The Alien Creator

by Michael Miller

  Bravo team watches in horror as friends and colleagues battle below them about fifty yards down steep terrain. Several soldiers are soon unable to continue as others struggle on. With two of the five enemy incapacitated and hog-tied, warriors able to continue helps others hoping to survive. As one victorious creature appears ready to deliver deathblow stomps to two soldiers lying unconscious, crack of a single armor piercing 5.56-mm round puts everyone on notice. All fighters stop to see what happened as one of the giants topples like a ten-pin with sparks and fluids pouring from its large head.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Star Wars

  nable to prove aliens existed until recently, it's also true that space battles were fantasy or science fiction, at least inside the Milky Way. Today however, history is about to change as Zote and Navi commanders prep for what appears to be an impending war against unidentified spaceships coming directly at the planet. Assumed to be escape vehicles for captured Creators, maybe the most capable and valuable beings in the universe, it's unclear if the invaders are Andromedans or otherwise. Regardless, Navy Seal Commander Richard Jocko readies twelve remaining soldiers plus cross-trained engineers and scientists serving dual roles in the event of catastrophic need.

  Despite the overly impressive ship guided to earth by Zote, on-board weapons were limited to short-range defensive measures using lasers to bust up space debris. Apparently, Creators put more credence in concealment and evasion than preparations for intergalactic war. Now armed with newly fitted Navy direct-energy lasers, guided kinetic tungsten rods, multiple satellite guidance systems, and electromagnetic pulse weaponry, Navi has reasonable odds against foes with unknown capabilities. Peace through strength is about to be tested against alien foes.

  "Bogies are changing flight paths," Billy Goddard reports to Dr. Abraham, the principal mission leader standing on the bridge. "I think they're deploying."

  "Is there any indication they've seen us?" Max Abraham responds calmly, thoughts looking ahead at potential reactions.

  "Nothing bouncing off the hull so far that I can detect. Of course, these are aliens so who knows what they're capable of doing."

  "I'd bet on some type of electromagnetic radiation or radio waveform, Billy," he tells the youthful engineer. "Physical laws can't be that far off. Maybe, they're less advanced in that regard since it's apparent Creators didn't worry about bumping into hostile space travelers. It's gotta be zillion to one odds."

  "I suppose you're right about that, Dr. Abraham," Goddard agrees leaving traces of doubt dangling. An ominous sinking feeling in his gut doesn't fade despite his response.

  "What do you think, Zote?" Abraham queries the robot once picking up Billy's hesitation. "Are we about to be attacked?"

  "Navi cloaking is superior," Zote says matter of fact, his statement implying past analysis. "We will not be attacked unless Navi uncloaks and provokes them. Conflict could jeopardize mutual goals. However, once they realize we have the last Creator, they will likely try reclaiming it. We must be ready to either run or fight."

  "Leaving without our men on board is an abhorrent thought. Computer, when will these unidentified vessels in sector seven be close enough to retrieve Creators and robots?" Abraham queries the interactive IBM voice-activated computing system.

  "Approaching spacecraft are one-point-two million miles away. At current speed, they will orbit in seven hours thirty seven minutes, Dr. Abraham."

  "All of a sudden this space is getting crowded. Zote, do you guess they'll use shuttles that deploy to the surface for extraction?" Abraham wonders aloud, considering options to use ground elements. "How will they retrieve them? Commander Jacko will need to coordinate with ground troops if they land and engage."

  "If they know the Creator was lost to us but alive, then we cannot be sure what they anticipated or brought along," Goddard adds. "Based on what we know about the value of Creators, we should assume the worst and take the first shot. Up to now, our weapons have been superior."

  "I don't agree, Billy, and I'm surprised you feel that way," Abraham grimaces. "Our mission isn't destroying aliens. In fact, I would like to meet them if possible."

  Zote turns to face the mission leader showing solidarity with its only human friend. "Dr. Goddard is avoiding type-two errors, Dr. Abraham. In chess, we call it gambits and your null hypothesis is questionable."

