Invasion Earth

by David Tienter

  He took possession of the largest house in town. His Royal Guard took over the first floor. Alone in his state room, he took out the ultimate weapon. The gleaming mobile sword looked awesome in his hand. The destructive abilities of the unit would lead to victory. They would move against a small army outpost to the south of him. He would use the sword to destroy all humans. None of his troops needed to die.

  He did have a problem. He had never used the mobile sword and had no idea how to program it. Two of his former councilors had been in charge directing the sword’s actions. But now Steit and Slithest were dead.

  There were three small buttons on the bottom of the unit. He was sure they were programming buttons, but how to set them was a puzzle. Certainly he did not want to set it to kill all Kings in the neighborhood.

  He ordered his technicians in. “Set the mobile sword to kill humans only.”

  The techs searched through the manuals and loose papers brought from Tonk, but found no instruction for the device. Looking at each other, they made the obvious decision. To fail King Ceidas meant certain death. One of the technicians picked up the unit and punched all three buttons rapidly, then gave it to his fellow techs. “Three buttons for the third planet from the sun. It could work.”

  The mobile sword was carried to King Ceidas. “It’s set now, my King.”

  “Bring in three earthlings.”

  Three captives were brought in, and the King dropped the sword.

  Within a minute, his three soldiers and two technicians were green ground hamburger. Only the King and the earthmen remained untouched.

  He quickly killed the earthmen and put the sword back into its carrying case. He decided he would use it later if he needed it.

  With no other acceptable actions at hand, he set his troops to digging trenches and tunnels. Busy work diverted the attention of his men. He believed it was always best to keep the troops busy.

  Early the next morning, one of his technicians approached him.

  “May I approach Your Royal Highness?”

  “What is it?” He had forgotten the tech’s name.

  “I have been in the library studying the maps of the surrounding area.”

  “Yes, I have scanned them also.”

  “One of the maps I found was a power grid outlay. I believe this could be a weakness we use to advance our cause. This planet has severely overloaded its energy transporters. They have used lines carrying electricity above ground. It is vulnerable to attack. Although no mention was made of the armed forces protecting it, I believe it to be a primary weakness.”

  The King’s attention was now riveted on the technician.

  “By destroying several power generators, we may be able to disable some of their equipment. It seems obvious that the power transmitters are carrying more power than they were built for. Therefore, if we destroy part of the grid, the whole grid could burn out. If the land grows dark, their army will be forced to use small power sources and limit their ability to wage war. Your Royal Highness should consider the power transmitters to the west.” He pointed to a long string of towers stretching to the north. “For a miniscule force risked, a maximum of destruction could be obtained.

  “I suggest that you knock down several of those towers, then follow the lines to the plant that produces the power and destroy it.”

  “I will take your report under advisement. What is your name, technician?”

  “I am called Pucces.”

  “Keep silent about your report. Tell no one. You are dismissed.”

  Once the technician was gone, Ceidas called a sergeant from his Royal Guard. The troopers name was Somnzib. Ceidas had used him several times and found him to be capable and intrepid.

  Sergeant Somnzib came immediately. “Yes, Your Royal Highness, what are your orders?”

  “I have a special assignment for you. Listen carefully. Take ten of your most trusted men and knock down that tower over there.” He pointed to the power lines. “Reconnoiter it for me, I want to know the size of the force that protects it. Report back to me.”

  “Yes, Your Royal Majesty.”

  Within the hour, he was back before the King reporting. “There is no one guarding the tower, so we knocked it down.”

  “Go now and destroy the next tower. Follow the lines and continue destroying them until the power lines are broken. Do not approach the power lines. They are dangerous. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, Your Royal Majesty.”

  “If you encounter an armed force, return and report to me.”

  Somnzib left on the double and by nightfall had destroyed two of the towers, severing the powerlines. The area went dark. Unsure of what to do next, and not wishing to anger the King, he led his squad of men west, following the lines.

  The sergeant and his squad traveled farther than anticipated. They found the lines originated at a large, mostly unguarded building several miles from the coast. It had taken them ten days to reach it. Unbeknownst to them, it was a nuclear power plant. Sergeant Somnzib knew the King probably wanted the power stopped, and this was probably the place that produced the power. Therefore, it seemed clear to him that the King would want the building destroyed. Dispatching the guards and workers was simple, but destroying the plant was difficult. The walls and support beams were remarkably resistant to destruction. They ripped out the control boards to no avail. They went through the plant, flipping switches and closing all the valves they found. They were still trying to figure out how to stop the plant when it blew up, killing Sergeant Somnzib, his squad, and everything within four miles. They had no way of knowing the power of the blast or that they were doomed with the first valve they closed. Unknown to Ceidas, the plant was near the San Andreas Fault and the blast resulted in an earthquake that killed millions of humans. For Ceidas, the mission had been a complete success. The destruction of the power grid, combined with the earthquake, disrupted the magnetic forces of the earth and all of the planet was thrown into darkness. The resulting blackness descending over the land resulted in the death of millions across the face of the planet.

  King Ceidas decided that he would honor Sergeant Somnzib and his squad when they returned.

