The alien pilots, he knew, would be in stronger control of their individual crafts than he was. All he could do was hope to stay alive long enough to fire a few more shots at the rear thrusters. Evading between his enemies he stole a quick glance at the thruster he fired at previously. As he hoped, it seemed to be no longer functioning. One down, three to go.
He banked hard to the left and found himself facing one of the alien crafts. He fired rapidly. Most of his shots went wide, but he thought one landed on its wing. It wasn’t long before it returned fire. He had to stop firing and evade its barrage. He spun to the right and flew down and away from it. It followed him. He watched streak after streak fly past his window as he spun his ship upside down.
A hit on the right side of his craft sent him spinning uncontrollably, but at least the firing stopped. He saw through his window the two crafts glide across his view as he spun around and around. At last he regained control and turned once more to face his aggressors. This moment of peace gave him an opportunity to try and assess the damage. To his astonishment a display of the craft presented itself on the glass of his window. His right wing was blinking red. Using the instinct of operating human touch screens, he placed his fingers on the glass and was able to manipulate the image. He zoomed into the wing and rotated the craft around to get a better look. The image showcased where two blasts hit their mark. If the display was accurate, he believed the hits to be minor and not immediately threatening.
The two crafts facing him hovered two hundred feet away—the rear of the alien mothership another five hundred behind them. He assumed the alien pilots were receiving instructions on what to do with him. No doubt they were all taken by surprise when he started firing on their thrusters. Menacing voices spoke inside the cockpit, though he couldn’t find any actual speakers. His two foes steadily advanced. They were going to attempt to bring him in alive.
Liam’s hand found its way inside his front right pocket feeling the engagement ring he had kept there for the past two months. Under no circumstance would he allow himself to become a prisoner. He had a mission to accomplish.
“I’m sorry, Ann,” he whispered.
He turned on the cockpit light allowing the two crafts to peer inside and conclude that he didn't belong to their species.
Hoping they would be taken by a moment of surprise, he accelerated as quickly as he was capable while banking to the left, the inertia throwing himself against the back of the narrow seat.
“Shit, this moves!”
Green weapon fire brushed by his ship speeding past him. He pulled every flight maneuver he knew to evade their fire. In the corner of his eye he saw the rear thrusters of the alien ship.
“One more.”
He turned to face the far left thruster—closer than he realized—and fired. The explosion swallowed his own craft. Coming out the other side of the flames he had no visual of his enemy. He raced to the starboard side and retraced his flight back to The Hawking except this time taking full advantage of the craft’s incredible speed.
In his rear display monitor he saw he wasn’t alone either. The two crafts on his tail followed him and were gaining. It only now occurred to Liam that he didn’t know how he would be able to board his home ship while in an alien craft being chased by two—no, three—now five aliens.
The aliens fired on all sides as he zigzagged the best he could. It would be over in moments.
Red streaks suddenly crossed through the green.
A dozen Z56 fighters blazed their way toward Liam. Twelve on five was good odds for the human team. He knew he couldn’t stick around in the fray with no way for his side to distinguish himself from the others. He flew right through the pack of Z56s in a blink. The battle was just beginning in his rear display.
The airlock door ahead on The Hawking was still open, but closing. Fortunately, it was a slow process and he had just enough time to enter before he would have been unable to fit.
Pandemonium reigned on the other side of the glass airlock.
Pilots raced to climb into their ships. Technicians were running here and there. Debra was the first to notice the alien ship awaiting entry. She jogged to the airlock trying to catch a glimpse as to who was inside.
Liam tilted the craft down so she could see him waving. With a nod of acknowledgement she hustled to the control panel and gave him entry. The pilots and techs cleared the way, most scared and confused.
The door opened and the stairs appeared allowing Liam to exit the craft where Debra was waiting for him.
“Well?” she asked.
“I got half of their thrusters. This is our chance to leave them behind.”
“Not sure it’ll be that easy, Liam. Remember when they disappeared and reappeared right behind us? How do we know blowing up some engines would stop that from happening again?”
Liam hesitated. In his rushed plan he hadn’t thought about that. Did the thrusters move their ship that fast, or was it something else entirely?
“Where’s our friend?” he asked.
“Being detained by our new security chief.”
He sensed detest in her voice.
“Right. Where?”
“Back office, far side of the docking bay. The closed door with the blinds drawn.” She pointed to a room fifty yards away.
“I need to try and get it to communicate with us. In the meantime—win that damn battle, Debra.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Is there any doubt?”
Behind the office door, Percy sat in a chair opposite the tied up and wide awake alien. When the door opened, the alien turned to see who walked in. Percy didn’t take his eyes away from their prisoner. The alien didn’t take its eyes off Liam.
“Welcome back, Liam.”
“Getting anywhere?” Liam shut the door behind him and took a seat on the desk while Percy and the alien sat off to the far wall.
“Nothing. Jameson is so pissed off at you by the way. You’re lucky you’re already on this ship or you’d be gone.”
