Alien Apocalypse: The Complete Series (Parts I-IV)

by JC Andrijeski

  “Recreational matches...” Jet's mind whirled around his words, unable to make sense of them at first. Then her mouth firmed into a line. “...You mean the Rings?” she asked, again hearing the incredulousness in her voice. “You want me to fight in the Rings?”

  “Yes,” he said, smiling.

  “But I thought that was mainly animals...and, well...men,” she said. “...Big men.”

  “That is the norm, true. But lately, there's been an interest in seeing some of the older human fighting styles. And...” He smiled at her again. “...Somewhat more exotic warriors thrown into the mix. You will fit both of those criteria quite nicely, Jet.”

  “You want me to fight in the Rings?” she repeated dully. Her mind still couldn't quite wrap around that fact. “So you do intend to kill me.”

  Folding his arms, he gave her another wry smile. “You have so little confidence in your abilities, then?”

  “No,” she retorted. “But I'm not stupid! Sooner or later, everyone slips. Everyone meets an opponent better than them....or has a bad day.”

  “True,” he said, smiling. His eyes remained on hers, thoughtful.

  “Everyone dies in the Rings...”

  “Only occasionally,” he said, holding up his hand once more. “It doesn't have to be that way, Jet. I wouldn't get too worked up until you know a little more about how they work...and what our hosts desire in terms of their contestants.”

  Jet didn't answer, staring at the bulkhead without seeing it. She'd known she would die, if they ever captured her. Somehow the idea of doing it on stage, in front of thousands, maybe tens of thousands...or even millions of watching Nirreth, made the whole concept a little surreal. She knew the settlement sometimes picked up those broadcasts on stolen and rebuilt receivers and even monitors. Those stolen broadcasts were the only reason Jet even knew of the Ring matches at all. The idea of her mother and brother and her friends watching her die in the Rings from their scratched monitors in the longhouse made Jet feel a little queasy. They didn't normally watch the transmissions, it was true, but the settlement was small. The longhouse itself was even smaller. If someone saw her on there, they'd run straight to her family, first thing. They would assume Jet's mother would want to know.

  “Don't worry, Jet,” Richter repeated. “You won't be fighting all the time. And we'll need to build up your reputation first...”

  “Meaning what?”

  “Meaning I'm going to try and line you up for a protective detail with one of the top families. They usually hire Nirreth for that kind of work, but I know of at least two that would prefer humans...for status purposes.” Richter smiled when Jet winced at that. “The fact that you're young and female will make it an easier sell...a lot easier, in fact.”

  Jet felt her jaw harden back to stone. “What makes you think I'll protect a lizard skin?”

  Richter rolled his eyes, laying his thick arms down on the table and leaning towards her.

  “Have you seen the Green Zones before, Jet? Even on the broadcasts?”

  Him using her given name bothered Jet for some reason. Still, lying about this struck her as pointless, too. Biting her lip, she shook her head.

  Richter smirked knowingly. “Then all I can assure you is...you're being ridiculous. You will protect him. You'll do whatever they tell you to do. If you don't do it willingly, they'll assign you a Nirreth who'll sting you frequently to ensure you comply with their wishes...and probably take you as a lover in the bargain. You'll learn to like it, Jet...trust me on this. There's a reason none of the humans in the Green Zones ever try to run away.”

  Jet felt herself pale. Again, she couldn't stop the reaction in her body and skin, couldn't even pretend his words hadn't affected her. Her mind whirled around them, processing them as fast as she could, trying to decide if he could be telling the truth. Along with everyone else, Jet assumed the reason no one came back after a culling ship got them was that they were dead. Either they were dead right away, or they were dead once they reached the Green Zone. They were eaten, or thrown out of a moving culler ship...or they ended up in one of the Nirreth's vivisection labs.

  But according to Richter, there were living humans there, in the Green Zone, and if Richter wasn't lying, they weren't even trying to run away.

  Was it possible? Could that be the real reason that no one ever came back from a Green Zone? Did they never return not because they were slaughtered and experimented on, but because they learned to prefer it?

