Waiting

by Gary Weston

  Gunther said, 'We were just discussing it. One minor detail. We'll never make ten yards outside.'

  'Great,' said Willis. 'We stay here, we die. Go out, we die.'

  Gunther stared at Staples and asked, 'We either go together or not at all. What is it to be?'

  Staples looked at Bridget and said, 'If there's any way out of here, we go together.'

  * * *

  'Ready?' said Gunther.

  'Go for it,' said Salamandra.

  The main door of the Base slid open just enough for the vehicle to roll outside, then slid shut again. It made just twenty yards before being blasted to scrap metal. Up in the shattered turret, Staples heard the telltale sounds of laser and had a damned good idea of the direction the shooting was coming from. The gas cannister launcher rattled his eardrums as he fired off twenty of them where he hoped it would do the most good. He poked a hand outside to test the wind direction and smiled.

  'Enough to put hundreds to sleep.'

  It was time to go. The Charger was ready to go and Gunther, Salamandra and Willis were in passenger seats, laser rifles at the ready and Bridget was in the driving seat. Staples dived into the back. 'I've no idea if I got them all. The decoy Charger worked perfectly.'

  'Ready to go?' Bridget asked.

  'Go!' said Gunther.

  Chargers were nothing more than glorified thinly armour plated personnel carriers. They were still vulnerable to sustained laser fire but they did have a nifty turn of speed when required. Zero to two hundred in four seconds. In exactly four seconds, Bridget had the gauge needle indicating that limit had been pushed to the maximum. That didn't stop laser power burning holes into the side of the vehicle, narrowly missing Willis' head by inches.

  'I do wish folk would stop shooting at me.'

  'Then shoot back,' yelled Staples. 'You have one good arm, don't you?'

  'Yeah. I'd give my right arm to be ambidextrous. Give me that damn rifle.'

  With the rear door wide open, Willis and Staples could see that two soldiers hadn't succumbed to the gas and were gaining on the Charger on two stingers.

  'Wonderful.' said Staples. 'Missiles heading our way are all we need.'

  'They're still out of our range,' said Willis. 'But we aren't out of theirs.'

  'Bridget!' bellowed Staples.

  'Going as fast as we can.'

  Willis said, 'I'll get out and push if it helps.'

  'Incoming,' said Staples.

  The stinger's missile weaved its way through the air and a fortuitous bend in the desert road had the Charger in the wrong place. The missile threatened the paintwork, but little else. The stingers were still gaining on the Charger and another missile streaked towards the vehicle and this one was bang on target. There was only one way to survive this one and both Willis and Staples held their triggers down on their laser rifles. Thirty yards to go and the missile blew to bits.

  'One of mine,' said Willis.

  'In your dreams,' said Staples. 'You were miles out.'

  'Crap,' said Willis. 'Even with one hand I can out-shoot you blindfold.'

  Staples said, 'Great. Then hit this next one.'

  They still fired together and didn't give a damn which of them blew up that missile. Willis took his anger out on the stingers but his laser was still shy of the distance. Staples knew they had pushed their luck and the next missile would finish them off. Bridget took a sharp bend around a high sandstone cliff and Staples saw his chance. Taking careful aim he fired at the top of the cliff and large chunks of stone tumbled down as the stingers rounded the bend. The small sandstone avalanche crashed into the stingers and their riders were thrown clear as the machines were buried.

  'I'll give you that one,' said Willis. 'Done?'

  'Done,' said Staples, closing up the rear door.

  Chapter 67

  He lay on the bed still exploring the hosts mind. It was the emotions he found most fascinating. Not the first he'd encountered, but definitely the most defined. By contrast, on a planet now in his own distant memory they had encountered a race of four-legged hairy creatures which were, he admitted, reasonably intelligent, but were quite one dimensional. Basically, what they didn't dislike, they hated. If they had other emotions they were so buried they didn't come out even if the sun shined. Humans on the other hand, had more emotions than they knew what to do with and certainly more than they needed.

