World Killer: A Sci-Fi Action Adventure Novel

by Barry J. Hutchison

  With a grunt of irritation, Hath turned away. “Step back,” he said, then, in a louder voice: “Medipod.”

  The floor beneath Daryl heaved, forcing him to spring to his feet. The black material oozed over the pilot, whose breathing came in panicky rasps as the cocoon sealed shut around him.

  Another section of wall parted at Hath’s approach. He reached in and withdrew a silver canister, no bigger than a Thermos flask.

  “What’s that?” Daryl asked.

  “It’s a container.”

  “I can see that. A container for what?”

  “Tea?” Riley guessed.

  “You have no word for them in your language,” Hath said, ignoring her. He pressed the end of the canister into the gloopy mass that covered the pilot.

  “They are a semi-sentient nanotechnology swarm,” Hath continued. The cocoon rippled, pulling the container inside. “They will carry out biological repairs at the atomic level.”

  “So… it’s something that’ll fix him?” asked Riley.

  “See for yourself,” Hath said. “Visuals.”

  Once more, the ship seemed to disappear. Ash panicked and made a grab for the floor as if he could catch it before it vanished completely. Daryl felt his stomach lurch but did his best to ignore it.

  With the whole ship invisible, they could all see the pilot lying in his pod. His arms were pinned to his sides and his body was completely rigid. But it was the wound on his face that held everyone’s attention.

  Bone grew. Flesh knitted together. Skin follicles were painted on, building up layer after layer on his rapidly repairing face.

  “He’s healing,” said Ash. “He’s just… healing.”

  Daryl leaned in and squinted. “There’s something there,” he said. “Like… little black dots. They’re rebuilding his face.”

  Riley looked more closely. “Well, I can’t see anything,” she said.

  For Daryl, there was no mistaking them. They weaved and swarmed across the pilot’s face, leaving trails of rebuilt bone, flesh, and skin in their wake. They reminded him of the tiny baby spiders he’d often see on a rotten log in his back garden, scurrying around much faster than their size suggested they should be able to. The spider-babies had been orangey-red, though, while these things were a metallic black. And smaller. Much, much smaller.

  “They’re there,” Daryl said. “They’re really tiny little dots. I can’t… Dots. I don’t know how else to explain it.”

  As he watched, Daryl became aware of just how tiny the things were. His eyes had zoomed in on them, but they were smaller than he should have been able to see without a microscope. Perhaps even smaller still.

  “Eyesight: Ten,” he whispered. Ash glanced at him for a moment, then down at the ground several hundred feet below.

  “Can we put the floor back?” he said. “Please?”

  “End visuals,” Hath said, and the wounded pilot was once again covered as the ship’s floor and walls returned.

  “Dotdocs,” said Riley. Both Daryl and Ash turned to look at her.

  “What?” Daryl asked.

  “Dotdocs. Hath said there’s no name for them in our language. Dotdocs.” She smiled proudly. “They’re like doctors, only they’re dots.”

  Ash scowled. “Lame.”

  “OK, well, what would you call them?” Riley asked.

  Ash thought. “Uh… Medi Specks.”

  Riley let out a burst of staccato laughter. “That’s a terrible name.”

  “It’s an awesome name.”

  Daryl shook his head. “It makes them sound like special glasses.”

  Riley screwed up her eyes and began patting the pockets of her black uniform. “Ooh, what have I done with me Medi Specs? I can’t see a thing without them.”

  Ash held up his hands. “I swear to God, I’ll shoot both you in the face right now. Medi Specks is a way better name than--”

  The gloop squirmed away and the pilot sat up with a strangled cry, almost making Daryl, Ash, and Riley jump out of their skins. He scrambled to his feet, one hand held protectively in front of him, his eyes fleeting across the teenagers, then fixing on Hath.

  His jaw dropped. His hand shook. He backed away, keeping a hand raised. “Wh-who are you? What’s going on?”

  “It’s OK,” soothed Riley. “Relax, we’re not going to hurt you.”

  “You’re… you’re… What is that thing?” the pilot asked.

  Hath’s face darkened. “This thing just saved your life.”