  Jet would have assumed it was all a lie, if she hadn't just come down off the effects of her first sting from a lizard-skin tail.

  Averting her gaze, she managed to strip the emotion from her words when she spoke again.

  “Why would they want a human as protector? Why would they want anyone they have to guard or manipulate as a protector?” she said. “What's the point?”

  “I told you,” Richter said patiently. “It's partly status for them...the idea of a trained mammal...” He gave her a slightly apologetic look, as if he somehow didn't include himself in that designation. “...The idea of a mammal docile enough to look over their offspring, and loyal to one of their high families, is very appealing to them.” Richter grinned at her, his white teeth flashing in the odd lighting of the room. “...They like to think of themselves as benign dictators. As raising the cultural and intellectual level of the mammals to a higher level...”

  Jet just stared at him.

  “I told you,” Richter said, his voice dropping to a more serious note. “Until you've been in a Green Zone, you don't know what you're dealing with in them. Trust me when I tell you, you don't know anything about the Nirreth, Jet. None of the skags do, not until they've been brought inside. When we get there, you'll see what I mean...”

  “Except you,” she said, her voice openly derisive. “None of the skags know anything about the Nirreth except you...isn't that what you meant, Richter?”

  “I'm not a skag,” he said, meeting her gaze with those coffee-colored eyes. When she didn't back down, or lower her own gaze, he eventually averted his. Shaking his head, he smiled again faintly. “...Anyway,” he said. “You should be thanking me.”

  “Thanking you?” Jet couldn't keep the anger out of her voice.

  “Yes,” Richter said, smiling wider. “Laksri already asked if he could have you. He wanted to keep you in his own quarters until you'd been processed...even before he stung you.”

  Jet grimaced, unable to help it.

  Richter's smile widened still more. “How long do you think it would take me to sell you to one of them, if I went through the usual Green Zone markets?” he teased, winking at her. “You're a catch, Jet Tetsuo, make no mistake about that. The Nirreth are fascinated by humans. Especially the young, pretty females...even the young, pretty females who don't try to hack them up with an authentic-looking Samurai sword...”

  Jet felt her jaw harden again. She didn't trust herself to speak though, so she didn't answer him at first. Instead she turned her attention back to the soup, which had already cooled to lukewarm. She'd let the bastard distract her long enough to forget about it...no mean feat in and of itself. Taking another ladle-ful to her mouth, Jet chewed slowly and deliberately on another piece of chicken, savoring the flavor of the spices cooked into the meat.

  Richter watched her eat, his eyes thoughtful now, despite the smile that still played around his lips. Jet couldn't hold onto the silence, though, even while eating.

  “What about Anaze?” she said. “You said that 'it depends' when I asked you if you'd let him go. What does it depend on, exactly?”

  Richter smiled. “You are stubborn,” he smiled. “To remember Anaze at all, given what I just told you, is pretty impressive...”

  “What does it depend on?” she asked through gritted teeth.

  Richter shrugged, still watching her face. “I would have thought you would have guessed that by now,” he said. “Nirreth are happy enough to sting you, but they'd prefer to see you as willing...and you're m
ore highly functional that way, too.” His smile widened. “I planned on throwing Anaze in as a bonus present. As a means of controlling you. I see now that I wasn't too far off, thinking you might put his safety and comfort above your own...”

  Jet's hand gripped her spoon tightly enough to whiten her knuckles. She looked at Richter, again wanting to doubt his words, but unable to.

  “That's right,” he said, his voice carrying a faint steel that time. “You misbehave, and they won't take it out of their favorite little sword-wielding sociopath...they'll take it out on her little mammal boyfriend...” At her frozen look, his smile returned. “Over the years, the Nirreth have found that method to be much more effective, Jet. It tends to put a stop to a lot of the pointless back and forth posturing and rebellion. At least until you've finally been stung often enough to be compliant on your own. Or until you take on a more, well...personal protector among the Nirreth...” He winked again, smiling at her wickedly.

