Custodian_Monster of Earth Book One

by Patrick F. Johnson

  “Yeah, you're probably right.” He smiled and nodded his head as he stepped into the red circle. And then he was gone.

  Turning to Phildan, Frank said, “He's going to have a hard time explaining how he got out here.”

  Phildan only shrugged and returned his attention to his data pad while Hiro held back a laugh. Within minutes they had returned to the island. They landed and dropped out of the boat to find the Wrecking Crew all suited up and apparently ready for action.

  “What do we got?” Frank asked Dave directly.

  “Small dome, Florida.”

  “We better go see what they want.”

  * * *

  It was a dark night, but Jason Reed was very familiar with shipping containers. He had been filling them up with people for quite some time. His hired guns were adept at rounding up vagrants and homeless people, and various others who were meant to just disappear, and storing them until a scheduled pick up time. The cattle and pigs were actually purchased through covert channels, but the people had to be rounded up directly. Usually, they would supply the containers with food, water and buckets. But this time, there would be none of that. This particular container was reserved for just one man.

  He found himself wondering if these gray freaks were the same as the ones he always met at the pick up point. They all looked the same to him, but this group of grays was particularly well armed. He counted eight of them with backpack rifles and another eighteen with their regular guns. He reminded himself to make a hasty exit after completing his objective. All the preparations had been made. The shipping container had been placed inside an area with a six foot razor wired fence with one open gate. The fog dome generator was placed near the open door of the big metal box, directly across from several closed ones. He was lying in wait for his quarry. It was just him, his Berettas, an AT4 anti-tank weapon, and several well armed Rotinoms. Their ship was parked a few miles away, awaiting their signal.

  Jason was musing to himself about comparing Frank to a big fish that got way. No one had ever evaded him before, and he was anxious for this second chance. He didn't have to wait long because not twenty minutes after they activated the dome, a shadowy figure in a gray hoodie strode into the yard. Jason couldn't make out his face but he was about the same height and build as Ford, and he was carrying a sword, and smoking a cigar. “How crass,” he thought to himself as he activated the night sights on the AT4 and wiped the sweat from his eyes. The single overhead light didn't amount to much, but when the dark figure moved directly toward the generator, Reed knew it had to be Ford. He lined up the sights and squeezed the trigger. From that close range Ford didn't have time to react, but his force field absorbed the impact of the shell as it's detonation sent him flying backwards into the open container. His limp body bounced awkwardly against the side wall before hitting the far end. Four of the little gray men who had taken post behind the door began to push it shut. Jason ran forward to engage the lock and then eyed his escape route. He wanted to stay and watch the rest of the process, but the Senator had warned him to not stick around too long.

  Before he could reach the gate, the entire yard came under heavy fire, and Jason found himself diving for cover between two of the containers that were opposite of Frank's. It was the unmistakable sound of an M-60. The Rotinoms who had been standing guard started to return fire and were soon joined by four of the backpack equipped aliens. The other four backpackers began to fire continuously into the container that Frank had been launched into. He had clarity enough through the confusion of the sudden firefight to appreciate the fruition of his plans. Initially, he thought of taking the container into space and suffocating Ford that way, but whomever the Senator had been in communication with decided against that course of action, as the enemy had much faster ships. So they went back to the plan to drown him. Thousands upon thousands of bullet holes would ensure a fast sinking of the container. He heard the eerie hum of the approaching ship and watched as it gently set down on top of the metal box. As the backpackers turned to join the others in the firefight, the ship raised with the container somehow stuck to the underside of it's hull. Frank Ford was done and now all that was left was to make his escape.

  The Senator had told him that the little gray men had the ability to see people coming, through the fog, and in complete darkness. It turns out he was wrong. The backpackers were firing blindly in all directions when one of them fell. A few seconds later he heard the report of the high powered rifle. That was a sound he knew all too well and decided to hop the fence and go out the back way. He shimmied his way between the fence and the back of a couple of containers before he found one with a makeshift ladder welded to it. He climbed on top, keeping low, and waited for what he felt was the right time to make his move. Swiftly he stood and jumped off the box, over the fence and into a grassy area near some dumpsters. Taking cover, he awaited the incoming fire that never happened. He determined the direction that was opposite the way the bullets had been coming in from, and took off in a fast jog. The fog was thick and any street lights were just distant halos that really were no help to him. He found a road and ran away from the generator. It was a small dome, and before long, he left its confines to find a police road block about a quarter of a mile away. Feeling relief in the cool night air, he noticed someone jogging up the road to greet him. Before long, he realized it was a United States Marine, and when he could make out the man's face, it was filled with a look of recognition. The soldier was raising his gun, but Jason was faster, and he fired one shot straight into the young man's head. At that, he made a right turn and headed straight for the forest. He had studied the map of the area well and knew that the forest might come in handy in a pinch. Eluding the local authorities was a small matter. He made his way through the brush with a feeling of euphoria, having completed his mission.

  * * *

  Phildan was hovering the landing boat in a safe position, watching the video feed, when the explosion happened. He snapped to attention when an orb activated itself from the charging dock.

