by Mark Tufo
“What’s happening?” I screamed, placing my hands over my ears.
“Someone is preparing to open the airlocks!” Urlack shouted as he dropped from the fighter and headed for the doors. I followed him, no way was I staying up there by myself. One of the Genos might have been hungry.
Urlack finally got to his destination, an oversized keypad. He typed in a series of commands and then came blissful silence as the alarms stopped.
“Manual override,” Urlack said to me. If I hadn’t known better, I would have sworn I saw sweat on his brow. The Genogerians were milling around, they didn’t know what to do. Their entire lives had been dictated by a master. One minute of freedom would not be able to undo all of that.
“Go!” Urlack shouted. “Demand your freedom and take it from those that will not give it to you willingly! Spread the word to your clansmen, you all know who your opposition will be. If they will not surrender you must kill them!”
“Will the Progerians fight? I didn’t think they liked to get their hands dirty.”
“This fight is far from finished, Michael Talbot. The innermost portion of this ship is heavily guarded; first by a ring of Genogerians that have been genetically altered to be the biggest and fiercest of our kind.”
I did not want to think of a bigger, meaner version of the brutes. They were already fodder enough for nightmares. “Won’t they want to join the revolution?” I asked naively.
“No,” he answered without even pondering the question. “They were bred specifically for the purpose of guarding their ‘superior’ masters. They can achieve no higher honor than to die in their defense. They have training, superior fire power and position.”
“We have the numbers right?”
“We have the numbers, but even then I do not know if it is enough. Because even if we get past them we come to the last and most lethal defense.”
“You’re kidding, right?”
“Kidding? Does that mean to procreate? I do not see how the reference fits.”
“Sorry, what does this next circle of hell entail?”
“Hell?”
“What’s after the mutant Genogerians?”
Urlack still looked confused, but he seemed to understand what I was asking. “The elite Progerian Guard. They have studied the art of fighting since they were yearlings. They used to be allowed to fight in the games but they dominated to the point where no one would bet against them.”
“They volunteered? For the games?”
“They were bored,” he answered.
I looked back at the fighter and a ride back to Earth. “Today’s as good a day as any other to die,” I told Urlack.
“That’s the spirit, hu-man,” Urlack said as we descended farther into the ship and deeper into the pits of hell.
“Why all the defenses, Urlack? I would think your Progerian masters would believe to have the Genogerians completely subdued.”
“We have many enemies among the stars, hu-man.”
“Yeah, that’s what happens when you take stuff that doesn’t belong to you.”
“Your anger is misdirected. I am of the same mind as you, remember?”
“Sorry,” I told him.
There was the sound of sporadic shots being fired, but it could have been celebratory. Even though Genogerians really didn’t seem the festive kind, I couldn’t really imagine a band of them festooned in beads at Mardi Gras.
“It is good to see you smile in the face of death,” Urlack said. “It is the true sign of a warrior.”
I was in no way going to let him know what had brought the grin to my face, he might retract his statement. As we swept deeper into the ship, we began to come across casualties.
“Any chance these are the Genogerian guards you spoke of?” I asked.
“No, these are the poor souls that do not believe we can ever be set free and fight blindly to preserve their present life no matter how dismal it is.”
“Kind of like Yankees fans,” I replied and my insane grin grew wider.
“Perhaps. Although I do not know what Yankees fans are.”
“You’re better off,” I told him and left it at that. I grabbed the downed Geno’s rifle and felt immediately better.
Now it was beginning to sound like a battle as we approached the chow hall. Screams of rebuke, betrayal, and pain emanated from the open doors.
Urlack put out his arm, barring my way. “I think it would be best if you did not go in there. You would most likely die.”
“Can the rifles kill you, Urlack?” I asked.
“Most assuredly,” he answered.
“Then what advantage do you have over me in there?” I asked.
“If you fall, the Genogerians might not be so willing to die,” he stated.
“I think you overplay my importance, Urlack. I think they are fighting for their freedom. And if what you say is so true, how would the Genogerians rally if they realized I was fighting alongside them?”
Urlack thought about it for a moment. “Your words are valid, but I will go in first and you will do your best to stay behind me.”
“Sure. Whatever,” I said it with sarcasm, but since Urlack really had no clue what that was I would plead ignorance later, if there were to be a later.
Blue tracers arced across the room amidst all the fighting I was having a hard time distinguishing one set of Genos from the other. As I began to control my breathing, I took well-aimed shots, I began to discern that not only were the uniforms of the mutant Genos different, they were much bigger and nowhere was this more evident when a standard Genogerian got too close and now found himself in hand-to-hand combat with the mutant. It wasn’t quite the size disparity from Geno to human, it was more like a teen Geno to a fully matured adult. The regular Geno put up a good fight, but it was clear he was outmatched. My shot hit the mutant high along its skull plating, peeling back the thick hide and exposing the bone-white skull before it was flooded over with blood.
