Extinction (Extraterrestrial Empire Book 1)

by Tony Teora

  “And it worked?” asked the captain.

  “That’s how Ivan got the spy robot to enter the enemy lines. He did a pretty good job, except for a tech issue, sir,” continued Ace.

  “What kind of issue, Major?”

  “I’d rather not talk about that, sir. But let’s just say robot lover boy was like a dog in heat when the chips malfunctioned.”

  Karr, Ace, and the others laughed. “I agree, Major, I don’t think I wanna know.”

  Ace continued, explaining how some of their plans didn’t work out, the fishy smell of the burnt-out robots, even the issues with Tucker and the crazed barber. Even though the three men knew their moments alive might be short, they laughed on deck as if they’d live forever. Life, even shortened to minutes, was worth living with some fun. Taking life too seriously is a fallacy, thought Ace, because as many had said through the ages, the irony of life is that none of us will get out of it alive, so have fun while living.

  “So, Captain, I want warn the kitchen, if we ever make it outta of here—if I ever see squid or sardines at the chow line, I’m having Ivan shoot the cook,” said Archer, holding his nose.

  “The smell was that bad, huh, Major?

  “I hate the smell of burnt sardines, sir.”

  The astrogator interrupted. “They’re firing cannons!”

  Karr, Ace, and the others on the bridge anxiously looked at the viewscreen. Asteroids blocking the rays turned the blasts into a fireworks display. Luckily, nothing hit the Aurora and the beam stopped.

  “The bastards won’t stop ’til they’re all dead,” said Ace.

  “Are we ready for the quantum jump, astrogator?” asked Karr.

  “We are dropping shields now, quantum jump in ten, nine, eight …”

  At seven seconds, another laser blast ripped through asteroids, slicing some in half. A thousand-meter asteroid, the last protecting the Aurora, looked like it too was going to slice in half, and then there was a bright flash of light. Ace initially thought the laser had ripped through, but it was the Aurora entering a quantum jump. His heart slowed. They were on their way home.

  “We did it, sir, we jumped,” said the astrogator, with a drop of sweat running down his forehead.

  Everyone smiled. But that moment of relief was short-lived. A red warning light was activated and a beeping alarm sounded. Everyone looked at the aft viewscreen. Slowly, but surely, a large saucer craft with spires and crystalline structures appeared. The command comm had a paging sound.

  “Sir,” said Brassfield, there’s a person called ‘Darva’ that wants to be patched into the bridge. He said he’s the leader of the robots and manning the saucer. What should I do, sir?”

  ***

  “Engineering, I want the Aurora to jump to max-speed on my orders, but hold for now.”

  “Sir, but we can only maintain max-quantum for fifteen minutes. Then the engines will overheat and do an auto-shut-down.”

  “Just get them ready for my command.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Comm, go ahead and patch in this ‘Darva’,” ordered Karr.

  “Patching now.”

  The front viewscreen displayed an image of a mechanical head and a multitude of robotic arms. “Darva” was sitting in a darkened room filled with red, blue, and green LEDs. This was not the usual robot wok-head design, but more of a bug-like, mechanical device. The sensors glowed a dim red color, which reflected off a black, shiny, maybe even sweaty, skin. Two silver rods stuck out of its face like praying mantis antennas. Karr thought the head looked like that of a mechanical grasshopper with Dumbo ears, or sensors.

  On the “face” were two large, slightly bulging, oval black eyes that seemed to stare darkly into nothingness. The head was mostly a shiny black, unlike the shiny silver-looking robots. What bothered Karr was that this robot had about ten long spider-like arms that moved around, adjusting knobs and dials on its body and in the room. Forget the grasshopper. It was more like a robot spider.

  The alien robot spoke in a metallic voice, its eyes glowing red like burning coals: “I am Darva, Owner of Worlds, Speaker of Worlds, Master of Worlds.”

  There was a pause, and Karr wasn’t sure if this was his cue to speak, but he decided to wait. He wanted to waste time and hence give engineering valuable extra seconds to get the engines ready for max-quantum.