  “What happened, Mistress?”

  “Frank was hit with some kind of explosive. My remote was disabled. I have no idea what's going on. I didn't know such weapons existed!”

  “Is he alive?”

  “I have no idea.” Just then they saw the ship departing the dome with the container. “Keep your eyes on that ship. I'm going to alert the others.” The orb disappeared through the red circle in the floor and Phildan rushed to comply with her request. Hiro could only sit on the couch and feel powerless.

  * * *

  From their position in a wooded area on a small hill overlooking the yard, Dave and Jones were enjoying their work. From a couple hundred yards away, Chavez was systematically shooting the Rotinoms, one by one. His voice came through their headsets.

  “Sir, there seems to be a ship departing. Should I shoot at it?”

  “Negative. Those bullets have to come down somewhere and there's civilians nearby. How's the hunting from over there?”

  “Like fish in a barrel, Sarge.”

  “These suits are working flawlessly. How are you able to target them from that distance?”

  “There's one light, and those backpacks are reflective. I did see some blowback from something like an anti-tank weapon, but nothing came out this way.”

  “We saw a flash and a small explosion too. I hope Frank's okay.”

  “Like he said, he's bullet-proof. So just keep shooting, Sarge”

  “Agreed. I just hope Kenny was able to get to the locals before they decide to come charging in. He hasn't reported in.” A short time later, Dave was startled by the sudden appearance of the orb. “Gladys, what are you doing out here?”

  “Frank was hit with some kind of explosion. My remote was disabled. I fear he is being taken away in that ship.”

  Thinking quickly, Dave issued a new command. “Change of plans, boys. Let's mop this up.” The four Marines began their descent toward the yard in complete stealth. W
hen they got close enough, they could see the bodies of all eight backpackers strewn in various angles across the area just outside the gate. Just inside, the remaining Rotinoms weren't even making an attempt at finding cover. They were waving their guns around, trying to find a target. “Jones, take them out.” The M-60 made quick work of the little gray aliens. “Let's do a sweep then we'll scoop up Kenny. And then we'll go find Frank.”

  After they were satisfied that the threat was terminated, they planted a small charge on the dome generator and blew it up. Slowly the fog began to dissipate, and they set off to find Kenny. As they were walking down the road, Gladosanthos spoke.

  “They just dropped one of those metal boxes into the ocean. I think Frank is inside.”

  “Is there a way to mark the spot until we can get there?” Dave asked.

  “Frank has a homing beacon. I'm sending help. I will have to power this remote down for the duration. Please hold out your hand.” Dave held out his hand and the remote landed in his palm. He stuck it in the side pocket of his pants. None of the men commented on the weirdness that had just happened.

  Potts broke the silence. “How are we going to find a shipping container, underwater, at night?”

  “I'm a pretty good swimmer but who knows how deep that thing could be,” Jones added.

  Before Dave could respond, they were greeted by two official looking men walking toward them from a roadblock off in the distance.

  Holding up their credentials, one of the men spoke, “Agents Hogan and McCreedy. I'm afraid we have a Marine down. Is the Gray Man with you?”

  “He's been captured. Where's my Marine?”

  “This way.” They led them a short way to where Kenny's dead body laid in the street.

  Holding up a light, Jones said, “That looks like a nine millimeter, Sarge. This wasn't no alien.”

  Furious, Dave only said one word, “Cabal.”

  “Sergeant, we've been assigned to the Gray Man. We need to know the specifics of his status.”

  “This whole thing was a trap. They somehow lured him into a shipping container and they've dropped him into the ocean.”

  “Is rescue possible? Or is he assumed dead?”

  “There's a rescue operation underway as we speak.”

  “Who is in charge of the rescue operation?”

  “His friends. You know, from up there.” Dave glanced toward the stars.

  “That isn't the proper protocol.”

  “There is no protocol. We left you a couple dozen dead aliens up the hill. You might want to clean it up before any civilians show up.” He turned his back on the agents so he and his men could grieve for their fallen brother.

  * * *

  Frank came to just in time to feel weightlessness, and his body slamming into the hard ceiling of a room he couldn't see. He had never experienced such complete darkness before, and for an instant, he wondered if he had somehow gone blind. He barely had time to finish that thought when his body was slammed hard onto the floor. And then he was inundated with water coming at him from every direction. The room began to tilt and he found himself sliding downward into the quickly filling pool in what was now the lower corner of the space. Feeling the walls, he realized they were metal, and riddled with hundreds of small holes. Soon, he realized he was inside a shipping container, and it was sinking fast.

  “Gladys?” He called out for her casually. He felt no sense of desperation. Putting his eye up to where he felt a hole, he could make out the reflection of the moon on the waves of the ocean. Laughing out loud, he said to himself, “Well, it looks like they got me. Drowning is as good a way to go as any.” Resigning himself to his fate, he let the water carry him up the slope until eventually he felt the opposite end of the room press against him. “Oh well, I tried. I hope they're all prepared. That's probably better than I could have hoped for.” He didn't seem to mind talking to himself. “At least they don't gotta waste money on a funeral.” He felt a weird vibration coming from his bracelet. “Oh yeah, the homing beacon thing. I wonder if they'll ever find me. Oh well, everything dies.” As the container totally left the surface and there was only a small pocket of air left in the uppermost corner, Frank felt an odd warmth overcome him as the water was pushed away from his body. His shield was somehow pushing the water away, surrounding him in an envelope of air. His knees raised upward as he went into a fetal position and felt himself slip into a slumber. His breathing slowed, as well as his heart rate. He remained in a state of near death, with his implant and shield working together to sustain him.