  He only knew one life. He had no idea as to where his kind had originated from. They crossed the galaxy, not in any conventional ship but in a patched up mongrel of a collection of ships from many civilisations. Some were so ancient, they served little purpose and made something ugly look quite obscene. There were parts of the ship even he hadn't ventured into. Eventually, the Goliath would be an add-on to the rest, once it had landed on the planet the humans called Spero. Apparently it meant hope in some ancient language. Irony could often be delicious.

  His ship was half buried in the dust on the planet and they had waited for the Goliath to land. Patience was the strongest virtue of his kind with the ability to adapt a close second. But the storm had blocked out all radio signals so monitoring the Goliath's progress was impossible. Confusion when not the parent ship but a splinter off it landed with just three humans landed. A plan was conceived and using the clouds of the storm to make one human the new host. It had been unbelievably simple to do and as if fate had ordained it, the shuttle took them back to the Goliath. Here he could influence events to go the way he needed them to go.

  Inside him, thousands fed off the host, taking only minuscule amounts of protein in order to survive. It was simply a matter of time until they each had a body to live in. He would retain this one. One paradox to this nomadic, parasitic life was that by taking over a body, that body became infertile. That was the one constant; invariably happening time and time again. Then at the end of the hosts life, they would be forced to share hosts which survived until finally, only one remained. In the last few years of the hosts life new plans would be made and new hosts would be found.

  The humans were a gift from the cosmos, with thousands of unborn humans ready to begin their own lives. From day one they would be hosts and become the carrier of another sentient being. They would live out their lives almost naturally, but their intelligence would be that of another species. Inevitably they would age and finally die, and as they drew their last breaths, those living inside them would move on, discarding the host to move on yet again.

  Even more delicious was the fact that Earth could be reached within just a few years and the humans there were ripe for the taking. For now he just had to wait awhile longer, until it was time to enter the incubation room and begin the cycle over again.

  Chapter 68

  It was a sombre six hour drive at a shade under the top speed of two hundred miles per hour, stopping only to eat and their ablutions. The road was once the main highway built in the early twentieth century passing through three countries. The many wars had taken its toll of the towns and cities along the road and the highway itself had born the brunt of several battles leaving the scars where missiles had left a trail of wreckage and death. Between the cities where the desert ruled, wild creatures made a healthy living by cleaning up the carnage. So efficient they became that by the time teams from either side arrived to bury their dead there was often nothing left to bury. It was natures cycle of life.

  They crossed one boundary into Salamandra's territory where the damage inflicted had all but levelled the entire city and Bridget slowed the vehicle down.

  Salamandra said, 'Over sixteen thousand died here. Half were women and children.'

  Gunther exchanged glances with his daughter, knowing exactly what she was experiencing. He knew where most of the Tricor's might had been unleashed and that Captain Bridget Loretti would be in the thick of the arena, exchanging fire with the enemy. Now seeing it from the ground and being told that she was responsible for the deaths of innocent people including children would hit her hard. She expressed no em
otion but Gunther knew she would be churning up inside. He knew because he was also suffering an inner turmoil even though he had spent most of the time on the Base responsible for the mission on the Earth's side. They drove on.

  At a crossroads, twisted rusting signs pointed vaguely towards other cities and Bridget stopped.

  'Which way?' she said, looking at Salamandra.

  'Changah could be anywhere within a three hundred mile radius,' Salamandra told her.

  'So helpful. I'll keep going straight.'

  It was more of the same as they swerved around fallen buildings. Bridget wondered which had been brought down by her ship. It was the continuous whine from the engine she could hear, but she swore the screams of children blended in with it. The phrase, "Just following orders" did little to alleviate her sorrow and pain. True. The enemy had made sorties into her cities and destroyed much and killed many. It was all relative. It also seemed so pointless.