  Informed by his scouts that the motorized vehicles were no longer running and the flying machines did not work, Ceidas began to celebrate. He was now certain of their victory. He divided his forces, sending 100,000 warriors north to meet up with the Canadian Army. Ceidas would command the remaining forces, beginning with a march to capture the National Guard Post his scouts had discovered. It was less than thirty miles south. He would be able to study the captured weapons and determine the best method to overrun Texas, the most populated area near him.

  One problem to take care of first. Ceidas called forth the technician, Pucces. “Your advice resulted in the Tonkian Army having a great advantage in the war against humans. For this I commend you. You are now the head technician and Advisor to the Throne.”

  “My life is dedicated to assisting my King,” said the tech as he knelt before the King.

  Ceidas ripped his head off, tore out several of his hearts, and watched the lifeless body spasm on the floor.

  “No one takes credit but me,” said King Ceidas.

  With night beginning to fall, Ceidas had his troops in position to overrun the post. Ceidas saw a well-manned outpost, firmly embedded behind a significant fence. He would lose a few troops, but his forces could rip everything down.

  One of the technicians from the library approached him.

  “Your Highness, could I address you?”

  “What is it? I’m busy right now, speak quickly.”

  “Your Highness, I have been studying the historical tapes in the library. This planet has somehow given rise to armies of the dead. They cause unreasoning fear and the people flee wildly from them. I would suggest that our troops assume the disguise of walking dead humans, they call them zombies, and march at the outpost. If the tapes are correct, you could overtake the outpost without the lo
ss of any troops.”

  “Zanper! That is the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.”

  “Your Royal Highness, I have brought illustrations of this aberration.”

  The technician had four posters from zombie movies. The King looked quickly at them. He decided quickly.

  “Pass the pictures through the first forty soldiers and have them assume the disguise of a zombie. They begin their attack in ten minutes.”

  The soldiers guarding the outpost noticed a large crowd of people slowly walking at them. This far out of town, crowds were unusual, alerting the guard, and he put in a call to the post commander. The commander watched the crowd approach slowly and wasn’t overly worried. At one blocks distance with the failing light, they looked normal. At half a block, he could see the failing bodies, rags hanging off them. They stumbled as they walked. He called out several times, but they never answered and never stopped walking. The eerie silence, and the steady slow approach of the grotesque appearing horde, was beginning to spook his troops. At twenty- five yards, he had the guard’s fire in front of them. No response. He had the soldiers load up with rubber bullets which would not kill but were very painful.

  The word, zombies, was circulating among his men.

  “There is no such thing as a zombie,” shouted the commander.

  One of the beings was at the fence now and with a sweep of its hand, cut through the hardened wire.

  The commander ordered the soldiers to load with live ammo. Two soldiers did fire, but their weaponry had no effect on the beings in the crowd. The bullets passed through their bodies with no visible effect. Voodoo and metaphysical magic were being used as a weapon against them. The men backed away from the fence which had was been shredded to the point where the crowd was entering the enclosure.

  The commander was firing magazine after magazine at the crowd, while his soldiers were backing up. Suddenly one of the creatures in the crowd reached out and impaled the commander, driving his arm through the middle of the man’s body. The dying man was lifted high in the air as his life’s blood splashed out in all directions. The creature swept his arm upward and decapitated the unfortunate man.

  The soldiers broke and ran.

  King Ceidas’s first victory against the human military.

  TRIST’S JOURNEY ENDS

  Maps found in the cab of the eighteen-wheeler showed Trist that he was about thirty miles north of the Texas border. The trip had been long and tiring. His energy was flagging. He stopped near a small creek and dismounted, leaving the truck’s motor running. He was joined by his family, also weary from the long trip.

  “Cal,” called Trist, “You feeling anything?”

  “Far ahead there are many living bodies, but I think we’re okay here.”

  “Anybody want to keep watch? I’m heading in for a bath. I smell worse than that goat you kids used to have.”

  “I got it,” said Rick, who grabbed his M1 and scrambled to the top of the cab. Trist trusted Rick’s keen eyesight, marksmanship, and killer instinct.

  “I’ll help him,” said Cheri. Trist watched her jump from the front of the towed-truck to the top of the big rig’s trailer. She walked up and sat by Rick. Trist had noticed the pairing off of his children. He approved of this match. Rick was well suited to Cheri.

  The coyotes milled around him as he walked to the creek. Most wanted a drink, but one caught a rattlesnake near the edge of the water, and soon they were all scrambling for a bite of the unfortunate snake.

  He waded out knee-deep and lay down, letting the cool water sluice over him. He scrubbed down, rinsed, and began to feel a little more human. Several of the kids were splashing in the water, enjoying this small break. No telling how soon before they could freely relax again.

  Loading back up, Izzie approached Trist.

  “We will probably hit the armies soon. I think we should clearly mark the side we are with. I’d hate to make it through the Tonks only to be shot by the humans.”

  “You’re right on. Got any ideas?”