  Jet felt the sickness in her stomach worsen.

  Even so, she completed the motion of her hand, taking the soup ladle the rest of the way to her mouth. Swallowing thickly, she moved like an automaton as she filled it again, repeating the motion through sheer force of will. She no longer tasted the soup itself, but she would at least make sure she wasn't weak from hunger. She would need every ounce of strength she could summon, no matter where the ship landed next.

  Jet had more questions for him of course, but she didn't voice any of them. Instead, she decided to wait. Maybe until she could see or hear more on her own. Maybe until she could digest more of his answers.

  For now, she figured she'd heard about as much as she could take.

  Richter seemed to be okay with that arrangement, too.

  Neither of them broke the silence in the minutes that passed, apart from the clink of Jet's spoon at the bottom of the bowl as she continued to eat the lukewarm soup.

  Jet woke up in alarm. Someone had grabbed her shoulder.

  Worse than that, her hands were bound, her wrists chained together tightly and locked to a thick, metallic-looking ring that pulled her arms into rough angles over her head. Looking down the length of her body, Jet realized that her ankles were chained similarly, not giving her a lot of latitude to move around...or even to change position. Her lower leg had fallen asleep, so she shifted it without thought, and grimaced at the pain that arced up from her thigh through her back. There wasn't much she could do about the cramp in her shoulder and arms.

  The hand shook her again when Jet tried to close her eyes.

  Confused at first, she blinked up at the hand's owner, seeing the gold streak in his dark hair and the tattoos on his neck and upper chest before she could put a name to his face. As usual, he was grinning at her, as if amused by some private joke of his own that he refused to share. The room was dim, almost the light following twilight, after the sun had gone down.

  Jet's next thought was, that she couldn't believe she'd let herself fall asleep.

  She couldn't exactly remember making the decision, but apparently being immobilized on the wall bunk behind Richter's had been more than her worn out body could stay awake for. She remembered trying to get loose. She remembered giving up in exhaustion eventually, and after Richter chewed her out for making too much noise. She also remembered hearing Richter's breathing change, growing more and more heavy and even over a space of maybe five or ten minutes...right before he started snoring.

  After that, Jet didn't remember a whole lot else.

  Richter smiled down at her, again seeming almost like he'd been reading her thoughts in her facial expressions alone.

  “Sleep well, kitten?” he teased.

  Jet gave him a scathing look, but didn't avert her gaze.

  Still chuckling a little, he unlocked the bolt holding her chained wrists to the bulkhead. Jet's hands fell to the pillow by her head, and she lowered them in front of her, unable to suppress a sigh of relief. She was shifting to her back, if only to take the pressure off her shoulder, when Richter walked down to the bottom end of her bunk. He unlocked her ankles from the metal ring between her feet, the same as he had her wrists, only that time he unlocked the actual cuffs as well, removing them from her ankles entirely.

  The cuffs around her wrists he left in place.

  Jet sat up slowly, cautiously, rubbing her feet together and wincing as the circulation returned to her legs and arms. Still, she couldn't entirely suppress another long sigh of relief. She hated being trapped. She was okay being underground of course, so couldn't call herself a true claustrophobic...but she still had an issue with being trapped, especially in tight spaces. She'd had nightmares about that kind of thing ever since they'd had to resort to hiding underground to avoid the Nirreth and the raiders. The monsoon always made it worse for some reason, maybe because she couldn't escape the mold and the damp anymore than she could the mud.

  Again, Richter seemed to be studying her expressions, so Jet forced her thoughts to a low hum in the background of her mind. He was a little too good at reading her expressions, she'd noticed, so she had to get better about making them less transparent. Staring up at him, she kept her eyes carefully indifferent. This only seemed to make him smile wider.

  “We're here,” he said, still studying her face, that smile hovering on his lips.

  At his expression, Jet found herself fighting once more to keep the anger out of her voice and not really succeeding. “Here, where?” she said.

  “In the Green Zone.”

  Jet felt her breath catch a little.