  Abraham ponders what the machine explained. "Failing to reject notions we might be able to negotiate isn't farfetched."

  "Sir, the type-two error is assuming they'll entertain any form of communication; that is if we're able to understand them," Goddard rebounds. "That, in turn, wastes the element of surprise adding additional risk."

  Despite age, Abraham contemplates where the young scientist is leading him. "All right; we'll assume they're hostile until we know otherwise. Let's avoid contact and let Commander Jacko handle them. Saving Creators and safely returning with them is the primary goal, thus we can't risk Navi."

  "Instruments are picking up something enormous moving toward the planet from sector twelve in deep space. Do you know what it is, Zote?" Billy asks his robotic friend.

  Zote scans the digital data streaming on a monitor overhead. "It's a geomagnetic storm caused by a recent supernova, Billy," Zote answers definitively. "We should advise ground personnel to seek shelter. Do you have its bearing?"

  "The base camp is in its path along with most of the planet," Billy sighs, another unforeseen issue reinforcing Murphy's Law.

  Zote looks at Abraham. "We should break radio silence and advise Commander Jocko. There is little time. Speed is almost a thousand miles per second," the robot explains after re-checking instruments.

  "Let's see this storm. Put it on the main screen," Abraham snarls as stress mounts, an additional threat not in the game plan.

  Once seeing a gigantic purple, yellow, and blue billowing streaking cloud including electrostatic bursts casting large shadows over the planet, Abraham immediately agrees. "All right, let's make sure Jocko knows it's not a request. The storm is moving quickly and those bursts must be powerful charges of electricity. What level of damage should we expect, Zote?"

  "Humans caught in the storm cannot survive the high winds, much less flying debris. Mechanical entities will also be lost if in a direct path. We also must move Navi," Zote advises the leader. "If it bounces off the planet and heads our way, we face annihilation."

  "Commander Jocko, come in Commander," Abraham says after punching a communication button directly linking them.

  "Jocko, what's up, Dr. Abraham?"

  "There's an enormous magnetic storm coming from outer space and you're people on the ground are in its path. We need to get them inside structures, preferably underground."

  "Storm sir, why should I worry about bad weather? How big is it?"

  "This isn't a typical storm, Commander. It would make the worst hurricane on Earth seem like a breezy summer day. It's larger than this planet with winds of a thousand of miles per hour. Now, please don't argue. Get your people to safety before they're vaporized. We're going to change orbits in the next few minutes, so get your folks strapped in. This is the real deal."

  "I understand; ok, I'll handle it right away," Jocko responds. "Our team is moving back to the base camp with the Creator but they're miles out; many with serious injuries."

  "Find shelter for them, Commander. Dig holes or find caves. Recall aircraft and get them on the ground. We may lose satellites. Your people can't beat the storm back to the camp and if the Creator is harmed or killed this whole mission is a giant flop."

  "Ten-four, out."

  Mother of All Storms

  Captain Win Jakes and team look up at the darkening, angry sky when word comes with painful details about the impending storm. With half his team injured to various degrees and a few on stretchers after successfully battling the giant machines with the lone surviving Creator, Jakes moves away as the unexpected call from Commander Jocko raises anxiety. After setting down the Creator m
aking sure the little being is comfortable, the large trooper wipes his brow thinking it's strange the leader has moved away from the group, sign of unexpected trouble.

  "The little fella is pointing to the sky," six-foot eight Sergeant Brown tells the others. "I don't think it likes what's up there. It seems agitated or disturbed. Maybe, the call is about it."

  After the team studies the ominous sky in the distance, most ignore the comment and sit on the ground to catch wind once stretching out or leaning against rocks.

  Thirty feet away listening intently to the boss describing what's happening in space including Navi plans to change orbit, Jakes shuts down the satellite phone with revised marching orders. Curiously staring, he addresses the tired soldiers still miles from the base camp.