  They had just left one bombed out shell of a city when they were jarred out of their reflections as laser fire blasted the road in front of them, Bridget having to take evasive action.

  'Pull over,' said Salamandra.

  'What! And get wiped out?' said Bridget.

  'That would have happened already if that's what they wanted. Stop.'

  Another flash of red laser power just missed the front of the vehicle and Bridget stopped and turned off the engine. They sat holding their breath, expecting a bolt of laser fire to end their lives at any second. They dared to breathe when that didn't happen.

  'Where are they?' Staples said, checking out the buildings on either side especially the rooftops. A moving shape down a side-street had him aiming his rifle. The thin looking dog didn't look their way, but carried her prize of a dead rat dangling from her mouth as she vanished into the shadows.

  From an abandoned building a drone hovered towards them. Drones could have many purposes, including carrying explosive devices. It was a tense two minutes as it paused at each window, its camera sending back images to the controller.

  'I don't see anything to kill us,' said Willis, as the camera lens stared at his face.

  A voice from a speaker said just two words. 'Get out.'

  'Best not argue,' said Gunther, knowing any number of weapons could be pointing at them from any hideout.

  'No weapons,' said Salamandra, stepping out. 'Hands in the air.'

  They stood unarmed, close together, the drone circling them like a mechanical bird of prey. The controller, satisfied they carried no weapons, recalled the drone. A minute later, a solitary man appeared, a laser rifle in his hands. He was wearing the patchwork patterned brown and green one piece uniform Salamandra's military people wore.

  Salamandra said, 'My name is...'

  'Silence. Follow me.'

  'Do you not recognise me?'

  'I said silence. This way.'

  With the rifle at their backs they picked their way through the litter strewn street then into a commercial building. A brazier burned in the middle of a large storeroom, five men, none older than twenty-five, standing around it, four armed. The unarmed man approached ignoring all but Salamandra.

  'This situation intrigues me. You do not belong with these people. Explain.'

  'I am Salamandra.' This caused a buzz of excitement from the others, but they didn't put down their weapons.

  'Salamandra is dead.'

  Salamandra laughed. 'Sorry. I never got that memo. But as you can see from my battered face they were trying to kill me slowly.'

  'You escaped?'

  'With the help of these people. They are all considered traitors now because of it. We go back, we all die.'

  'My name is Kahrish.' He waved at his men and they relaxed and put down their rifles. 'Coffee?'

  The sharing of coffee was as much about acceptance as it was hospitality so everyone drank coffee from chipped and battered mugs. They sat on ripped and tattered furniture around the fire. Salamandra told them what had been happening.

  'And where from here?' Kahrish asked.

  'Changah,' said Salamandra.

  It was Kahrish's turn to laugh. 'Changah the ghost. You know yourself he can never be found.'

  'You have a map?'

  One of Kahrish's men quickly responded and placed the map on a tea-chest and pressed the tip. A three-dimensional holographic plan spread out from the device.

  Kahrish said, 'Sadly, not updated. Much of this area here and here are levelled and deserted.'

  'Where is Changah's last known hiding place?'

  'Hmm. I think...here. About two weeks ago.'

  Salamandra said, 'He'll have moved. Hmm. This area is a possibility. We need to go there.'

  'You will need an escort to get there safely. Ready to go?'

  'Take me to your leader.'

  Chapter 69

  He could not resist the temptation. But this was not just for himself. What he experienced, the thousands of others he carried inside would also experience. This was true of everything he did until such time as the others had their own host and he was alone in his host. He walked at a steady pace along the corridors then took the elevator up three floors then along another corridor to the incubation section. He was alone, save for the two thousand embryos in their individual life-support chambers. It was a heart-warming sight even though the heart was that of a human being.

  Walking between row upon row of chambers, he glanced down at many of them, taking his time for the benefit of those he carried. He felt an excited tingling inside him, as his kind viewed the embryos through his eyes and his mind. It was almost as if they were selecting which embryo would become their host, even though they looked almost identical.