  “Of course. Had nothing to do for the last week but plan and scrounge.” She pulled out a large American flag and fastened the pole high on the cab where it would easily be seen by all. She also took out a white flag and fastened that next to the American flag.

  “Excellent,” said Trist. “That will let the National Guard know we’re with them.”

  “I have a little help for the battle with the Tonkians,” she said. “Take a look at these.” She pulled two small cylindrical objects from under her mattress on the truck, and glued them to the bumper of the rig. “That should help.”

  “What will they do?” asked Trist.

  “They’re wailers. The Tonkians will hear us coming from five miles off if they work as well as I hope.”

  “How do I activate them?”

  “Drive above ten MPH. Wind speed is the secret.”

  “Damn, Izzie, you are truly a miracle worker. Let’s give them a try.”

  As the speed of the rig picked up, the wailers began with a low moaning sound that rose to a piercing roar.

  Trist stopped the rig. “Let’s keep those banshees covered until we need them. They’re liking to melt my brain.” With the wailers covered but attached to a rope, they began to roll again.

  I’ve done all I can to insure the survival of our children, Izixebi, he thought. I hope you’re proud of them.

  The family began to see small bands of Tonkians fifteen miles north of Fort Worth. Five miles further, they had the wailers working as they drove through a sea of green. The truck smashed many from their path and the shotguns working in the towed truck kept the few brave Tonks who tried to leap on, from boarding.

  Thick enough to darken the sky, arrows and rocks came flying at them, but the barricaded truck managed to keep the family safe. The shields were lumpy and pierced with arrows, but none caused any injury to the family.

  Suddenly, the way was clear.

  Now, thought Trist, we only have to deal with the humans.

  Once inside the American lines, Trist let the rig roll to a stop and dismounted. A squad of soldiers circled them and watched with rifles ready. Trist raised his hands instinctively.

  “We have come to join your fighting force,” said Trist.

  His family dismounted one by one, with their hands raised high, also. The soldiers tried to board the towed-truck, but seven snarling coyotes kept everyone off.

  The moment grew tense. The soldiers were unsure of their duties and nervous with fear. A Sergeant Major stepped into the tight-packed arena.

  “Lower your weapons, men. Feel like fighting, get up on that firing line and kill some of those green-skinners.”

  He turned back to talk to Trist. “Welcome to what little safety there is. My name is Sergeant Major Otis Radel. Watch your heads, rocks come flying through here every now and then. Be ready to move south if they breach our lines. We’ve been pushed backward twice so far this week. We’ll have a few questions for you later, but do you need anything now? Food or water?”

  “We could all use water. I request that my family remain here so they can control our dogs. The dogs are not used to strangers. They have been trained to detect and kill Tonkians.”

  The soldiers were still standing around, watching. Perhaps three pretty girls with fair hair was the reason, thought Trist.

  “Tonkians,” asked the Sergeant Major, “is that the name of the aliens we’re fighting?”

  “Yes,” he answered. “They’re invaders from the planet of Tonk.”

  Trist knew that his knowledge of the aliens would alert the Sergeant Major, and that he would know the General needed to see him as a soon as possible.

  “If you would come with me, we’ll begin your debriefing. Find out what you learned and saw out there. We certainly want to find out how you got that truck to run.”

  “Who’s in command here?” asked Trist.

  “Major General Dan Wyatt is in command of this arm of the National Guard.”

&nbs
p; “I’ll explain everything to you, but first I need to see the General.”

  ”Tough to get in to see him, he’s pretty busy right now.”

  “Tell him that my family and I have valuable information on how to fight these aliens. I saw how you were fighting the Tonkians, and without our help, you will have an impossible task trying to defeat them.”

  “Take a seat, buddy,” said the Sergeant Major, “be back as soon as I can.”

  He turned to his troops. “Cathcart, get up here.” A soldier came running up. “Take care of our visitors until I return. Do not let anyone talk to them.” The Sergeant Major strode off.

  Trist walked up to the battle-line and looked at the field before him. It appeared to have been plowed. He could see arrows and rocks flying at the National Guardsmen. The Americans had barricades of wood and metal six feet high behind which they stood and fired at the Tonkians. He could see mortars landing out on the battlefield and believed they were effective in keeping the Tonkians down.

  Sweating hard, with a bottle of water in his hand, Trist stood and patiently waited while fear gripped hard in his gut. The presence of so many humans pressed against him. He was unsure whether he was still wanted for the Chicago Massacre. Had he traveled this far only to die with his family? His senses seemed to be floating, his pulse thundered in his ears. Fear was causing far too much stress on his already worn-out body. He had worked this hard to get to the army, only to find they were being beaten by the Tonks.

  The arrows and rocks raining from the sky continued to deplete the lines of the National Guards. Stretchers, carried by medics, traveled quickly from the lines to the aide station. Trist thought the American General had used a retreat and then stand-firm policy, trying to find a way to slow the attack without losing too many soldiers.

  He thought about the General. How much should he tell? What should remain a secret? Would he be trust-worthy? It would all be laid on his shoulders, his family would live or die by decision of the General. If the General was implacable in pursuing his own war, mankind was faced with extermination.