  "We're ordered to seek shelter from this impending storm. Mingus and Dutch, I want you to find a cave," Jakes says pointing to two uninjured troops. "The rest of us will rest a little longer then begin digging fox holes. Don't get more than ten minutes away," he warns the pair. "I don't want you caught outside when it hits. The storm is moving very rapidly. If you don't find a cave, then double-time back here and help dig."

  "Why are we afraid of a storm? It looks to be a long way off, sir," Dutch complains mildly.

  "It's is a geomagnetic storm traveling a thousand miles an hour and the damn thing is bigger than this planet; that's why. I'm told there's nothing like it on Earth. Now, move out and find a cave. No more than ten minutes then head back. The rest of you unfold shovels and start digging. Make sure they're deep holes."

  "How much time before it hits, sir?" a bandaged soldier lying on a stretcher asks.

  "Maybe thirty minutes; it's hard saying precisely, Corporal."

  "It can't last long at that speed; can it, sir?"

  "If it's bigger than this planet, it could last a lot longer than we think," Jakes answers. "We might be here another day or so? It's going to knock out all communications and Commander Jocko said they may have to leave orbit for a spell to avoid direct hits."

  "Why didn't the Commander send transport for us?" another injured soldier replies. "Some of us need stitching."

  "This storm isn't all we're facing, gentlemen. Two alien spaceships are in route to pick up our package. Once the storm passes, we could be facing another hurdle. We may or may not get help based on what's left standing once the storm passes."

  Shocked troop faces suggest safe return of the Creator won't get easier. "Good news," Jakes anticipates, "is these spaceships might not survive the storm if they don't see it coming or react too slowly. We just have to wait and see. Until then, we're on our own."

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Picture Book

  ortunate finding a cavern a bit more than ten minutes away as the mother of howling, angry storms approaches sounding like a hundred freight trains bearing down, Captain Win Jakes and others are surprised by its fury, duration, and volume. Debris whipping into the cave includes substantial flying rocks and large debris that pulverize against cave entrance walls upon impact. Direct blast of the air takes breath away with bits of sand and dust stinging bare skin. Racket from high winds and exploding rocks leaves everyone glad they made it to safety as numerous bolts of lightning make it seem like they're under attack from God.

  "Is everyone all right?" Jakes say to the soldiers. "I don't see this storm passing anytime soon." Once getting nods from those on stretchers, the leader moves to the small Creator surrounded by Cyborg and Sgt. Brown entrusted with its safety. "Let's try Goddard's picture book," he adds kneeling next to the odd creature noting how its skin is chalky colored, possibly lacking oxygen, vitamins, and nutrients. As the creature stares back with large pleading eyes, probably wondering about its future, Jakes pulls a six-inch flip picture book out of a top pocket. Arranged by Dr. Billy Goddard as way of telling their story, Captain Jakes studies the sad face and begins showing pictures one by one. The first friendly photo of Zote and Cyborg standing on the Navi bridge next to Dr. Abraham and Billy Goddard is followed by one of the giant spaceship parked at Area-51 with humans standing nearby. Next, he shows a picture of Earth followed by an arrow pointing at the planet among others inside the Milky Way.

  As the linear story unfolds including pictures of captured Creator inventions, Jakes wonders if any of it is getting through. Dispirited by lack of emotion or response after twenty or more snapshots, Jakes closes the book assuming it's too young for any sort of non-verbal communication. To his surprise however, the Creator points a finger at the book and murmurs after Jakes stops showing it.

  "Da-ti-ba-sa," it points at the book; "Da-ti-ba-sa."

  Looking at Cyborg, Jakes frowns. "The Creator wants you to continue, Captain," the hybrid explains. "It appears to understand your pictures and appreciates them."

  "Why am I explaining anything if you know what it's saying. Here, you do it," Jakes says passing the book, frustrated by results.