“I’ll deal with him later. I destroyed half of their thruster engines. I have no doubt we could outrun them. But a chance remains they have another method of moving in space, like how they caught up to us in seconds.”
“I thought about that too, after you left. But this thing isn’t talking. I’m fairly certain it doesn’t understand me at all.”
The alien followed their conversation turning its bald, slender gray head to look at whoever was speaking.
“Should we torture it?” Percy asked, still not looking at Liam.
“No,” he answered with no hesitation. “Not when we don’t even think it could understand what we’re asking it. And we don’t have time. We need to get out of here.”
“What should we do with it then?”
“We accelerate enough ahead and hope they don’t follow us with their jumping tech. Then we recall our Z56s. When we’re far enough out we send it packing on its ship.”
“You just want to let it go?”
“It may be seen as a token of our good faith.”
“Liam, we are outside killing them in a space battle—which sounds fucking awesome by the way. I don’t get how sending this thing home back to its buddies would call them off.”
“This is uncharted territory. We don’t know how their culture thinks. And I could tell by its ship that it had seen battle before us. They know war. They know the rules.”
“You’re the boss.”
“Prepare it to leave, Percy.”
Liam left the room and found a half empty docking bay. Debra was coordinating wildly on a headset in front of a monitor bay displaying the battle from a handful of exterior cameras mounted to the side of the ship.
“Debra!” Liam shouted to gain her attention.
“We’re winning. Now leave me alone.”
Fair enough. Liam took off running.
Minutes later he entered the bridge. An officer saw him enter and signaled his appearance to Captain Jameson. The captain was furio
us as he strode up to Liam—their faces inches apart.
“What the hell, Donovan? You take off on some half-ass idea and now you have us in a fucking full-scale battle! I should have you thrown out of the ship!”
“I understand. But I’ve disabled half of their thrusters. If we speed up we can outrun them. We need to pull ahead and recall our Z56s.”
Jameson calmed his stance, but his anger continued to disseminate.
“They’re disabled?”
“Destroyed completely, captain.”
He called out to his pilot. “Full acceleration.”
The pilot did as instructed and within seconds they were pulling away from the alien ship. Liam watched through the rear window bay as the gap between the two ships expanded. Off to the side he could make out the battle below. It was a flurry of chaos. Vessels on both sides moved so quickly it was impossible to follow the action.
Each Z56 available to fight was out there right then. Every few seconds a green or red streak hurled past the bridge windows. An explosion lit up the battle below. He couldn’t tell from whose side.
“Donovan,” Jameson said.
Liam pulled himself away from the window.
“You’re dismissed. Get out of my bridge.”
“But, sir—”
“I don’t want to hear about it. Leave before I have security escort you out.”
He thought of the alien prisoner Percy was prepping for release. Maybe it was better if Jameson didn’t know.
“Fine.”
Without another word he left the bridge. While waiting for the elevator to open, he called Percy.
“Is it ready to leave?”
“It is. Myself and three others have our guns trained on it and we’re standing by.”
“Tell Debra to recall the Z56s first chance she gets. I’m on my way.”
By the time Liam was back down in the docking bay, The Hawking had a sizable lead on the alien ship. Some Z56s were already returning, most sporting fresh battle scars, a handful barely able to stay in the air. Pilots exited their crafts cheering. A good sign.
Liam remembered the thrill of winning a fight, especially one that’s against the odds. It brought him back to days he’d like to remember, but mixed with too many he’d do anything to forget.
But that time was over. His skirmish with the WWLO scumbags barely counted compared to what he did in his past. Dwelling on past wars was a habit he worked hard to break. This was another reason he looked forward to Proxima. A fresh peaceful start.
“Successful mission,” Debra said. She appeared from nowhere startling him out of his thoughts. She walked alongside him past the returning Z56s on a path to the parked alien craft.
“The enemy retreat?”
“At a point, yes. Once we pulled so far ahead they all left at once. I’m assuming they were recalled.”
“How many losses?”
Debra stopped momentarily. Eyes on the floor, she answered. “We lost about a third of our pilots.”
“I’m so sorry, Debra.”
“They knew what was at stake. If we get out of here they will have saved many lives.”
“Absolutely.”
Liam put his hand on her shoulder. The two shared a quiet moment in the midst of a celebration. They knew the pilots would mourn on their own time, but for now they took time to honor the dead.
But there was also business awaiting them. Percy stood, gun planted at the alien’s back, as Liam and Debra joined them. Liam studied the alien. Who knew if he’d ever come across another one? He took in its features more closely.
Its skin was smooth in the face, but the top of the head gradually became more wrinkled. Its two vertically aligned eyes were higher from its nose than a humans would be. The nose barely extended out of its face with three small slits for nostrils. Right below was a narrow mouth with virtually no lips. Liam couldn’t help but wonder about its teeth. The clothing it wore was a black skin-tight jumpsuit that covered its feet. Protruding from the arms were hands with three fingers and a thumb. Inch long black hair covered the backs. Its fingernails came to a sharp point.