  “What’s your name?” Riley asked.

  The question seemed to snap the pilot to attention. He straightened up. The lines on his weathered face grew deeper and more defined. When his voice came, it was a sharp bark. “Sergeant Jonathan Green. FR19478.”

  Riley frowned. “Say what now?”

  “Sergeant Jonathan Green. FR19478.”

  “Name, rank, and number,” said Ash. “It's what they're supposed to say. When they're taken prisoner.”

  He saw the others looking at him. “What? I know stuff. We did it in an episode of Band Camp Bad Boys.”

  Even the name of Ash's terrible TV show made Daryl grimace.

  “He's not a prisoner,” Daryl said. “You're not a prisoner.”

  “Sergeant Jonathan Green. FR19478.”

  Hath growled. “Enough of this. Get off my ship.” His fingers swiped across the floating keyboard. Sergeant Green looked down as his body began to shimmer.

  “Nice meeting you,” said Riley, but before she could finish the sentence, the pilot was no longer on board.

  Ash stepped into the space the pilot had just occupied. He swished his arms around, searching for him. “What just happened? Did you vaporize him?”

  “Why would I waste valuable resources only to ‘vaporize him’? I returned him to his headquarters.”

  “This is nuts,” mumbled Ash, running his hands through his three-hundred-dollar haircut. “This is just… this is too nuts.”

  Riley rolled her eyes. “Wow, you really are going to just freak out about every little thing, aren’t you?”

  “Yes! Yes, I am! Is that OK with everyone?” Ash barked.

  Daryl tutted. “I forgot to ask him if he had a daughter.”

  “It’s irrelevant,” dismissed Hath.

  Riley flopped down onto a chair that bloomed up beneath her. “He’s bound to. He was a very attractive man.” She smiled shyly, as if suddenly remembering the others were there. “You know, for an old guy.”

  Daryl bent and picked up the silver canister. There were now dozens of small holes in one end, making it look like a large silver salt shaker. He peered inside and gave it a shake, then studied the floor at his feet. “Where are the Dotdocs?”

  “You mean the semi-sentient nano…” Hath looked across the faces of the three teenagers. He sighed. “Oh, what’s the point? The Dotdocs. We’ll call them that.”

  “Yes!” said Riley. “Score one for the naming brigade.”

  She held up a hand for a high five. Several seconds later, she realized nobody was taking her up on it and lowered it again. She cleared her throat. “Continue.”

  “They’re depleted,” Hath said. “They can only be used once.”

  “Are you kidding me?” said Ash. “They’re gone? What if something happens to me? What if I get hurt?”

  “However would we cope?” Daryl muttered.

  Ash spun, chest out, shoulders back, squaring up. “You got a problem with me, man?”

  Hath stepped in before Daryl could reply. He loomed over Ash. “Sit. Down.”

  Ash tried to stand his ground, but Hath took one sudden lunging step toward him. Panicked, Ash stumbled backward, only for the floor to reach up and catch him like a cupped hand. The strangeness of it snapped Ash back to the most pressing issue of the day.

  “Who the Hell are you people? I swear to God you’d better take me home right now, or… I won’t be responsible for what I do.”

  “We saved your life,” Daryl reminded him.

/>   “You nearly blew my head off!”

  “No, you nearly blew your head off,” Riley pointed out. “We stopped you. You’re welcome.”

  “Enough. Explanations are coming. First, we must return to base.” Hath strode to the front of the ship, then gestured for Daryl to join him. “Watch me. You need the experience.”

  “How come he gets to fly it?” Ash demanded.

  Riley flashed him an encouraging smile. “Maybe we’ll find something you’re good at, and you can do that. That’ll be nice for you, won’t it?”

  Ash scowled and wriggled down into the seat. “Shut the Hell up,” he mumbled.

  Up front, Hath gestured gently with his hands. Daryl felt a slight shifting underfoot as Yufo banked to the left. He waited until the alien had completed the maneuver before speaking.

  “Thanks.”

  “For what?”

  “The pilot. For saving him.”

