Surge Forward

by Nate Castle

  They located President Kaplan right away because he was one of the grillmasters, standing next to a barbecue cooking the burgers. They brought him back to the warehouse where Hank was being kept.

  “Hank buddy, do you want out of that box? Are you ready to start talking?” President Kaplan said.

  Hank made no sound, so Kaplan undid the lock and opened the box to make sure he was still alive. It was obvious right away that Hank was alive, but just didn’t feel like talking. Kaplan stepped away from the box, pulling Garrett and Logan with him.

  “I guess it’s time that we try tenting,“ Kap said.

  “What the heck is that?” Logan said.

  “It’s a fairly new torture method, but many say it’s more effective than waterboarding,” Kap said, “What I need you to do is go locate the gas cart. It will have a distinct label on it, 506TNTING8F and there will be around four or six different gas canisters mounted on the cart. I say cart, but it’s more like a hand truck. Bring the cart back here when you find it.”

  Logan left to find the tenting cart, while Garrett and the President went together down a row of storage shelves to look for an object unknown to Garrett.

  “If I don't know what it looks like, I won’t be much help trying to find one,” Garrett said.

  “It resembles a sleeping bag,” President Kaplan said.

  “Shoot, what a bunch of idiots! We forgot to close the door of the box, Hank is not locked up!” Garrett said.

  He doubled back to the holding area and saw Hank had one leg out of the the box already, while the other was resting on the rim. He must have heard Garrett running because he quickly made it to his and feet and headed toward the exit, quite an agile move from Hank especially given his age. Garrett was relentless though and caught up to Hank about 20 yards before reaching the exit door. He didn’t just catch up to him, he lowered his shoulders put a hit on Hank. It was as if Garrett was instructing a football tackling camp. The way he hit Hank required no use of his arms to ‘wrap him up’. The sound that echoed from the hit was one of those, ‘Oh man I feel bad for that guy, he just got wrecked’ sounds. Hank was put out of commission from the hit and lay there on the ground, with one hand clutching his ribs.

  By this point President Kaplan was there to assist. They quickly lifted Hank and carried him back to the box, making sure to lock it this time before going off once again down the storage rows to find their modified tent. About ten minutes later, they were all back with the needed supplies.

  “You see this attachment? Take one of the hoses from a canister and screw it on. It doesn’t matter which canister is attached first,” President Kaplan said.

  From the side of the tent there was a metal galvanized connector that Logan attached the canister hose to.

  “Help me get him in here,” President Kaplan said.

  Together, they lifted Hank into the tenting bag. Once inside the seven foot long bag, they pulled a zipper shut. Hank was now fully submerged in the bag, with no room to move around and no fresh air that he could breathe. The only thing going in or out of the bag from this point on would be the gas from the canisters.

  “Here, you’re gonna want to wear one of these,’ President Kaplan said, and distributed gas masks to both of them.

  “Turn the gas on from canister #1,” he said.

  Logan did and they heard a hissing sound which meant it was working.

  “As you’ve probably already gathered, tenting is the act of putting someone in a very confined tenting bag, closing it shut, and then injecting it with some of the foulest smelling gases on Earth. The victim won’t have a way to escape the smells. We do 2-3 minute rounds and then unzip the bag so the victim can get some fresh air. With each new round we switch to a different gas canister and up the frequency of gas,” Hank said, “Of the times I’ve witnessed this method in use, I’ve never seen someone make it past three rounds before they couldn’t take it anymore and started cooperating. I’ve also seen some pretty messed up things happen though. For example, one guy intentionally broke his own nose so that he could avoid the horrid smells being pumped into the tent.”

  “What’s the gas in this first round?” Garrett said.

  “It’s like a sulfur cocktail. Imagine the worst fart you’ve ever smelled. Now amplify that by 10 and that’s what you have here,” President Kaplan said.

  “It’s been 2 minutes should I open the flap?” Garrett said.

  President Kaplan gave Garrett the go-ahead with a thumbs up gesture and Garrett unzipped the top portion of the bag, so Hank could stick his head out.

  “What do you think buddy, are you ready to give us some information?” Garrett said.

  Hank stayed silent once again. Garrett let this last for about 15 seconds before zipping the flap shut again.

  ‘Canister #2, Go,” President Kaplan said.

  Logan turned on the second canister of gas.

  “What’s this one?” he said.

  “It’s hard to describe. Let’s just say it’s the smell of a dead animal that’s been dead for a couple months mixed with rotten cheese, mixed with the smell of blood,” President Kaplan said.

  They couldn’t see into the bag, but knew exactly what was happening next when Hank let out some familiar sounds. He was vomiting uncontrollably from the smell. He continued to do so for the whole two minute round. When Garrett opened the flap this time, Hank had a pained look on his face, you could tell he was suffering.

  “Don’t make us put you through another round, c’mon Hank,” President Kaplan said.

  Suddenly, something crawled out of Hank’s left ear and scurried across the cement floor, attempting to get out of sight.

  “What the hell is that!” Garrett said.

  “Quick, we have to capture it! It’s an alien, but in a different form,” Logan said.