  Darva continued, “You have attacked our species. We must remove the threat.”

  Karr replied, “Our people only meant to test a virus, to find a way to protect us from a telepathic species. We didn’t know the virus was an intelligent species.”

  “Your visit was an invasion, a survey, a beginning to an end. An end your people use to expand your species. It is normal for a species to expand, and we thank you for the opportunity of finding for us such lovely biological creatures.”

  “Our people are curious. We were only trying to learn about the Universe, that’s all.”

  “Just like you learned about your New World when you discovered your old America? I have downloaded your history—thanks to a friend sitting nearby. Your world expands and conquers those who are weak, just like any dominant species should.”

  Karr wasn’t sure who the “friend” was, but that part of American history was something he didn’t want to get into. “As our species grew, we changed our bad ways. The Indians are friends now and we gave them new land, and money. They now live well. We are only sincerely interested in worlds we could colonize, one’s that are not taken. We would never have considered colonizing your world. We don’t even know where it is … we—” Karr stopped speaking, knowing his poorly chosen words were not helping.

  “You would not colonize us because we are strong. If we were weak, and you desired our world, we would expect you to take it by force. But my goal here is to work efficiently. I have a proposal to make.”

  “A proposal?”

  “Yes. I will agree to not destroying your ship and killing your crew if you agree to a 90 percent transfer of your people. We will stay on your Earth until we finish processing. Your world should supply at least one thousand homes that we will transport once work is completed.”

  Karr was confused. “What do you mean by a transfer? Do you mean we give up 90 percent of the people on our ship to you? As hostages?”

  “No, the people would be processed as part of our bio-food. Our species is one-fourth biological and three-fourths process-logical. We require bio sustenance for our organic components, and your blood carries nutrients that satisfy our requirements.”

  “There’s no way we’re handing over 90 percent of the ship for your food stock!”

  “Actually, I was asking for 90 percent of your Earth’s population. We would then move on, to leave your planet for some period of time, until your population grew back.”

  Karr hoped the max-quantum was ready. He looked over at the astrogator and got the nod. “Max speed, now!” he ordered.

  The Aurora shook slightly, but for the most part, the speed increase was unnoticed except for the starlight trails that seemed to expand in length. The time dilation was affecting the visual acuity.

  “Is the saucer matching speed?” asked Karr.

  “No, sir, it hasn’t changed speed.”

  “Good. I want the executive team to the captain’s chambers. We have maybe ten minutes before we have to slow down.”

  ***

  Kiya explained her analysis. “Sir, a dying EBE-C3 I called ‘Ora’ told me during a telepathic link that this ‘Darva’ species is viral in nature. They evolved as part robot and part biological. They store genetic memory of their society as a backup in a DNA cube. If you wipe these physical aliens out in a war, the virus gets blown away on asteroids, space dust, et cetera, and it infects living tissue on habitable planets. The virus can hibernate for millions of years.

  “Once activated, it takes over other life forms, transforms the brain of the host, and then uses other lower life forms as slave labor and food. They then progress and evolve, bu
ilding more and more complicated machinery, like this saucer. According to Ora, they want to build some kind of Galactic device for reasons unknown.

  “They typically make deals with semi-intelligent, rapidly growing species, like humans, by selling them technology in return for underground bases and a food supply. They grow carbon-based biological units, such as humans, or cows, or whatever, as food. They eventually take 90 percent of their crops—that is, 90 percent of the populace—once they have completed their planetary control. Only the remaining chosen 10 percent are allowed any real planetary resources or power—but they’ve sold out. The others are alien food. Dream World and GEN-6 got infected by this virus. It’s too dangerous to bring back. We should blow up that ship.”

  “Races selling out. We won’t do that,” said Karr.

  “Ora said many species don’t have a choice,” continued Kiya. “He told me that a race similar to humans, the intelligent Worra, were being abducted and studied, and that the Worra military couldn’t stop it. They felt that if they didn’t do a deal, the Darva would start a war—one they felt they couldn’t win. So they sold out. If we can’t destroy this race, Ora said hiding is our only choice.”