  Hath’s nostrils flared in response, but he said nothing. Daryl opened his mouth to speak, then changed his mind and closed it again.

  “What now?” Hath asked.

  “What? No, nothing,” said Daryl. “It’s just… the pilot. Did I really do that? Did I, you know, catch him?”

  “You tell me.”

  Daryl looked down at his hands. “I don’t know.”

  Hath turned to him for the first time since calling him up to the front. “Yes, you do.” He returned his attention to the shimmering green controls.

  Daryl tugged at the cuff of his black military uniform. It felt real, but he knew that on some level it was still the red bodysuit. He shook his head. Just one more impossible thing in an impossible day.

  “I was at school a few hours ago,” he said.

  “And now you aren’t,” said Hath. “But if it’s an education you want, then pay attention. You need to know how to fly the ship.”

  “Why?”

  Hath gazed down at him again. “Because everyone’s lives will soon depend on it.”

  Daryl glanced back at the others. “Everyone?”

  With a wave of his hand, Hath conjured a holographic ball floating in the air in front of them. It took Daryl half a second to recognize it as the Earth. With a flick of his wrist, Hath sent the globe spinning. As Daryl watched, the land masses grew darker and the seas boiled away, as if the whole planet were being cooked.

  Daryl met Hath’s eyes and felt his stomach knot as he realized what the alien meant.

  “Oh,” he whispered. “Everyone.”

  Fourteen

  Despite having only been there once before, there was something reassuringly familiar about the place as Daryl stepped through Yufo’s door and onto the platform of the underground station.

  Riley hopped through next. She swung her arms wide and called “We’re baaaack!” at the top of her voice. The sound echoed off the dirty tiles and faded posters, before rolling away along the tunnels.

  Ash poked his head out of the ship and looked the station up and down. “Where are we? The 1970s?”

  “Those are First World War posters,” Daryl pointed out. Ash stared at him, blankly. Daryl shook his head. “Forget it. Yeah, it’s the 1970s. Well done.”

  Hath put a hand on Ash’s back and nudged him onward. There was no force behind it, but Ash made a show of stumbling onto the platform. “Hey, watch it!”

  He spotted the tangle of twisted metal sitting near the ticket booth. “Is that a truck?”

  “Part of a truck,” Riley said. “Long story.”

  “The PPA had me tied up in it. Riley and Hath rescued me,” explained Daryl.

  Riley shrugged. “I mean, you know, not that long.”

  Ash threw up his arms. “Blah, blah, blah. Everyone just shut up!” he said. “Tell me what all this is about right now, or I swear to God I’ll… do something.”

  “What is your problem?” said Daryl. He wasn’t big on confrontation, but something about Ash brought it out in him. “We saved you. We rescued you from a prison cell, where people were going to do… I don’t know what. We all want answers, but have a bit of patience.”

  “Ash Stone is right,” said Hath. “The time for an explanation is overdue.”

  Daryl felt himself deflate. “Right. Yes. I mean… about time, too.”

  “Well, go on. Explain,” said Ash, folding his arms across his chest.

  Hath glanced across all three faces. For the first time since Daryl had met him, the alien’s stern expression became… something else. Not quite nervous, but not too far away.

  “When you were children, I abducted you.”

  Daryl glanced across to Riley, but Hath had her undivided attention.

  “Wait, wait,” said Ash. “How old were we? Was I?”

  “You were five years old,” Hath said. “All of you.”

  Ash’s eyes went wide. “Jesus, that was you?” he said. “Three days. I was missing for three days, my parents were going out of their minds, my sister thought I was dead, and that was you? What kind of freak are you?”

  “You… why?” Daryl asked.

  “Weren’t you listening, pal? Because he’s a sick freak, that’s why!” said Ash. “Isn’t it obvious? Jesus Christ.”

  Riley shook her head. “No. That wasn’t it. It wasn’t like that. He had a reason.”

  Ash laughed. “Oh, did he? Did he? Awesome! I cannot wait to hear this.” He cocked his head and shot Hath a piercing look. “Well? Spill. Reveal all. Tell us why you kidnapped three little kids. I’m all ears.”

  “Because I needed to prepare you,” Hath said.