  Once seeing Jakes turn over the reins to the robot, not unlike the ones used for protection, the Creator talks as if welcoming an obvious result of predecessors. "Ve-sa-da-mu; Wuve-me-to-sa-ma," the Creator utters, words not expected by Cyborg. "Vima-ti-sami-tava-ma."

  "The Creator said he wants to learn more about humans," Cyborg elaborates once translating into English. "It is fascinated how weaker beings lead Cyborgs and robots instead of the other way. It wonders if Cyborgs, robots, or humans are in control on your planet. It's not logical unless humans have greater engineering skills."

  Cyborg points to Jakes then shows Dr. Abraham standing in the bridge of Navi. Explaining the big boss lives in the spacecraft, Cyborg indicates Jakes is in charge on the ground. Finally, Cyborg explains that these soldiers, pointing to them, will die protecting it from harm and will return it to the base camp where needed filtered air, supplements, and supplies are stored.

  "How old is it?" Jakes presses Cyborg as others gather around to hear the Creator opening up. "Are all Creators small like this and is it really a child?"

  Once Cyborg converses in length and substantial detail, it's clear the Creator isn't typical of human growth, aging, or maturity. Like animals that stand upon birth versus humans requiring years of care, listeners are awestruck by the alien. After another exhausting, almost frustrating, exchange between the Creator and one of its creations, Cyborg delivers stunning news.

  "This Creator is several months old based on skin texture and color; it won't grow much beyond this point. In its culture, there are no children as you think of them. When born, they perform like any Creator as equals. After a short time, they've developed neural network connections needed to store and utilize vast amounts of information, mostly scientific and mathematical in nature. In the laboratory, complete knowledge transfers latently during short incubations where raw or conceptual learning spawns. They do it this way because Creator life spans are short and there's little time for nurturing as enemies abound."

  "What happened to the other Creators? Does it know?" Jakes wonders.

  "I will ask," Cyborg agrees. Once again, a lengthy exchange between the unlikely pair has everyone mesmerized by the apparent gibberish. After several minutes where the Creator orates at great length using the mind-numbing native language, it presses for more pictures as if getting ice cream for the first time.

  "There are no cameras, pictures, and records in this world," Cyborg addresses the team of soldiers anxious to learn more. "There's no need for clumsy devices with transfer of knowledge bred into Creators akin to DNA. They hold engineering and scientific secrets inside their brains like unopened vaults. For that reason, life is fraught with potential abduction by enemies seeking to steal what they know. It's why Creators built ferocious robots that protect them and why the giants, faced on the mountain, were even larger. As to location of other Creators, it's unknown, but the fact they're back to get this one suggests that if they had any, they died in captivity."

  "Ask if it knows where this enemy originates? Who or what are they?"

  Once Cyborg
explains the question in Andromeda terms, the Creator eyes Captain Jakes. "The Creator thinks you are sincere Captain and enjoys your superficial questions."

  "I hope that works in our favor," Jakes frowns, unsure if he should feel sad or glad about the qualifier.

  "It doesn't know where this enemy originates," Cyborg continues. "They arrive on vessels outside the galaxy but the location, like Earth, is unknown. Creators have not seen humans; you are the first. It appreciates that you handled the enemy robots. It said despite size and limited brains, humans are fearless fighters with powerful tools. It learned much by the way you handled them, though it wonders why you did not choose using your tools instead of fighting without them. It appears the robots, like Zote, were protecting them at first though destroyed by the invaders. It mentioned a new device that could explain how Creator robots were defeated."

  "You said before this Creator was bred in a lab? Is it male or female and where are its parents?"

  "Labs are used to enhance and transfer knowledge but Creators are not male or female, nor do they have parents; there is no distinction of sexes. Self-reproduction is their life cycle based on proximity to death. When Creators are born, it's a rare and unplanned event, a logical breeding process to keep them alive. Over-population isn't an issue and inter-culture breeding doesn't happen. They are a sophisticated and pure race of beings without desire to conquer or to kill. Up until several hundred years ago, they hadn’t faced extinction or needed to worry about enemies."