Rise of Aen

by Damian Shishkin

  —.

  The RPG round hit him square in the chest, knocking him against the wall ten feet behind him. Aen was taken by surprise so much that he barely had time to deflect most of the blast with a telekinetic barrier, but the round did do damage to his bullet riddled body. Most of the chest plate of his body armour was gone; shards of its remains were imbedded in his chest, and his skin was charred black.

  Then came the gunfire; bullets made from the Lyarran ship’s hull tore right through the remnants of his armour, piercing his flesh painfully. Aen reacted instinctively and grabbed a piece of metal to shield him from the barrage. Round after round of bullets and RPGs hammered him in the shadows leaving him scrambling to think of a way out. Then he saw it!

  Off to his right was an overturned jeep; its tires smouldering from the two explosions. With all his concentration, Aen tensed his body and reached out with his hand to lift the vehicle. As if responding to the gesture, it rocked gently and started to move. His heart began to race—his body was preparing for a massive explosion of energy!

  The weight of the metal shield slowly faded as his telekinesis took over; his body pulsed energy in waves around him. Glancing down, he could see his heart glowing in his chest; pulsating as it produced the massive energy output he was going to need. It was hypnotizing; the heart seemed to rotate like a blue star within his tattered chest! Aen shook his head to snap himself out of his daze and refocused his attentions on the jeep which was now hovering about a foot off the ground. A quick glance over at his attackers and he confirmed that they were unaware of the building danger in the shadows, too wrapped up in the idea of having the upper hand. The time was right, so Aen struck out at them with full force!

  With a push, he launched a concussion wave that circled out from his position outwards and it struck the two soldiers hard. Both were thrown backwards and upwards, carried by the wave until they would strike something solid. Aen ignored the General and focused on the other one—the last of his ill-fated kin. Quickly figuring out his trajectory, Aen flung the jeep towards the point where the man would strike the wall.

  With a thud, the soldier struck the wall hard followed by a crash as the jeep struck him dead on before he could fall to the floor. The impact of the vehicle and the force of the shockwave were too much for even the enhanced physiology of the hybrid—his body exploded under the pressures involved, splattering across the wall as the metal bent and groaned. One down, one to go.

  With his heart still racing, Aen slowly got to his feet as energy poured from his core making it seem like ghostly blue flames were encompassing him. He staggered forward as the tremendous pain gripped his battered body, and began to search for his final target.

  “Come out and play, General Taylor!” his voice echoed in the darkness. Aen was filled with rage; his revenge was so very nearly complete!

  The staccato of gunfire rose from the open front of the building; the muzzle flash gave away his prey as he fired aimlessly in fear. Aen stalked him carefully, knowing that this man was far more dangerous than all the others combined. Another burst of gunfire in his direction made him pause and realize that it had come from the exact same place—his enemy was unable to move! This changed everything.

  Slowly circling around the rubble strewn about, Aen studied the environment. What remained of the hanger was very little, and what was left moaned and groaned as its structure strained to remain standing. He heard the whine of metal and turned to watch the jeep that was embedded in the wall fall to the ground with a resounding crash! A sadistic grin rose on his lips; his teeth gleamed in the glow from his heart.

  “There’s no one left to protect you Taylor!” he shouted. “All your little monsters are gone; now there is just you and me!”

  “Come and get me!” a wheezing voice called back followed by coughing. “I’ll take you to hell with me!”

  Aen reached out with his hands in front of him, palms pressed together. With hardly any effort, he felt the weight of the rubble in front of him and as he spread his arms apart, the debris followed, making a clear path to the fallen general. The man was pinned up against a beam—a steel rod piercing his chest near his shoulder held him there. His left arm was bent backwards and his fibula stuck out of his left leg; blood ran from his wounds in an expanding pool beneath him. His rifle was held loosely by his right hand as the man was clearly struggling to remain conscious.

  “Finish it!” the dying man demanded. “But you won’t win. You can’t call your friends to conquer the Earth. You are stuck here by yourself and we will hunt you to the end of time!” Taylor coughed some more; blood coated his teeth and lips as he smiled hatefully at Aen.

  Aen was now right in front of the General and he quickly kicked the rifle from the dangling arm. “My only reason for being here is right in front of me, and the plan went perfectly. It is amazing what one is willing to do to save his own ass.” He said with a chuckle.

  Taylor looked back in utter confusion; the pain of his injuries and the fatigue from the heat had taken a huge toll on his body.

  “You didn’t guess it was your mentor that sold you out today?” Aen said, somewhat surprised at the level of hate that had left Taylor blind to the otherwise obvious. “I wasn’t here for the ship, but it would have been a bonus had you not destroyed it. I planned this for this exact moment; when it was I who decided your final moments. You were blinded by fear of the one who crashed, not knowing it was her intention to be captured and used to create me, that she was the one manipulating you to do what she wanted.”