  “Prepare us? You needed to prepare us?” snorted Ash. “Prepare us for what?”

  Hath’s voice was calm and measured, but it seemed to echo off the station’s cracked tiles. “Prepare you for war.”

  He held his hands in front of him and swept them apart. A shimmering light show appeared in the air. Daryl could make out stars and planets, none of them familiar.

  “I am not of your world,” said Hath.

  “Really? You don’t say,” Ash muttered.

  “My world was—is—a planet by the name of Skalgorth,” Hath continued. The hologram zoomed in slightly on a sphere floating alone through deep space. Daryl took a step closer, but the image was still too far away to make out any of the planet’s details. “It was the shining light of its galaxy, harboring greater knowledge and advancements than in all the other solar systems combined.”

  Ash sighed and shifted his weight impatiently. “Great. Sounds awesome. What’s it got to do with us?”

  “The means by which this knowledge was acquired was… controversial,” Hath continued. “We stole it. Or rather, he did.”

  The image swirled and became a rotating 3D model of an armored figure, his face concealed behind a helmet that looked like a leering skull. Something about him made the hairs stand up on the back of Daryl’s neck. Beside him, Riley took a half-step backward away from the image.

  “Who is that?” Daryl asked.

  “He is the High Ruler of Skalgorth,” Hath said. “But he goes by another title. The World Killer.”

  Hath paused, letting the words sink in. With a sweep of his hand, the figure vanished, and the outer space scene returned.

  “Skalgorth was rich with knowledge and technology because he took it. He descended on other planets, on other solar systems, and he stripped them of everything they had. Of everything they were.”

  Riley spoke, but it came out as a croak. She tried again. “Why?”

  “Because he could,” Hath shrugged. “Because he believed it was his right, as it was the right of his father, and of his father before him.”

  He gazed into the middle distance. “And because no one could stop him.”

  “This is all great. Awesome. Really fascinating stuff,” said Ash. “But—again—what’s this got to do with us?”

  While Ash was speaking, Daryl took another step closer to the hologram. Something about the image of Skalgorth bothered him. His eyes scanned the area around it
, searching for something he realized wasn’t there.

  “There’s no sun,” he said. “Skalgorth. It isn’t orbiting anything. It’s just out in space on its own. There’s no sun.”

  Hath gave a single nod. “Over the centuries, Skalgorth has been adapted. Changed. Its warmth now comes from within its core—millions of powerful fusion engines providing limitless energy, turning the entire planet into the largest spacecraft in the universe. Its light is generated by a series of artificial low-orbit suns that bathe the planet in endless day.”

  Daryl blinked. “The whole planet moves?”

  “It does,” Hath said. “When the World Killer identifies a new world to conquer, he brings all of Skalgorth with him.”

  His jaw clenched. “And now he is bringing it here.”

  A hush descended, the only sound was the distant thunder of trains somewhere in the tunnel network. Daryl, Riley, and Ash exchanged glances, as the enormity of what Hath had said sunk in.

  “What will he do?” Riley asked. “When he gets here?”

  “Anything he desires,” Hath said. “He will ravage this world, taking what he wants, destroying that which he has no interest in.”

  Ash stepped forward. “We should tell the army. The CIA, or those guys, the PPA or whoever, we should tell them. Warn them. They can kick his ass back to where it came from.”

  “They are no match for the armies of Skalgorth. I have seen worlds centuries more advanced than this one, fall in a matter of hours. No force on Earth would be able to stop him. Which is why I needed you three.”

  “Us?” said Daryl. “Why us?”

  “Because you were available,” Hath said. “Because you were convenient. I saw you, all three of you, alone and unprotected. And so, I took you. And I changed you.”

  Ash stared at his hands. “You gave us superpowers.”

  “A naïve interpretation, but not far from the truth. I spliced your genes with those of other species,” Hath said. “I took DNA of races far more powerful and gifted, and I merged it with your own.”

  Daryl gasped. “You made us aliens?”

  “I made you better. I made you more,” Hath said. “And I made you the only hope of stopping the World Killer before he claims this planet as his latest prize.”