“I’m sorry, Jacob, I’m a bit foggy. How does that help us?” His brain was struggling to make sense of a few random flashes from his dreams.
“I can build a replacement. All I need is a hardware store.”
The colonel sat up, yawning huge. His lips smacked a few times while squirming to a more conventional sitting position. “What time is it?” he asked.
“Bout six,” said the driver. “We’re just coming into Albuquerque. Want me to stop?”
He mashed the button again. “Jacob. You’re telling me that you can build some alien technology with stuff you’ll find at a hardware store?”
“All I need are the florescent tubes. Everything else we can fabricate right here. It won’t be as pretty or convenient as the alien lightning tube, but it should work. Most of their tech has adaptive circuitry that gives itself over to improvised parts.”
“Alright, alright. But just get in and out, and don’t talk to anyone while you’re in there. Don’t touch anyone either. Every person you see could be carrying the virus.”
“Got it, sir.”
“Where the hell are we?”
“We’re just outside of town,” said the driver. “I think I know a place that’ll have what he needs. I drive through here a lot.”
“No, what’s this road?”
“It’s smoother than the back roads, and there aren’t any weigh stations.”
He hammered the button again. “Jacob. We’re going to stop for you. And I’m going to come with you. If shit hits the fan, we’ll be shooting our way out. You still have the nine millimeter that we issued you?”
“I do, sir.”
“Alright. We’ll see if all those video games you play helped your aim.”
He turned to the driver. “You got any coffee?”
“Machine is behind your seat. If you’re making a pot, get me a cup too.”
“Sure thing.”
Ryan press-checked his Sig P220. The backup mag was full and on his belt, the chamber loaded. He hoped to hell he wouldn’t need it. A casual stroll through the hardware section could quickly degenerate into a war zone, and after driving all day, he was dog tired. There were five trucks in the convoy, and he hoped that they wouldn’t attract too much attention parked at the rear of the lot.
He hopped down from the cab. Jacob was bouncing in the cold night air, with clouds streaming from his face. “Not supposed to get this cold in the desert,” he said.
“Oh, you’d be amazed how cold it can get. You never left the compound to walk about and stretch your legs?”
“Not at night.”
The parking lot was lit up like a circus arena. The big eighteen-wheelers stood out at the back of a sea of compacts and SUVs. Everyone and their brother must have been buying goods for renovation projects.
“Locked and loaded?” asked the colonel.
“As ready as I can be. I won’t be long, just need to add a few light bulbs.”
The two of them started across the striped asphalt. “I thought the thing only had one tube poking out of the top.”
“Alien tech versus what I can build in the back of a truck. When I got that plastic thing apart I noticed something very odd about it. I mean, small antennas work wonders, but I was convinced that they were using some kind of different tech. Radio waves might be a human thing. I can’t think of anything different, but that doesn’t mean they haven’t thought of something. Anyway. We started picking up a signal from the device, in the millimeter range. Putting power out on those frequencies required focused antennas, otherwise they decay quickly for long-range transmissions. The easiest way to do that in a small package is with plasma antennas.”
They approached the large glass sliding doors. “So you need multiple tubes to focus the beam?”
“I need multiple tubes because one florescent light is going to be horribly inefficient. I don’t have the means to manufacture and scale down what I need. I’m not sure I could match the alien tech if I wanted to. I’ll make up for it with a bulky setup. It should still work. But yes, also to focus the beam.”
“Okay, well. We’re in. Just get what you need and let’s get the hell out of here. Being around all these people gives me the creeps.”
Jacob took the lead, marching straight toward a hallway of overhead fans and fancy light fixtures. The colonel became a shopping cart as Jacob stacked bulbs in his arms.
“Jesus. How many do you need?”
“You want the thing to work or not?”
The people patrolling the store appeared human enough. They were making small talk about colors and wattage. One lady’s head was buried in paint swipes. Conversations floated through the aisles that would normally trip his terrorist beacon. People talking about fortification. Giant push carts ran this way and that, loaded down with fertilizer and bags of cement.
“Alright, that should work,” said Jacob. “Let’s get out of here.”
The colonel breathed a sigh of relief when they got back to the trucks. The store accepted Bitcoin, and he used the app on his phone to access the secret account. Untraceable, even to his new friends at the NSA. After passing the bulbs up to the engineering crew in the mobile engineering lab, he paid a visit to Dr. Savage’s bio truck.
“Colonel. Is there a problem?”
“No problem. Just want to see what progress you’re making.”
She hung her head. The black ponytail draped over a shoulder, and her eyes dropped shut. “I’m not sure I’m going to be able to figure this out. I’m trying multiple poisons against the viral samples, but it’s a resistant bug. The dosage required would kill a person. Nothing like pumping a pint of bleach into someone’s veins to take out a virus.”
“Well, keep working. Jacob might be able to activate these soon. The infection might be more susceptible with remote programming activating it. Don’t throw any ideas out until we get a chance to test them on active virus. There enough mice left?”