  * * *

  Bett, the Fisher had grown to enjoy his daily conversations with the orb. It granted him a brief reprieve from his isolation. Pleasant conversation was a new concept, and he found that it suited him just fine. Gone were the competition and bickering. As well as the fighting and killing. And he missed the incessant laughter the least of all. He was feeling as optimistic as a Mingrein possibly could, and the varitherm suit had given him a new lease on life. Not only was he a very good swimmer, he discovered that he actually enjoyed it very much now that it didn't nearly kill him to do so. He was resting on a rock, drying off after a swim, when the orb found him.

  “Bett, Frank needs your assistance, if you are willing.” The hard gutturals sounded unnatural coming from her normally melodic voice.

  “I would be honored to have an opportunity to prove myself worthy of his praise.” He rose to his bare, clawed feet and stood up tall.

  “Good. Hold still.” She lifted him into a landing boat. It was another of the five that had been still been docked on the Main Ship.

  Much like everyone else, Bett instinctively stepped out of the red circle and began to inspect his surroundings. This boat had bare, empty rooms. It had not been used for quite some time and other than Phildan, no non-Sessik had ever been aboard. He decided that standing suited him, as there was nothing besides the bare floor to sit upon.

  “What is the situation?” He asked as politely as he could manage.

  “We were ambushed. They somehow managed to get Frank inside what is called a shipping container, and they dropped him into the ocean. He may very well be dead by now, but I'm not ready to give up on him just yet.”

  “Can this vessel be submerged? I know it is invisible, but had I been the adviser for such a mission, I would keep watch on the area to make sure a rescue was not possible.”

  “In theory, yes, but only to a certain depth. How deep can you swim?”

  “We may soon find out.”

  “I want to make it very clear right now that you are not expected to risk your life.”

  “He chose to spare my life. I am more than willing to try to save his. He is quite remarkable, isn't he?”

  “Yes, very much so. I couldn't be more pleased with him. We're here. I'll do my best to keep it level.”

  “The speed of your vessels lives up to their reputation.”

  She guided the boat down above the area where Frank's homing beacon was located. While she fought the ocean's currents, she kept an eye on the hull integrity. It seemed to be fine for the moment so she dove deeper. Finally she was forced to stop. “This is as deep as we can go. The box is directly below us.” The orb flew and bumped a panel and a drawer slid open. “There is a light in here that should be water resistant.” Bett grabbed the light and headed for the red circle. Gladys redirected him. “Use this port over here. It has a larger diameter. And I should use the airlock module.”

  He stepped inside the larger red circle and waited as a transparent cylinder slid down from the ceiling and sealed him in. The floor opened up and he dropped into the water. Down he dove into the darkness. The light only allowed him about eight feet of visibility and he hoped his course was true. Finally he found the shipping container and was relieved to find the door operable. He unlatched it and braced his foot on the opposite door to get the leverage to pull it open. His strength was more than adequate and as the door opened, Frank slipped by him and started quickly floating up
ward. Bett quickly let go of the door and swam after him. Having finally caught up with him, he found it nearly impossible to grab hold of him. There seemed to be a hard, invisible shell around his body, and in the water, it was too slippery to get a proper grip. Finally in desperation, as his air was running out, he bear-hugged Frank and swam upward. He couldn't see where he was going but he finally impacted the bottom of the boat. Feeling his way around, he couldn't locate the opening, so he pounded on the hull. To his left, the hatch became illuminated and he pulled Frank's shell over below the hatch. Unable to push Frank upward, he popped his head into the hatch and yelled, “Try the gravity beam!” The tube filled up with water, and Bett and Frank were sucked inside. The hatch closed, the tube went upward, and the room was instantly flooded.

  “Is he alive?” Gladosanthos asked as her remote began scanning for life.

  “I'm not sure. There was some kind of shell around him. It was quite difficult to guide him into the ship.”

  “He's breathing! You should step back. We don't know how he's going to react to having the first thing he sees being a Mingrein.”

  “Point taken.” Bett backed all the way against the far wall. She slowly began their ascent, watching Frank intently, and didn't notice Bett's strange behavior at first. But as he cried out in pain, she suddenly had to split her attention between the two of them. Frank seemed stable so she hovered her remote near Bett, trying to determine the issue.

  Frank came to, feeling oddly refreshed. He sat up to take in his surroundings. He quickly realized that he was in a landing boat, but not his own. Seeing Bett came as no shock, as he quickly recognized the suit. “What's wrong with him?” he asked.

  “Welcome back. He rescued you from the submerged shipping container, and now he is in great pain for some reason.”

  “Where are we?”