there, you fool!” Alex shrieked in horror, looking past Vincent at the body.
“He’s wounded!” Vincent added before he turned back and froze. The man was staring right back at him! But there was something strange about this man: slightly pointy ears and eyes with shimmering crystals in the middle of his pupils. His rugged face was full of remorseful pain that he held within, seemingly fighting until the last minute to stay alive. Grizzled long hair extended down to his shoulders, forming a large widow’s peak on his high forehead, revealing that this alien man was in his elder years.
Before Vincent could open his mouth, he felt a grip on his wrist.
“Texanorra…” the creature garbled.
Vincent heard Alex shouting his name, ringing hollow… somewhere far… eons away… and then he saw a flash of lights—thousands upon thousands of little bright lights that bathed him, engulfed him, blinded him…
Then he saw visions—multiple visions that passed before his eyes like frames of a broken film reel. He saw millions of people crying in agony… he felt a sudden poignant pain—the kind he’d never felt before… a mechanical pyramid floating in the starry sky... a young man kneeling on a large flight of stairs with a dead woman in his hands...
Complete darkness swept over him.
*
Alex fell back, and the door of the shuttle closed; it was as if some unseen force shoved him out.
“No!” he screamed at the top of his lungs. “Vincent!” He jumped up and began slamming the door with the butt of his gun and his fist.
The soldiers rushed down into the crater, but a loud noise from the vessel forced them to reconsider. They stopped, weapons drawn, a bewildered look on their faces as the ship exerted out of the ground and began floating above them, tilting its bow towards the sky.
“Shoot it!” one of the soldiers shouted, opening fire.
“No!” Alex cried out amidst the discharge.
The giant engines opened, and blue and orange flames burst out, sending the ship straight up into the sky in fractions of a second.
The soldiers continued shooting.
“Cease fire!” Alex yelled out again, trying to grasp what happened. “My God…” he whispered. “Vincent.” His heart meagerly beating, eyes filling with tears, he ran up the crater wall and fell but continued nevertheless, clambering up. He hurried to one of the troops inside a military van. “Soldier, what do you see on the radar? Where’s that ship?”
“Sir,” the man replied, “it disappeared from our radar, and…” He paused, wiping the sweat off his forehead.
“And what?”
“It’s gone out of the atmosphere, sir,” the soldier finished with a shrug.
“What do you mean, gone?” Alex grabbed the lad by the collar. “Where is it, then?”
“That ship moved too fast for us to calculate its speed, sir. At that velocity, it might very well be on the other side of the solar system by now.” The soldier cleared his throat. “I’m sorry, sir.”
Alex felt weak in the back of his knees. He dropped his pistol and stumbled back, trying to maintain balance. “How will I explain this,” he mumbled, sitting down on the ground. He stared up into the evening sky, tears rolling down his cheeks. “Damn it, Vincent! You never listen to me!” He smashed the dry soil. He then took out his cell and dialed his friend’s number in a desperate attempt, but to his own dismay reached the voicemail recording he’d heard countless times, “Hi, this is Special Agent Vincent Saturn…”
*
Vincent awoke with the biggest headache he had ever had. His entire body ached as well, his left leg was cramped up, and drool covered the bottom portion of his face. It felt as if he had been asleep for days. Without pondering where he was, he rolled on his back and realized he was lying on a cold metal floor instead of his comfy bed. Opening his eyes to total darkness, he began peering at the shadows, trying to distinguish his whereabouts. He could gradually make out the shape of a chair and a control panel of a large vehicle. He stared at it for a few seconds and then promptly sat up, retracing his steps.
He realized where he was.
In complete panic, he began brushing his hands around the floor for the flashlight.
“Alex!” he cried out. He got up and took a staggering step into the darkness, noticing—
much to his surprise—that the floor of the ship was level. He supported himself on the wall and looked behind. The windshield was covered in a thick layer of dirt from the impact, yet some light escaped through the cracks. Apparently, the vessel was out of the ground. But how is it out? was the more important question.
“What the…?” he said. He then turned towards the stern and saw a source of light emitting from the ship’s doorway. “Alex!” he repeated, limping towards the light alongside the wall. But just as he took several steps, he saw a moving shadow and felt a powerful blow to the back of his head that sent him reeling to the floor.