  Logan zipped the tenting bag, so that Hank was enclosed in it again; he didn't want to take any chances this time. He ran towards what he would describe as a slug that was crawling across the floor. Running on instincts, Logan grabbed a sharp looking object attached to a pole that was hanging on an end cap shelf, and when he was close enough to the slug, he stabbed it with the pole, so that it could no longer move. The alien slug didn’t seem to be wounded, but it was crushed between the pole and the floor for the time being.

  “We need some kind of box to put it in, something extremely strong that can’t be expanded by force,” Logan said, “I’m guessing that this thing can transform back to a large alien size, so we need to prevent that from happening.”

  President Kaplan was the first one to come back with a container that looked secure, but also provided the luxury of being able to see inside because of the small viewing window. The container was the size of a pencil box, the kind teachers always made you buy in junior high school.

  “This should work. How are we going to get the alien in there though?” President Kaplan said.

  “You tell me, I’m not going to touch that thing with my bare hands,” Logan said.

  Garrett chimed in, “We take these 2 x 4’s and lay them next to each other to create a box. If the slug escapes from our grasp, it will have to climb over the wood boards to get far away from us. Logan, on the count of 3 when I have the container close enough to the slug, I want you to let off the pressure from the pole and use it like a hockey stick to shoe the slug into the container,”

  Garrett ran to grab the four 2x4’s he was referring to and set them in place.

  “Alright 1-2-3” Logan released the pressure from the pole and the alien slug quickly slid across the floor trying to get to safety. Garrett couldn’t get it into the container fast enough. Logan tried to use the pole as a hockey stick, but when he did the slug jumped off the ground just high enough to where the sweep of the pole wouldn’t touch it. Now at the nearest board, the slug began to climb up and over the top. Garrett, panicked, and not knowing what else to do reached his hand down grabbed the slug and threw it into the container, shutting the lid after the slu
g was inside.

  “Sometimes the old fashioned way works the best,” Garrett said. He was proud of his achievement.

  “I don’t know how to tell you this Garrett, but have a look at your hand,” President Kaplan said.

  Garrett hadn’t felt a thing during the scramble to get the alien slug into the container, but when he looked down at his right hand, he noticed that half of his pinky finger was gone, like it was a candle that had melted down. There was no blood and no pain, which was the only positive he could see from this.

  “Well boys, I guess I learned my lesson and none of us will ever be touching an alien with our bear hands again,” Garrett said. It was amazing that he said this with a calm voice, not freaking out that he had just lost half of his finger.

  “You’re not more concerned with the loss of your finger?” Garrett said.

  “No, I’m thankful that it was my pinky rather than my pointer finger. Once we get out of this nightmare, mark my words, Sumesh will develop a drug that will make my finger grow back. That is my prediction,” Garrett said.

  “Where should we store the alien? Are you thinking in the safe in the Situation Room down under the tunnel?” President Kaplan said.

  “Exactly. And only us plus a select few should know about its existence. I don’t want any of the civilians coming up with any crazy ideas,” President Kaplan said.

  18

  Screw Politically Correct

  Christina broke away from the barbecue so she could go check on the glass box. When she got there, nothing had changed, the box still acted as a barrier that the bots, aliens and humans couldn’t escape from. A brilliant idea came to her, what if the bots could be hacked? She ran to her workstation in a room that was accessed through the tunnel and grabbed some techie equipment including a laptop. She had learned a lot about hacking from a previous boyfriend who was really into that way of life. With the glass box in between her and the bots, she could take a risky approach to the hacking and still be safe from retaliation by the bots or aliens.

  She tried protocol after protocol and was getting ready to give up when one finally did the trick. A control panel popped up on her computer screen. She adjusted a few of the settings and noticed the bot closest her to began to perform certain actions. She couldn’t understand it because the control panel wasn’t in English, but could get a sense of what each setting represented after witnessing what the bot would do. One setting she found could come in handy later. The bot inside the glass box, drove towards an alien craft and used both of its arms to rip components off of the craft, rendering it useless. Another setting created what looked like battering ram at the front of the bot, that could wipe out most objects on the first hit. A final setting that she made a note to remember was what she titled the ‘lightning strike’. When activated it sent out a burst of electricity that stunned (maybe even killed) all of the aliens and humans inside of the box.

  “Hey good looking,” she said when she saw Garrett approach the box.

  “Whatcha doing over here? It looks like something I should pay attention to?” Garrett said.

  “Nothing that can’t be put on hold. You ready to go on that mission of our own, just the two of us?” Christina said.

  “Sure why not, you lead the way, “ Garrett said.

  Christina with the computer still in hand, led Garrett towards the tunnel. It seemed like a default location if you didn’t know where else to go.

  “Wait, the tunnel is too obvious. We should go across the street,” Garrett said.

  They adjusted their route and walked to the back parking lot of a warehouse that was familiar to Garrett from the past. Cutting through the lot, they passed rows of military style vehicles. Garrett tried the nearest humvee to check if it was unlocked, it was. He held the door open for Christina who climbed in the backseat.