She smiled as her head jerked back. “Hundreds of them. Once Jacob has the transmitter, we can inject a couple and see if they start to necrotize or not. I’ll need at least eight hours to make certain his transmitter is inhibiting the decay process. If their hair doesn’t drop out by then, it’ll prove your theory right.”
“We might not have eight hours by the time he gets done.”
She nodded. “I can try a couple of the viral samples before that, but I don’t want to kill all my mice before I know if his machine is working or not.”
“Understood. When’s the last time you slept?”
She glanced up. The wrinkles of despair vanished into her tight bronze skin. “It’s been a while.”
“Well, get a nap. I’ll get you up once Jacob is ready.”
She reached out to take his hand. “Thank you colonel. For everything. Without you, those squiddies wouldn’t have anybody to intercept them.”
“Let’s not celebrate yet. We still have a long way to go. And there’s no telling what other tricks they’re hiding under their slimy skins. Speaking of. Where are the aliens?”
“I terminated them when we evacuated.”
“What about Rick?”
She frowned. “John and I both agreed that there was no way to save him. I gave him a few moments to say goodbye, and then Jennifer injected him with something to put him down with as little pain as possible.” A tear welled at the lower lid of her right eye. “There was nothing we could do to save him.”
“It’s alright, doctor. Get some sleep. You have people to cover the testing for a few hours.”
Colonel Ryan Crisp shook awake from what must have been a man-sized pothole in the dusty lane. In the distance, the eerie glow of the Amarillo skyline glimmered on the horizon. It had to be Amarillo. On a night like this, few things could be creepier than driving straight into the clutches of the alien menace. He hoped that his government contacts hadn’t been found out, or more, that the whole thing wasn’t a ruse staged to ensnare his team. There was still one backup plan available
, but it wasn’t going to count for much unless they succeeded here.
“That’s it?” he asked.
“That’s it.” said the driver.
Ryan flipped on the radio and scanned through the local channels until reaching a nationwide broadcast.
“. . .and all out war has broken out in downtown LA. Protesters against police and warmongering terrorists calling themselves the Patriot Party. The rise of terrorism in the United States is escalating out of control, as the same people responsible for the city bombings have struck again, this time on the streets. The president has declared a state of national emergency, and deployed military guards in several major US cities. A few outstanding opponents claim that the implementation of martial law violates civil rights, but nearly everyone else has sided with the president on this one, for the first time in his bumpy political career. Everyone seems to agree that the terrorists need to be put down before the aliens decide to leave the Earth for dead, or possibly intervene with their own measures and policies. More after this.”
“Hard to believe, isn’t it sir.”
“Not as hard as you think. This kind of shit happens all the time, it’s just in our face now.”
“You sure the aliens are the ones we should be fighting?”
Colonel crisp glared across the cab of the big rig. “Don’t tell me that you’re becoming a sympathizer too.”
“Me?” He shook his head. “Not for a second, but I wonder if maybe it’s the shit-disturbing babies that need a couple of knots on their soft skulls that we should be worried about. They run around shouting and stirring up trouble, and then call everyone else a terrorist.
The colonel couldn’t disagree, but he couldn’t agree either. He had run enough propaganda campaigns himself to know there was no truth to be found in any of it. Haters on both sides followed the respective campaigns like cattle, all of them unaware that they were merely chasing cheese on a string. There were a few valid points on either side, mixed with a whole lot of garbage. The modern political climate was perfect for an alien attack.
He amused himself through the commercials with the thought that aliens didn’t need a virus. They didn’t need attack ships. They didn’t even need to start bombing cities or fighting anyone. All they really had to do was show up and announce themselves, and the human race would rip itself apart instinctively. Maybe John was right. Everything to this point, from the base raid to the virus-carrying snakes, to the corruption of world governments and zombie-humans, was nothing but a smoke screen. People were far better at inciting unrest than any alien could ever hope to be.
The voice of the radio personality cut back in. “We’ve just received word that war has taken to the street in New York City, and if you think this is only an American problem, Berlin and Tokyo are experiencing similar problems. The aliens, in their last transmission, claimed to help human beings put a stop to all war and disease. I wonder what the response is going to be to these disasters. The president announced that he is discussing options with the aliens, and some kind of intervention is expected, but nobody knows what it will look like.”
Crisp punched the power button on the radio. “Their help is going to be to infect the cities and turn human beings into slaves. Once they do, this moron is going to be announcing that they talked people into getting along, and I’m sure the zombies will be spouting the same. This is how it goes down. Our final hour. First the remaining cities, and then the world. They planned this. They planned the riots. They probably stage managed the whole goddamn thing.” Better than I ever could have.
He spotted the giant building to the left side of the road where the guys from the NSA told him to meet. “There it is. Get us in there. And grab your rifle. Anything goes banana-shaped, just start shooting and get the hell out of here.”