  “I’m not selling out our own people to buy time,” said Karr.

  “I hate to say it, sir,” said Ace. “But I wouldn’t trust our government with the same situation.”

  “Well, that’s good enough reason to take them out now. Because they obviously have coordinates to Earth. I would like—”

  The room’s sound system interrupted. “Warning. Warning. Engine overload in thirty seconds. Max quantum disengaging.”

  “Shit,” said Karr. They didn’t even get the ten minutes he had hoped for. This wasn’t good.

  Poker is not a game of cards played with other people, it is a game of people played with cards.

  – Anonymous

  25

  _________

  The Cards We’re Dealt …

  Back on the bridge … Ace, Ivan, and Captain Karr, watching the viewscreen …

  Captain Karr anxiously eyed the approaching craft. The black spaceship looked like a shark swimming in the cold, black depths of space. The yellow-green hue produced psychedelic trails of lights as it sped up in the wormhole, warping the original saucer shape. Karr patched into the engine room. “Can we increase the wormhole envelope? We need more speed.”

  Sparky from Engineering frantically adjusted high-energy field streams, but the system automatically adjusted back, reducing power. He wiped sweat from his brow. “Sir, I know they’re closing, but we can’t take the risk of increasing the quantum wormhole. The override’s calculating a catastrophic overload.”

  We might need to do exactly that, thought Karr soberly. “Sparky, put everything on shields, drop out of quantum.”

  The Aurora stopped dead. It was the only way to bring up the shields, plus, there was no way to outrun the saucer. The black, fluorescent ship approached.

  “Darva is online again. Should I patch him?” asked communications.

  “Sure,” said Karr, miserably.

  The black robot appeared. His electronic eyes glowed like hot coals in a stove. His voice was deep and vibrated like a broken sub-woofer speaker. “I assume you needed some private time … to evaluate an important decision for you and your world.”

  “I am not the ruler of my world, just a captain of one of our ships.”

  “Data on your species indicates your planet has many diverse hierarchical rulers. I have chosen you to represent your world. You will negotiate a planetary surrender once we reach Earth.”

  “I seriously doubt the rulers of Earth would accept such a deal—we cherish life, not slavery.”

  Darva’s metallic spider body vibrated, as if gyros and cables tensed for a fight. His biotechnical body did a final system check of all nano-circuitry and then simultaneously stopped all six arms. The red glowing eyes pulsed intently. “Your people are merely resources for your world leaders. Why should it be different that for us you are a food source? Your mind’s ill-constructed illusion of humanity’s position in the galaxy is disappointing. You and your people not only accept untruths from your masters, but you embrace them to your death.

  “To dispose of 90 percent of your poor and hungry—is that not what you call mercy? Your world is over 99 percent poor and hungry. We will balance your species. Submit or have your ship destroyed. If you reject our offer, we will arrive without you and find another willing leader on Earth.”

  “You know nothing of our people, or this ship—we can defend ourselves.”

  “Really?” said Darva. He pointed three spider-like arms and the saucer ship’s video link slowly panned toward a corner of the room. There rested Captain Demian Vilante—or actually, just the head of Captain Demian Vilante, connected to a green hose and cables. He could not talk but tried to speak. It looked like he was trying to say: Kill Me, Kill Us!

  Ivan, who’d been chewing an empty bullet casing, crushed a tooth and spat out a fragment.

  Darva continued. “Your other captain was kind enough to allow me into his brain. I know all about your ship and its capabilities. Your ship and your world are defenseless against our technologies. Although I do have to give your bio unit, Ace Archer, some creative credit with the mechanical spy he sent me.”

  Karr looked over to Ace.

  Ace replied, “Ivan programmed the tin man to go to the reactor core, sir.”

  Ivan looked over, patting his teddy bear. “Yogi told me to give Darva tin man … present for peace.”