The Geno I had saved looked over to me and perhaps nodded his appreciation and immediately thrust his long knife into the throat of the mutant before it could recover from the damage I had inflicted. The fighting was fierce and the Genogerians took some serious casualties, but within twenty minutes, all of the mutants had been killed. To a being, each had stayed and fought until its death. Not one ran or surrendered.
“Well, that is the opening salvo,” Urlack said, standing tall.
“Apparently, that’s not all of them?” I asked dismayed.
“No, they rotate by platoon to the feeding hall.”
“This was a platoon?” I asked. I looked over the carnage, a full twenty mutant Genos were dead, but close to fifty regular Genos were dead or dying and another thirty or so injured and we had a huge element of surprise. Next time we wouldn’t be so lucky.
“We cannot sustain these types of losses,” Urlack said, summing up everything I was wondering. “They will dig in now.”
“Does the ship itself employ any type of defensive measures, Urlack?” I asked. “Can they electrocute hallways or shut off life support systems or anything along those lines?”
“If they felt all was lost they have at their disposal a self-destruct mode.”
“Great. Another bomb. Not a big fan of bombs, Urlack.”
“Not a bomb. They would pilot the ship to the nearest atmosphere, so it would destroy itself.”
“Don’t see how that’s much better.”
“It is not. They would both lead to our deaths.”
I thought for a moment how long it was before Dee began to catch on to how I communicated and then I wondered if me and Urlack would have that kind of time together.
“Should we get some Genogerians together who can act as leaders and begin to formulate some plans as to how we can take this ship over? Are all the Genogerians even aware that a rebellion is happening?” It was amazing how quickly that second question was solved for me. I would have liked to thank the Progerians for their thoughtfulness in that ma
tter.
Over the speakers that permeated the ship came the voice of a Progerian officer. “Genogerian soldiers, you are in direct violation of the Gesteindt Dictum that states all Genogerians will bow in deference to all Progerian commands. You will return to your barracks where you will await your deaths for your treasonous acts. Drop your weapons and honor the accord which your ancestors bowed to many millennia before.”
Astounded, I watched as a fair number of Genogerians did just that. The clatter as multiple weapons fell to the floor was unnerving. Urlack’s shoulders slumped as he realized that perhaps he had underestimated his allies. The rest that had not dropped their weapons now looked around confused; for something, for some sort of direction. They had been led for so long they knew no other way.
I jumped on a table and plowed three shots into the ceiling, never really thinking how incredibly stupid that was and hoping they didn’t ricochet. “Until now I had absolutely no idea how stupid you Genogerians are.” I was not sure all of them understood my words, but it would have been impossible to not hear the derision in my tone. “Your freedom is within your grasp, yet you yield and meekly head back to await your deaths, no less. I don’t know why I ever feared you or your kind. You are among some of the most pathetic creatures we have ever encountered. Go! Go to your fucking bunks, maybe they’ll let you live so you can fight on Earth! I hope so, because I can’t wait to tell my fellow man how you really are big losers! It’ll be my pleasure to shoot each one of you because, while me and my kind will be fighting for our freedom, you and your kind will be fighting merely because someone told you that you must!”
I was enflamed, my throat was hoarse with rage, spittle arced from my mouth as I screamed. I could not believe the temerity of the beings!
Some stopped their progress back to their barracks; some openly growled and hissed at me. Some began to advance—they were mad—and now I was the focus of their attention.
“The next motherfucker that takes a step I will blast him into Geno heaven if there even is such a thing and you can grovel at the feet of Gropytheon for your worthless souls!"
They stopped, I could see them asking among themselves how this outsider knew about the Heaven of their forbidden religion. More than a few pressed their palms to their foreheads. “If you fight and possibly die for what you believe in, those of you that survive will be able to believe in and pray to whomever you wish down on Earth. You will be able to raise your off-spring without the yolk of oppression.”
“You speak the truth?” one of the closer Genogerians asked.
“I do,” I told him.
“My name is Tantor, I wish to be part of this new world,” he told me.
“You will have to fight for what you want, Tantor. Nobody, especially the Progerians, is going to give it to you.”
Tantor snarled some harsh words that would make a German blush, the Genogerians came back and picked up their weapons.
“What’d he say?” I asked Urlack.
“He basically echoed your same words, with two added parts.”
“I’m waiting.”
“He told them to gather all the idiots that went back to their bunks and to make sure that no one eats you.”
“Comforting.”
“I would think so,” Urlack said.
***
It was an hour later when we were all in one of the massive barracks that housed the Genogerians. It was immense. It was so vast, it curved out of sight. I sat on one of the large racks going over the paw drawn outline of the ship, not at all happy with what I was looking at. Attacking a medieval castle with nothing more than a slingshot would have been easier. There were layers upon layers of defenses set up.
“Urlack, Michael,” Tantor said, damn near shredding my name. “There are ten thousand, two hundred forty-seven Genogerians aboard this ship that are in fighting ability. Although one thousand, two hundred twenty-six will not fight with us, they have given their word that they will not impede us, either.”