“Larikhan ka hanno!” his attacker screamed out in a bizarre tongue.
Vincent rolled over and recoiled. His aggressor was every bit human—a brown-skinned, bald man of average height—but yet not human at all somehow. Some of his facial features were different: his nose was ridged throughout the top part of its shaft; his eyes were blue—dark blue, almost black; and the most unusual thing about this alien was the dazzling green crystal embedded in the middle of his forehead. He was dressed like a human as well, donning a camouflaged shirt, cargo pants, a pair of combat boots, and a gun-belt around his waist with one of the revolvers that he carried; the other he held in his gloved hand, frantically pointing it at Vincent.
“Larikhan ka hanno!” the creature repeated as he aggressively shoved the barrel into Vincent’s cheekbone.
“I don’t understand,” Vincent replied, fighting to keep his cool. He gently pushed away the gun.
“Larikhan ka hanno!” The alien pointed his weapon at Vincent’s bloody glove.
“I said I don’t understand!”
The alien became quiet for a second, baffled. He took a step back, his weapon still pointed at Vincent’s face, and reached into one of his multiple pockets. He pulled out a small device and stretched it out.
Vincent dubiously looked at the alien and at the gadget.
“Serama niche,” the alien said, trying to hand him the device.
Vincent didn’t move, hoping that Alex or the soldiers would burst in and rescue him from the hostile creature.
“Serama niche ka pett!” The alien raised his voice. He then pulled out a similar mechanism out of his own ear and plugged it back in. He stretched out his hand again. “Kha!”
Vincent realized he’d no choice but to consent, so he took off his gloves and reached for the device, which was an electronic gadget in the shape of a pill.
“Serama niche!” the alien repeated.
“Fine, then!” Vincent said and plugged the device in his ear. It fit perfectly, as if it were specifically designed for him. “Well?” he then said, louder. “Nothing’s happening.” He slowly got up, ignoring the weapon.
“Do you understand me now?” the alien said in perfect English.
“Whoa!” Vincent jerked back and slammed his back against the wall. “What the… what was that?”
“What I gave you is called a ‘Neural Translator’—a device that deciphers every intelligent language into one you can understand.”
“A neuro… neural translator?”
“I’m no professor,” the alien said impatiently, “I don’t know how it works. But now that we got the communication problem out of the way…” He clenched his weapon. “Who and what are you? And just what are you doin’ on Oryon’s ship? Where are they?”
“Slow down.” Vincent raised his hands. “I don’t know what’s going on here, but—”
“Who are you?”
“My name’s Vincent Saturn. I’m a federal agent. This ship crashed on our soil, and I was just investigating. I didn’t mean to intrude—”
“Liar!” The alien once again pointed the gun in Vincent’s face. “Where’s Oryon Krynne?”
“Who?”
“Did I stutter? Oryon!”
“I swear to you, I have no idea who he is!” Vincent cried out. “There are billions of people on this planet! I don’t know who this Ryan is!”
The creature paused, his face contorted in confusion.
“There are many soldiers outside, and they’ll shoot you unless you lower that weapon and come with me,” Vincent continued. “Then I’ll help you find this… this… Ryan.”
“What…?” The alien stepped back and glanced over his shoulder at the exit. He then asked, “Just what system are you from?”
“System? I don’t understand your question. I’m human, if that’s what you mean.”
The alien frowned. “A human? Never heard of ’em! Where are the men that were supposed to be on this ship? What have you humans done with ’em?”
“You’re the only one I see,” Vincent said.
“Speak, or I’ll kill you!” The alien was infuriated, demanding information that was beyond Vincent’s grasp.
Vincent raised his hands again. “Put down your weapon! No one’s going to harm you! If the soldiers see an alien, they’ll certainly open fire!”
“Stop threatenin’ me with some damn soldiers!” the creature retorted. “You’re speakin’ in riddles!” He paused for a second and then said, “And just who in the hell are you callin’ an alien?”
“Well… you…” Vincent said in an undertone.
“You’re the alien! I’ve never seen anyone like you!”