  'Soon the waiting will be over. Be patient.'

  'Sam?'

  He turned around to find Sandy Beech walking towards him. He smiled his friendliest human smile.

  'Sandy. I'm just checking everything is working as it should be.'

  'I would have called you or Mel Torville were it not.'

  Clifton said, 'I know.' He leaned forwards to whisper even though they were alone, at least when it came to the adults. 'I'll let you into a secret. I get a warm fuzzy feeling whenever I come in here. Two thousand babies. Well, soon to be babies. Does that sound strange?'

  Beech smiled back and said, 'Not at all. I feel like I'm their surrogate mother. Mind you, I'm glad we'll all be responsible for bringing them up.'

  'I'm sure they'll still be a handful. In less than a year their growth will be accelerated to normal and they will develop into healthy babies.'

  Beech looked into Clifton's eyes. 'Is it you?'

  Although she said no more than that, it was enough to make Clifton react and she knew she had guessed correctly.

  'Is it me what, Sandy?'

  By way of an answer, Beech said, 'We need to trust each other. We need each other.'

  He asked, 'And it is you?'

  Beech said, 'Go. You spending too much time in here will be suspicious. From now on, I will call you in here only if we experience technical problems.'

  'Then you will be our eyes and ears in here. I'll go now.' Clifton crossed the incubation section and paused at the door. 'We must trust each other.'

  'Then do as I say.'

  The door slid open and Clifton walked away.

  Chapter 70

  'I thought she was making a recovery,' said President Sol Maxim.

  Doctor Erika Stein, headquarters head of the hospital facility had summoned Maxim to her medical unit.

  'Commander General Loretti has succumbed to an infection. The antibiotics were ineffective.'

  'No hope for her?' Maxim asked.

  'Minuscule at best. Highly unlikely, but miracles have been known to happen. She's thinking her time has come, which is why she called for you.'

  'Is she still conscious?'

  'Yes. She drifts in and out but she's lucid at the moment. Go on in.'

  Maxim entered the single recovery room. Loretti was hooked up to
the machines and a drip, but she looked a pale effigy of her normal feisty self. He went to her side and she looked up at him. He sat and held her hand.

  'You're a fighter, Trish. This is just one more fight.'

  'No, Sol. Not this time. I've no fight left in me. Don't worry. You are not here to hear my confession. I'd need to live to a very old age to confess everything.'

  Sol said, 'You just wanted somebody you knew by your side at this time. I'm here now.'

  'I'm dying. I don't care if I'm alone or not when that happens. I called you here to tell you something important, something I held back from you for my own political ambitions. I now pass that information on to you.'

  Sol said, 'I always knew you wished to usurp me one day. To be fair, you would have always made a great leader. You are much stronger than I ever could be.'

  'I'll not disagree. I was poised to take over, but not in the way you think. The mission is...'

  'The Goliath?'

  Loretti said, 'Yes. Sometime ago, during the peace, I was at the Base making sure that Gunther was doing his job correctly. Like most men he is barely able to look after himself, let alone something as important as the mission.'

  'Most of us are pretty useless,' agreed Maxim. 'Go on.'

  'While I was there, we were getting radio signals from space on the Goliath's frequency. As you know, that frequency is specifically for communication between Earth and the Goliath. It was designed so that it could not be intercepted by our enemy. At that time we humoured them by having a token amount of their technicians in the Base working alongside us. Naturally we didn't let them loose on anything of a sensitive nature. Of course they questioned the ability of the unit to keep out anyone else from listening in, suspicious as to why we designed it that way.'

  'What did you tell them?'

  Loretti said, 'Just some technical crap. I doubted they believed it. Anyway. These signals were dismissed as old radio signals from our own space exploration days bouncing around which had somehow interfered with the main Earth Goliath signals. Efforts were made to filter them out with only partial success. Everyone ignored them.'