  Taylor tried his hardest to think, recalling the subtle voice in his head prodding him along for each step of the project. The idea of making a hybrid, the thoughts on how to extract and combine each species DNA, even the rare marker that led them to Subject 54—it was all from her! He closed his eyes with the dark realization that he had been the puppet from the get go and he was helpless against it!

  Aen reached out and grasped the bloodied metal rod protruding from Taylor’s chest and moved it upward slowly causing the man to groan loudly in pain. “But you were so focused on my race, the one that had been here for thousands of years! They weren’t here to conquer, but to observe and nurture our race! Did your hatred blind you to the fact that there was more than just the Lyarrans out there?” He spat at Taylor, leaning just inches from the older man.

  “This is our world, your people have no right to it!” Taylor sneered back. “Our race is resilient and we will...”

  “They will be culled like a herd of cattle in a slaughterhouse!” Aen interrupted. “The ones who survive will be sold as slaves and Earth will be strip-mined until it is barren and dead! The human race will be gone and forgotten, just like you!”

  “So what now?” the General looked defeated and lost.

  “Now you will die from your own stupidity and I will join the resistance—may whatever god you believe in have mercy on your soul!” Aen leaned in and pulled the soldier’s pistol from its holster, turning it over in his hand.

  “After all I’ve done, you will still help us?”

  Aen chambered around and leveled the barrel to rest against the general’s forehead. “I will help them. You, however, I’m finishing what I started here tonight.”

  Without even blinking, Aen pulled the trigger. His revenge was complete; his promise to Sara was fulfilled. His legs wobbled under the overwhelming emotions rushing him and he staggered back to sit down on a chunk of the catwalk. The gun fell from his hand, clattering on the concrete floor, and he rested his head in his palms as tears flowed from his eyes; a wash of pent up emotion was released. Finally, this chapter of his life was over!

  The sound of engines racing in the distance brought him back as for the first time, Aen was aware that the storm had passed and the base had woke up to the carnage within. Mobile artillery and soldiers rushed across the tarmac to the tattered hangar, hoping to render aide to their fallen comr
ades. But there would be utter devastation for them to find; only bodies for them to bury.

  Slowly rising to his feet, Aen looked up at the sky. So very little time left; in his current condition he would really drive home the point at the U.N. meetings. Stepping back into the shadows he was shocked at how tired all this had made him and he began to wonder if he would have enough to be the saviour his mother had heralded him to be. He shrank back into the darkness and disappeared, leaving the arriving troops to find nothing but death and destruction.

  TWELVE

  United Nations Headquarters, New York City -

  Five Months and One Day from Arrival

  General Patterson took a deep breath and sighed as he sat in the lobby of the United Nations Assembly hall in New York; a report on this morning’s “incident” at Groom Lake dangling from his right hand. The hangar and its contents were lost completely, and all personnel assigned to guard it were found dead in the rubble. In such a short space of time, both projects stemming from the crash were wiped out completely and they were left with no better understanding of what was out there.

  “At least he didn’t level the whole fucking facility,” Patterson mumbled in frustration. In his mind he calculated the days remaining; five and a half months left until the end of the world. He had done everything he could up to now; everything there was to do. He had brought his findings to his superiors, who directed him to the president—the president who was addressing the other heads of state who in turn notified each country’s representative in the U.N. Such a great secret passed around to so many, it was only a matter of time before it became public knowledge. Now it was incumbent on him to bring light to the mess of confusion, the only world-wide expert in alien life and technology. Patterson shivered—soon he would be brought before the world leaders to tell them the world was about to end and there was very little they could do to stop it.

  In his briefcase were the electronic files accumulated in the years of both projects and the detailed analysis of the incoming ship from the man who had appeared in his office. Patterson had read these files over and over on the flight to New York and was shocked at the level of detail that was being provided to him.

  The race was called the Husk, and they were a nomadic species spread amongst the stars to enslave, conquer and strip worlds of their resources. The creatures themselves were something between machine and biological; a step taken in their evolution a long time ago. Like alien Vikings, they would plunder and pillage any world they came across—and Earth was next. Even more troubling to Patterson was the realization that it was humanity’s own arrogance that had led these locusts here.

  “They will be calling on you in a few minutes, General.” An usher peeked through the hall doors to tell him to which he just nodded. Time was running out and he wasn’t sure he had enough to show the desperate urgency needed for the coming days. In his mind, Patterson hoped that Taylor’s creature would show up to help the case as he said he might. But the wreckage at the base told another picture, and the old General knew that if this thing had survived that it would be hurt beyond belief.

  He looked out the hall window to the blue morning sky. “For all our follies, all our mistakes, we deserve to survive this catastrophe.” He whispered to himself. “And if we do, what will be left of us?”

  —

  The assemblage grew deathly quiet as Patterson stepped up to the podium; they nervously waited for what he had to add to the dreadful news just dropped on them. He noted the uneasy anxiety in the room and he was sure his presentation would break the silence in no time. He drew his breath, ignored the butterflies in his stomach, and began.