“That’s insane, they await their deaths if we lose and reap the benefits if we win with no bloodshed on their part,” I said angrily.
“They will not leave here if we are victorious,” Tantor said.
“They would rather die like sheep?” I asked him.
“I do not know what sheep are, but yes, they would rather die by the hands of their masters than do their masters any harm.”
“Their funeral. That gives us around nine thousand Genogerians.” The vast numbers of the Genogerians were already on earth most likely wreaking havoc. It was going to be difficult to convince the surviving humans down there that we were now allies, should we get to that point.
One thing at a time, I thought, trying to refocus on the task at hand.
“How many mutants are there?” I asked Urlack.
“Easily seven thousand,” he said.
I moaned softly. If we had the proportionate losses like we did in the feeding hall we were done for.
“And the Progerian Elite?” I asked, heaping bad news on top of bad news.
“I do not think it is more than a thousand.”
“Well, there’s something! We have advantage in numbers!”
“There are still the two to three thousand Progerian pilots on board to deal with,” Tantor added.
“Will they fight?” I asked Urlack.
“Perhaps if they feel pushed to the wall. They do not know much of fighting beyond what their ship can do, though.”
“What if we give them an out?”
Urlack waited for further clarification.
“Would they surrender over death?”
“I think perhaps they may be too haughty to surrender to Genogerians.”
“Okay, let’s suppose it wasn’t Genos?”
“It would not be unheard of. They have surrendered before with the hopes that they will be freed later on by their superiors.”
“And how does that go?”
“The Progerians are very protective of their own.”
I sat and discussed my plan with Urlack and Tantor for a few more minutes. Even they seemed dubious with my thoughts, but unlike their counterparts on Earth they didn’t completely rip them apart.
I stood outside the door leading to the officer’s quarters. I still amazed myself each and every time I got into one of these predicaments, it was like I was playing Russian roulette with myself and the revolver was fully loaded. “Who does this shit?” I said aloud.
Tantor looked at me. “You are going in?” he asked.
“Want to trade places?” I asked. He started to move. “Just kidding, sorry,” I said, placing my hand on his chest.
Urlack came over to the pad and entered the appropriate code. The door slid quietly open. I walked in alone—like a lamb to the slaughter—flashed across my mind. Progerian officers were milling about, they appeared to be trying to relax, but I could see traces of stress in their mannerisms. Besides being in a war with a planet of savages, they now had an open rebellion aboard their own ship.
“Hu-man, you cannot be here!” one of the Progerians said, rushing at me.
I leveled my rifle on him, my heart thudding in my chest. I felt like I was pointing a bb gun at a rhino. “Hold on a moment,” I told him, hoping my voice didn’t crack.
He pulled up short. “What is the meaning of this?” he screamed in rage.
“Well, I would have thought it was pretty self-explanatory. I’m pointing a rifle at your mid-section and I can either blow a hole in you or you can surrender.”
“Surrender to a filthy hu-man?” he asked. Now some of his pilot jockey friends were flanking him in a show of solidarity. I noted that none of them were armed, which made me feel only slightly better.
“Die then, it doesn’t really make all that much difference to me,” I said as I brought the rifle up to my shoulder.
“You cannot kill all of us before we overpower you,” he said haughtily.
“No, but we can,” Urlack said as I was forced forw
ard from the influx of Genogerians.
“Urlack? You have truly betrayed your people? I thought it was lies from higher command because they did not like your heritage. I should have known that your weaker Genogerian traits would pull you down with them,” the pilot spat.
Urlack did not rise to the barb, but I could tell he wanted to. “You are wrong, Betar, I do what I do for all of us. Genogerian, Progerian, and hu-mans—even if they are filthy.”
“Hey,” I said.
He continued. “For far too long we have enslaved the Genogerians to do all the work we have deemed menial or dangerous for the Progerian class. We have suppressed their beliefs, forced them to fight for our causes and entertainment. They grow weary of the burden we make them carry.”
“They are meant to carry our burden. We are their masters,” Betar spat.
I thought Tantor was going to blow a hole in him. “Hold on,” I told him, “you do that and we’ll probably have to kill them all and then we won’t have a bargaining chip.”
Somewhere deep inside, the words registered with Tantor, but he wasn’t happy about it.
Another pilot spoke out. “They cannot fend for themselves. They need us to lead them. That is the way it is, the way it has always been.”
“Only because you have forced us!” one of the Genogerians in the back spoke.
“Stop!” I yelled, blasting another hole in the ceiling. “Listen, we know the Progerians are not going to get over the biases they have built up their entire lives at this moment. If we stay here and debate, I know how this is going to end up—a lot of blood. I will ask again, Betar, as a representative of the planet Earth. My name is Michael Talbot.”
Good, that got a murmuring of surprise from them.
“Will you surrender?” I asked and at that moment at least fifty Genogerian weapons came to bear. I would have loved to have been able to turn around and see the impressive Geno display, but it was echoed in the shocked looks of the Progerians to my front.
Betar was shaking with rage, I could see him rapidly weighing his diminishing options.