“And go where?”
“Back to command.”
“We’re going to lose, aren’t we sir?”
“I don’t know goddamn it, but whatever we do, it needs to be fast. We’re running out of time.”
“Till what?”
The colonel winked. “Checkmate.”
The colonel hopped down from the cab as the huge doors of the aircraft-sized hangar slid open under motor power. Flashlight wielding ground crews signaled the trucks inside. He approached cautiously, with his hand on the grip of the Sig
“Where’s David?” he called out.
“He’s inside sir. We just got him up,” said one of the ground crew guys. “He should be out in a minute.”
Nicole Savage and Jennifer Reyes approached with armfuls of testing equipment.
“What’s this?” asked the ground crew guy.
“Making sure that we can still trust you, and your little bunker hasn’t been overrun.”
“We get tested on twelve hour intervals for the virus, sir.”
“Good, then you won’t mind another one. Hold out your arm.”
“Sir—”
“Do as he says,” said David’s voice. “The colonel here is just covering his ass, and I can’t say I blame him.” His eyes turned to Crisp. “Of course, we’re going to be vetting your crew the same way.”
“Of course.” The colonel nodded. “But you first.”
Savage held the bag while Reyes scooped a handful of tiny clear plastic rectangles from it. “It’ll just be a prick,” she said. She proceeded to stick each of the flashlight holders, and then the NSA representative.
“How long is this going to take?” asked David, rubbing the puncture wound on his fingertip. “Best not to leave your trucks in the open where they can be spotted.”
“They’ve got the procedure down pretty well now. With their new toy, Dr. Savage can spot the virus in any iteration. She’s been doing DNA tests for months, and made something of an art out of it. What do you think, Nicole? Ten minutes?”
“Thirty at least. You don’t want me to get the whole base?”
“We’ll start with these three. That should tell us what we need to know. Then you can collaborate with their doctors for whatever else you need.”
“I’ll get right on it, colonel.”
The girls marched toward the lab truck. The colonel glanced at the moonlight cutting through the fog. “No cover of darkness tonight.”
“That’s why we need to get your vehicles inside as fast as possible. If the locals find out what you’re doing here, they’re going to come around asking questions. Something we don’t need until we’re ready to deploy. Did your little trick work?”
“That’s what we’re going to find out. They tell me the tests will take up to eight hours to confirm.”
“Well.” David’s head was in a perpetual disappointed shake. “We waited this long. Lucky for us the rioting hasn’t hit the streets here. But by first light, the whole town will probably be converted. My staff has come up with something you need to see. If you’ll take a vote of confidence.”
“No problem. My people know what to do, and they’re more than ready on the off chance that you double cross us.”
“Then let’s get down to the lab. This won’t wait.”
After crossing the large bay and entering the building substructure by staircase, Colonel Crisp’s attention began to waiver. He tried to calculate how many hours of sleep he had actually gotten over the last few days. His muscles were nearing shutdown. They would need to get this all done tonight, or there wouldn’t be another chance. He was certain of it.
Even after the trucks entered the bay, Nicole Savage insisted on testing every single member of the secret government force before she would let anyone out of her lab. Jacob Swan, on the other hand, was so happy with his latest invention that he couldn’t wait to show it off to the world.
“It looks like a bunch of florescent lamps bolted to a pizza pan,” said the colonel. He couldn’t help but note the direct correlation between the new device and a Gatling gun. On top of the alien device sat a metal tray, and sticking vertically out of it, two concentric rings of the hardware-store light
bulbs, each with a wire running down from the top. When plugged into the device, and the machine itself powered up, they glowed brightly enough to light up the whole bay, and then some.
Jennifer Reyes examined the alien symbols displayed on top of the cylinder, annoyed by the fact that with the antenna in her way. She needed a makeup mirror to see under the plate. “You couldn’t have made it a little taller?”
“I’m sorry, I needed something that would work.”
“Can you make it taller now?”
“With the voltage level coming out of the sphere, that would just be asking for the base of the antenna to explode in a shower of sparks and mercury vapor.”
“Engineers,” she muttered.
The colonel’s lower lip was clutched between his thumb and forefinger, being stretched slightly before releasing with an inaudible pop before the cycle repeated. Something was coming, and he knew time was limited.
“What do you think?” asked David, the NSA team leader.
“I think we’re screwed. But I have a solution to your little problem. I already made the call. Everything is set. We launch in three hours.”
“Launch what?” asked Jacob, looking up from the device.
“Go get some infected mice from Nicole.”
“Wow, it’s Nicole now. Not Savage, or the doctor. You going to start calling her Nicky soon?”
His face warmed. “Jacob, the rats.”
“Yes sir.”
Watching him run was like looking at the kids that didn’t make the cut for the Special Olympics. It was no secret that he wasn’t light on his feet, but he bounced and swayed in the most peculiar manner. He ran from his heels rather than the balls of his feet.
Invasion Page 6