“Look, if you put your gun down and step outside with me, I’m sure I can resolve all of this.”
“You’ve no idea just where you’re at, do ya?” the alien asked, easing, a smirk appearing on his face. “Just where do you think you are?”
A rush of uncertainty passed through Vincent. He gasped for air as doubts ran through his mind. He tried to remember his last steps before the blackout, and then he thought about how long was he out for…“We’re on Earth,” he muttered, unsure whom he was trying to convince.
“Earth system? Never heard of it either. Now, stop confusin’ me,” the alien sustained. “Oryon… where’s he? What happened to him? Where’s Duell? Talk!”
Vincent shrugged. “I have no idea what or who you’re talking about.”
“How did you end up on this ship, then?”
“I’m sorry,” Vincent said, clasping his head, “but I don’t remember… there was a spark of light… and then…well, then you woke me up.”
“Liar! I saw you ransackin’ the ship as I entered!”
“I wasn’t ransacking; I don’t even remember how I got here!”
“And the blood?” The alien pointed his pistol at the stain on Vincent’s pants, at the gloves on the floor, and at the puddle in the cockpit.
Vincent swallowed. “I… I don’t know…”
“You actually think I’m gonna believe that?”
“Why would I lie to you?”
“Why? Just look at ya! What are you? Why should I trust you?”
“So, what are you going to do?” Vincent finally gave up reasoning.
The alien sighed and chewed on his lower lip. “I’ll take you to the twins. They shall decide your fate.”
“What twins?”
The alien shoved the gun into Vincent’s abdomen. “Let’s go.”
“Look, you need to lower your weapon,” Vincent said calmly. “We mean you no harm.”
The alien seemed confused again. “You still believe we’re on this magical planet called ‘Earth?’ Just move.”
Vincent groaned, turned, and headed toward the opening. He thought about what the alien had told him, but it made no sense. Alex would’ve surely helped him out. But where is he? How come he didn’t come to my aid when I passed out in this ship? And come to think of it, how did I end up here in the first place? And how did the vessel straighten? He felt sharp pain in his head under that avalanche of questions.
“There,” the alien said, pushing Vincent to the door.
As he stepped outside, a view of supernatural beauty appeared in front of his eyes—one he’ll never forget. The sky was orange, filled with lavender and cobalt clouds that wrapped around a planet full of blue oceans and green continents.
A crimson moon rode the evening sky alongside the planet, casting its reddish light down on the huge city below. Thousands of buildings covered the visible horizon, their peaks penetrating the clouds with millions of flying cars and ships soaring above, between and through their enormous structures.
Vincent froze in awe, staring at the futuristic metropolis and at the planet in the sky. His heart began to beat frantically as a wave of dizziness surged through him. He turned to the creature. “Where… am… I?” he slurred out.
“Planet Sebalon 2,” the alien replied. “So, now who’s the alien, my friend?”
Vincent couldn’t reply. All this is a dream, he thought. It’s not real. His eyes rolled to the back of his head, and he passed out again.
CHAPTER II
The Sons of Liberty
“Wake up! Saturn, wake up!”
Vincent opened his eyes and recoiled again.
The alien squinted in puzzlement. “What’s wrong with you? You’ve actually never seen a Dirsalian before?”
“A what?”
“A Dir…” The alien paused, realizing the man beside him was truly an outsider. “Never mind.”
“Where am I?” Vincent asked, looking around in panic as he began recalling that he somehow ended up on an alien world. He was sitting in the passenger seat of what seemed to be a convertible car that hovered a few feet above the ground.
“You passed out,” the alien replied, clicking buttons on the complex panel. “I had to drag you here.”
The interior of the jet was similar to that of a regular automobile with a tad of extraterrestrial technology: the seats and the door panels were made of black leather and delicately engraved with silver markings, and a monitor on the dashboard projected a hologram in midair.
“This is a speeder, Clausian model,” the alien explained, hitting a switch that produced a windshield. Another hologram lit up in the top middle of the windshield, displaying the rearview image. “Old junk, but really fast. Now, hold on.” He stomped his foot and slightly tugged the wheel.
Within a second, the vehicle elevated to a height of fifty feet.