Together, the three of them ushered the alien back into its ship. It turned to face them as the door closed—its eyes stared at them expressionlessly as it was engulfed in shadow before disappearing inside the craft.
Liam and the others backed up to give the craft room to maneuver its way out the airlock door. Debra had three of her pilots manning Z56s with weapons locked on in case the alien tried anything on its way out.
Almost soundlessly, the alien craft rose off the platform spinning in midair to find the exit that would allow it to return home. The craft’s rear engine silently propelled it into the airlock as a technician closed the door behind it. Everyone in the docking bay gathered to watch as the first alien to make contact with the human race piloted its ship away into the deep void of space.
When the alien left, the excitement in the room seemed to have evaporated with it. Pilots and crew who cheered minutes before now seemed to be taking in the full realization of what occurred and who among them didn’t make it back. The change in the atmosphere was palpable.
Over the next two hours The Hawking continued its acceleration away from Earth. Meanwhile, the alien ship they were speeding away from had managed to turn itself around and headed in the opposite direction. Prior to leaving the planet it was agreed upon by the governments and the STS captains that neither would attempt communication with the other in fear of the aliens having the capability to trace their signals, which meant nobody knew the fate of their planet.
It turned out the exterior of The Hawking took quite a bit of collateral damage during the battle. The engineering department was still investigating, but early reports were unpromising. The current estimate was a week delay while repairs were made on the hull. If the estimate held true, then the STS ship would have to essentially park once they reached a safe distance while the other four in their fleet pulled ahead.
Later that night, Liam relayed this to Ann from his quarters. They talked on his wall-screen. Liam held an ice pack to his forehead on the wound he suffered on the bridge.
“What does this mean for me boarding The Hawking?” she asked.
“I wouldn't count on it. The schedule is set. Once the ships pass Venus, it’s time for the Big Sleep. We’ll be at least a week behind you. Plus, we have to travel a bit further now to get to Venus than you guys. I don’t think the captains are going to arrange a delay just so you can be with me. Jameson and I aren’t in the best place, so asking him would be pointless.”
“It’s not fair. I know I’m being childish, but it’s not.”
“I know how you feel. But, you know what? A thousand years will go by like this—” Liam snapped his fingers.
Ann laughed. “I guess you’re right. What’s another week and a millennium?”
“Nothing. It’ll be no time at all.”
PART 2
Chapter 15
BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.
The woman panicked—unable to see or feel her surroundings. The alarm awoke her conscience, but the process began hours ago when the gas that cycled through her tube for a thousand years began dissipating. Five minutes passed before she was capable of opening her eyes. Still paralyzed everywhere else, she looked around herself to the best of her ability. She was surrounded by glass that lay a foot in front of her face. The glass had a layer of film buildup on it so she had no clear visual of what was on the other side. Even more frightening, she had no memory of who she was or where she was. If she could scream, she would.
She wanted to claw her way out of this prison.
Breathe steady, she told herself. She lay there, fighting back a rising sea of panic, for what may have been up to an hour. At one point she thought she heard a couple of voices, but couldn’t be sure. Nobody came to check on her, no other noise besides the terrible constant beeping. She needed out of this trap.
While she lay helpless she tried to remember things�
��her name to start with. Nothing came to her. Did she have parents? A home? Job? The unanswerable questions kept coming and with each one a fresh wave of frustration.
After almost going insane, she was relieved to discover that feeling was returning to her limbs. She practiced wiggling her fingers and managed to lift her ring finger a few centimeters. At first that was all she could move. She shifted her mental focus to put all she had into moving another finger. She closed her eyes to concentrate and noticed she was scrunching up the toes on her left foot. That got the ball rolling and it wasn’t long before she moved all her fingers, toes, and eventually arms and legs.
Now she could feel her surroundings. Her fingers stroked the glass, gliding across the frame wiping away some of the film. She pounded on it and tried to scream, but only managed a hoarse whisper.
There was a keypad set along her right side near her waist. The screen instructed for her to enter a five digit code. She put in the first five numbers that popped in her head. The screen flashed red and reset, but at least that put a stop to the incessant beeping. She tried a dozen more combinations—all red. There was nothing she could do but lay and wait. She cleared away the remaining film from inside the glass, wiping the residue on the gown she was wearing. There were tubes on her left and right, both occupied by other individuals in the same predicament.
Another fifteen minutes came and went by the time an image flashed in her mind: Earth. Floating away. A man sharing a hot beverage with her on her porch at sunrise. Liam.
Ann’s memories poured in all at once and the panic she’d been living with subsided immediately as she remembered everything. She entered the code she memorized before going under into the keypad and her tube door opened. It pained her to sit up, but she managed ever so carefully. As she looked around, she saw some tubes were still shut, others open, and a few people walking around. She saw the sign that was screwed into the wall in front of every other tube.
DO NOT WAKE THE OTHERS. MEMORY MUST RETURN ON ITS OWN.
Proxima Page 14