  Instead of soup, he handed her a bar of compressed protein and some kind of shake. Both tasted a lot better than she would have guessed just by looking at them. The shake had a tangy fruit flavor that he told her was strawberry and something in it that woke her up after just a few sips. Jet had never had an actual strawberry before, so she couldn't compare in terms of tastes, but she downed the whole thing in a matter of minutes. The protein bar took longer, but that tasted better than any she'd had at the settlement, too.

  She'd given up on the idea of refusing food. Anyway, compared to what he'd outlined the day before, death by poison sounded like the least of her worries.

  Soon after she finished eating and he'd blown the metal juice container clean with the compressor, Jet found herself being shoved up the ladder, her hands still cuffed in front of her. Richter didn't bother to try and reason with her that time, but just pulled out a gun, and told her he'd shoot her in the foot and carry her the rest of the day if she didn't cooperate. From the look on his face, Jet found herself believing him...especially after he laughingly told her it wouldn't even harm her sale price. According to Richter, it was common practice among the Nirreth to “hobble” new humans they brought into the Green Zones. Since every new acquisition required a few months of training and education anyway, as part of the Nirreth's attempts to assimilate them and “raise their cultural sophistication,” it wouldn't even affect their overall usefulness.

  Jet didn't see Anaze until they were out of the ship. There, standing on the tarmac of the landing pad, he gazed at his feet, surrounded by three other Nirreth, his expression blank. Laksri remained by her and Richter, so these three, Jet didn't have names for. But it was hard to focus on Anaze, especially with the deadened look on his face.

  Anyway, there were so many other things that wanted to pull her eyes.

  The sky and mountain view around the landing pad looked like something from the old vids she'd seen of Earth before the invasion. No, before that, even...it looked more like the historical vids she'd seen, the ones that showed the world before the environmental disasters that started about a century before the Nirreth arrived.

  Tall, green-leafed trees swayed in a light breeze ringing the nearest of the buildings. Jet saw flowers in rich soil beds, with colors from purple to yellow to a deep scarlet, dotting the fields across from the buildings in a swaying mosaic. The sky overhead was a deep, fathomless blue, dotted with white clouds and larger than any
sky Jet had ever seen. The very blueness of it fascinated her, even without the sun filtering between the branches and flat, green leaves of the trees. How could they have blue sky here? How could they change the sky in only one part of the planet? It wasn't possible, of course, but it made Jet wonder where they were, exactly.

  The trees, too, seemed different somehow, almost like a different species of flora altogether. She didn't see any blackened or bleeding trunks, or leaves bleached a tired gray. The flowers had such shockingly bright colors, they looked more like a painting to Jet than the real thing.

  Even the buildings looked more alive than anything near the skag colony in Vancouver. Built with oddly rounded corners and deep, spreading, root-like structures, they had blue and green-tinted sides of some smooth, skin-like material. Some bubbled out of the ground like boulders, their outsides featureless, seemingly without windows. Others looked more like mushrooms, with smaller stalks below large, bulging formations on top. On the nearest of these, Jet could see entrances at the bottom, ringing the lower half like a beehive...or an anthill. Otherwise, she couldn't tell anything about what lived inside those walls, or the walls beyond it.

  Jet saw taller structures in the distance, only slightly less featureless, and bent into odd shapes. They made Jet think of those giant anthills that formed sometimes in the summer, with the inch-long black ants that stung when they bit you...and could even kill you if you fell into a nest, or were wounded too near one and couldn't move fast enough to get away. These buildings reminded Jet of those same, odd, mud-sculpture homes, only they stood high enough to be small mountains. The only thing that convinced her they weren't natural structures, or somehow created out of the very dirt of the valley where the landing pad held the culler ship, was their odd proportions. Some of them had near-spires at the top while others reminded her more of upside down trees, or even layer cakes turned on their heads. She saw more of those mushroom-like shapes too, as she looked around – heavy, bulbous ends atop thin spires of that same, white, stone-like material. The weight distribution seemed impossible on a few of these...they looked like they should be collapsing under the imbalance, but somehow, they didn't.