  “You did it with Noel in an alien craft, so you’re already behind the 8-ball with me. You had better think of a way to make this an enchanting experience,” Christina said, “Why Noel anyways?”

  “Shhh. Don’t ask me questions that if I answer will make this situation awkward,” Garrett said, as he put his finger over her lips and started to tease her by bringing his lips close as if going in for a kiss and then pulling them away at the last minute.

  By the third time he did this Christina wasn’t having any more and she aggressively bobbed her head forward and grabbed ahold of his lips. They were going at it full force now, and Garrett adjusted their positioning so that he was on top of her in the back bench seat of the humvee. They were in a rhythm and had almost undressed each other fully, when a loud alarm sound erupted from the laptop Christina had place on the floor.

  “God dangit, what a buzzkill!” Christina said. She opened to the laptop to see what all the commotion was about.

  A message flashed across the screen ‘System Override. Use emergency protocol.’ She couldn’t understand why this message on the screen popped up in English, but wasn't going to waste time looking into it.

  “I want to ignore this, but I’m afraid that we can’t. Can we postpone this until a later time/date?” she said.

  “We’ll see about that, maybe if you’re lucky,” Garrett said and gave her a little wink.

  When they got close enough to see the glass box, they immediately felt it. The ground was shaking, but Christina had reason to believe that this wasn’t an earthquake caused by nature.

  “$20 says that box shatters within the next minute,” Garrett said.

  And he was right. A loud cracking sound ensued and the glass box was shattered, with shards of the material flying in every which way.

  “Get down!” Garrett yelled as he tackled her to the ground and lay on top of her to protect the best he could from the shrapnel. They were about 20 yards away at the time of the blast. When it seemed safe to get up, they walked toward the blast zone, both unharmed. The bots were still shaking in a back and forth motion even though the earthquake had stopped. Christina realized that they must have been the cause of the quake. The message on her computer meant that the bots had gone rogue and hadn’t waited for her command on the control panel.

  “Quick in here!” Christina said and led Garrett into the machine shop. They climbed a staircase to an office on the second floor that had a window which looked out on where the glass box had been.

  “I have to figure out how to shut off the bots, but I didn’t feel safe doing it from out there,” Christina said.

  She was all business now, with her eyes glued to the computer screen, typing commands into the control panel, at the same speed as a court reporter would. The actions for the bots to perform were controlled by the buttons on the control panel, but to shut down the system itself, that was something she would have to use hacker’s code for. Garrett was quite impressed.

  “I think they are starting to drive away,” Garrett said.

  “Well this is likely my last chance then,” she said and rapidly typed in another command.

  Two of the bots that were driving towards the White House came to an abrupt stop, the blinking light on top of their frame no longer blinking.

  “Ka-ching! They’ve been shut down!” Christina said.

  Logan undid the hinge to the box that Hank was still trapped in and pulled it open to let Hank out.

  “God damn, you guys are brutal, locking me in a box and using the tenting technique on me,” Hank said.

  “It was an unfortunate situation, I’m glad it’s over now. Happy to have you back buddy, I thought for a brief period that you might have turned on us,” Logan said.

  “Did you trap that alien?” Hank said.

  “Yes it’s locked up in a safe,” Logan said.

  “It was a life-altering experience, having an alien in my brain with total control of everything. Like I was in a horror movie,” Hank said, “But the good news is, I learned a few things from the alien that I wouldn’t have otherwise known. I think it tried to shelter its thoughts from me, but I was able to pick up on certain t
hings it was thinking. One recurring thought it kept having had to do with San Quentin. Another one was something about Yosemite.”

  “Those two pieces of information might be the key to defeating these suckers. Good work Hank, I’ll have a team look into it. C’mon let’s go, I’ll get you a leftover burger from the barbecue last night and a cup of coffee. You look like you could use one,” Logan said.

  “Do you have the command memorized? The one you typed in to disable the bots?” Garrett said.

  “Yes, I have it. What do you think about writing a new code to rewire the bots? And then use them to our advantage? Do you think it’s too risky, given what happened when we took control of the bots the last time?” Christina said.

  “I don’t think it’s too risky. I don’t know much about technology but in the old code, maybe there was some kind of loophole or bug that allowed for the bots to not follow commands and do their own thing. If you rewrite the code with no errors, I don’t see how the bots would be able to disobey the commands this time,” Garrett said.

  “Ok, your logic makes sense. You better go, come back in about an hour. Having you here is just going to make me too riled up, I won’t be able to get any work done,” she said and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

  Garrett did as he was told and went to look for the others. The President, Thomas, Hank, and Logan were all gathered around what used to be the glass box, examining the wreckage. The humans trapped inside the box were deceased unfortunately as were the aliens from the ‘lightning strike’ that the bots shot at them. Hank was busy telling the President about the intel he learned when the alien was inside him.

  “I have a contact on the west coast, I’ll give him a call and have him drive by San Quentin to see if he can get a sense for what is going on there. Yosemite will be a little tougher, I don’t have any contacts within close proximity,” President Kaplan said, “We might have to send someone on a fly-by to check it out.”