  Darva pointed to the left side; the robot spy was now standing next to him, shackled to a wall in a clamp-like device. “We discovered your plan to try to overload our power system. We captured this defiled robot trying to reprogram our system. Your creativity is noted, but your race is soft, which will make it easy to control.”

  The alien used its spider arms to adjust a holo display of the Aurora. Red lights slowly dotted the ship, targeting various critical components. Darva was getting ready to blast the Aurora into pieces, and captain Karr knew there was little he could do to prevent it.

  Darva continued. “So, will you assist? Or should I proceed to Earth after destroying your ship? You have one minute to decide. I will wait.”

  Karr looked over to Ace and his XO. “Let’s self-destruct with the mini anti-matter pod. It’s better than giving up the crew.”

  “I’m really sorry, sir,” said Ace, though the grin he was trying to repress showed he wasn’t sorry at all. “I know it’s a court martial offence. But I took the last mini anti-matter bomb down to the planet. Thought we’d need it as a backup.”

  “What! Ace, we needed that for the self-destruct! What the hell?”

  “Time’s up,” said Darva.

  “Ah, sir,” said Ace. “May I please speak to Darva directly?” He pulled a cigar out of his pocket and put it in his mouth. He chomped down to hide his smile.

  “Sure,” said Karr, needing time to coordinate another self-destruct. He secretly texted a coded message to engineering to overload the engines. It might not take out the alien ship, but it was worth a try. Ace was giving him some time. But it would take up to five long minutes to overload.

  “Thank you, sir.” Ace pulled the unlit cigar from his mouth, looking at Darva and the chained master robot. “Now, ah, Mr. Darva, as a military man, I can see your position. And you’re right that we may not be exactly the nicest species in the world. I have to admit, I’m not the best example.”

  “No, you’re not,” said Ivan. “But Yogi still likes you.”

  Karr and Ace looked over at Ivan, who was using his combat knife to clean out his broken tooth.

  Ace continued. “And I also have to admit, we don’t have much of a choice in the negotiation of your deal. You surprised me by capturing our spy, Mr. Tin Man, and I’d like to apologize to him to by saying Mr. Tin Man, the clock starts now.”

  “Clock good present,” said Ivan to Yogi. “Peace time clock.”


  Darva ignored Ivan. “So you, Mr. Archer, do you accept our deal? You will be what your people call a hero, Ace Archer. Your people will die for their countries and finally it will have meaning, because 10 percent will survive—a good deal, if I do say so.”

  Darva didn’t notice, but Mr. Tin Man’s eyes had lit up and a red clock had started to count down on his chest. It counted ten seconds, then nine, then …

  Ace continued while chewing his cigar. “A great human man once said that: ‘The object of war is not to die for your country but to make the other bastard die for his.’ And with that said, I’d like to inform you and my captain that Ivan and Yogi sent you aliens a little present from Earth over there with Mr. Tin Man.”

  “A present?” asked the alien, soberly.

  Ivan held his teddy bear, Yogi, and smiled. “Say ‘bye-bye’ to Mr. Spider Robot.”

  Ace continued. “Yes, in Brooklyn, where I come from, it’s called a suitcase anti-matter bomb. It was our auto-destruct, but Ivan put it in the torso of Mr. Tin Man without anyone knowing the plan. As you can see, there’s a little clock on the chest of Tin Man. I consider it a symbol of the most important thing about life—it’s called time. And your time, alien asshole, has run out! Sayonara, shit head!”

  The alien Darva turned his head to look at the clock, then two spider hands nervously grabbed at the master robot, then three arms, then four. As the clock went to zero, the spy robot said, “Oh baby, I love you … ecchi, ecchi, ecchi … sexy time!”

  “No!” screamed Darva, the transmission breaking into radio static. In the distance, the saucer ship exploded from the middle, and then there were secondary explosions as the saucer blasted into a fireworks display.

  Karr looked over at Ace and smirked. “Ace, I didn’t know you spoke Japanese.”

  Ace laughed. “I was stationed in Yokosuka, Japan for a while. A couple of girls taught me some words, sir.”