  “I will dispense with any pleasantries at this time,” he started, “As I believe enough time has been wasted thus far. You all have seen the images, but I am positive none of you know the full scale of what approaches. I think our darkest fears are coming true, and each of us should hold the utmost urgency with any actions decided upon today.”

  He looked up from his notes and saw hundreds of eyes staring back, all hanging intently on his words. He began at the beginning; starting with the early morning phone call from Taylor in the badlands of South Dakota and leading up to the meeting with the monster in his makeshift office. The room stayed silent—aside from the odd gasp of shock—and no one dared to interrupt his recap. As his eyes probed around the room, they met each and every set of eyes. Some were angry, some were in terror, but one man’s eyes showed calm and understanding, a look that Patterson kept returning his attentions to. The calm demeanor was that of the representative from the Chinese council.

  Pausing to catch his breath, the general led into updated images of the alien craft in the Oort Cloud. This was the breaking point of the silence and shouts and panic filled the room. After a long outburst of noise, the room once again quietened, and the Speaker of the House began to question Patterson.

  “General, before you entered it was the conclusion of the Council to try to negotiate a peace with these creatures, but you stand before us and say we should strike before they expect it?”

  “Yes, it may be the best opportunity we have to strike.” He answered quickly and gruffly. This was the part he disliked the most—he hated politicians!

  “Yet you expect us to believe you as the sole expert on this subject; take your word as the gospel on this? This is where the Council is stuck. We see a chance to engage in a conversation, create a peace with these aliens in a chance to learn and grow the human race to new heights.”

  “So what you mean is everyone here will hide in safety as you order innocents to be slaughtered in vain for your stupidity! This I find unacceptable!” the general barked back to the snide remarks.

  His words were met with aggressive retorts, threats, and even laughter, but as he stood his ground he noticed the Chinese man in a plain suit standing with his desk light on in the proper way to ask permission to speak. Patterson knew the mob wouldn’t let up so he met the accusatory gaze of the Speaker then pointed the representative out. Realizing that procedure must be followed, the Speaker smashed his gavel to regain control the room.

  “The house recognizes the representative from China.” The Speaker said as quiet began to be restored.

  The small man, modestly dressed, bowed graciously and walked slowly down to the podium in an odd change in protocol. In his hands was a small metallic disc, about an inch and a half thick. He approached the general, who had remained in place, and bowed again—as if to ask permission to take his place. Patterson nodded slightly and stepped back to allow the man to stand forward.

  “I graciously disagree with the speculation that the General is the only voice in this matter.” The older man spoke calmly.

  “What the hell are you talking about?” came a cry from above with others asking similar questions. The small man held his hand up to silence the masses and waited for them to respond. Once quiet, he resumed.

  “In our country, many of our people have known of this day for years. Long ago, a monastery was built around a crater in the heart of the mountains. But unknown to the monks, this crater was home to visitors from afar, and it didn’t take long for the beings to make themselves known. They didn’t pass themselves off as gods, and didn’t make the monks submit to their will, they just learned from each other and shared wisdom.”

  He paused, not to catch his breath, but to let his words sink in. “The Lyarrans, as they were called, showed these simple monks the secrets of the stars and also the horrors that awaited mankind. They were a part of a research team that had been here during the Dark Ages to watch over us and guide us as we grew. Long life they were blessed with, but dwindled were their numbers at this point. Unable to return back to the Empire whence they came, they long ago made Earth their home as well, so the monks saw a new path of enlightenment, and together with these benevolent beings they studied and waited—waited for today.”

  “These
are just ramblings of an old, crazy man!” shouted someone.

  “Ah,” the man replied, “Do not take my word for it. I have a message to deliver.” He said as he placed the disc at the center of the room and tapped the center. It glowed brilliantly in a blue light before revealing the image of a lone creature; a woman of alien origin stood and looked about the room. The assemblage gasped and stood in surprise!

  “I stand before you, the leaders of the planet Terra Sol, in a time of crisis. I only wish I was able to do so in person, but with my last breaths I record this message for you.” The hologram said in a ghostly, yet beautiful tone. “I am Ameia—Council of the Lyarran Empire and Commander of the expedition fleet to Terra Sol and I hope to enlighten you before the skies darken.”

  —

  In the back upper corner of the assemblage hall of the U.N, a dark figure hung close to the shadows and took in the goings on with keen interest. Aen had enough time to retreat back to the Amarra and clean up and change so he didn’t smell of ash and blood or draw any unwanted attention. Dressed now in a plain grey suit with his hair tied back neatly, he had arrived just as the argument with the General had reached its peak. Now, he stood transfixed as all others in the hall did as well at the majesty of his mother’s ghostly projection as it began to address the court.

  He had been left with only vague recollections of her and they were scattered in his fractured mind, but seeing her living before him was nearly overwhelming. It was obviously recorded after she had assisted him in escaping the hellish prison which spawned him as she was bruised and frail from her extended coma. Even in this state, Ameia was strikingly beautiful and strong, all of which was the perfect combination to capture the attention of this particular audience.