Invaders Page 9
“Active deception in the line of duty is no crime,” he said.
“So you did lie to me.”
“I practiced caution. If it puts you at ease, know that I have a limited ability to scan my surroundings. That is how I see.”
“Okay,” I said. “By the way, do you have a name?”
“I do. It is YTR-129987-Q233-78B.”
“Uh…that’s too long for me to say every time. Is it okay if I call you Rax?”
“Because I am from Rax Prime?” he asked.
“It’s like calling a guy from Texas Tex.”
“I am familiar with the concept.”
“I’m glad to hear it,” I said. “I’m ready to get started any time you are, Rax.”
“Then you may proceed by taking five steps to your left.”
I followed Rax’s instructions as the Unguls continued to make clangs and clanks in the distance. Then, I heard a muffled explosion. The floor shook for several seconds, followed by rumbling.
“What are they doing?” I whispered.
“In my estimation they are blasting and drilling for the master chamber.”
“Do you know what’s in the master chamber?”
“I do not,” Rax said. “Go left three steps…”
Soon, I felt a draft, and I began shivering. Five minutes later, my teeth began chattering.
“Stop,” Rax said later. “Rotate your body fifty degrees to your right. Now, take seven steps forward. Halt. I am about to give you precise instructions. It is important you follow them exactly. First, you must set me down.”
“Why?”
“We do not have time for extended explanations. If you wish to be warm, follow my parameters—”
“Sure,” I said. “Keep talking. I’m sick of being cold.”
The unit made a clicking noise as I set him on something metallic. From there, Rax instructed me. I moved backward, lay down—
Something soft but unyielding clamped onto my arms, legs and torso.
“Rax,” I said. “What’s happening? I’m confined to a table.”
“Do you remember that I spoke of physical adjustments earlier? Some of the procedures could be painful. You must endure in silence. Otherwise—”
I didn’t hear the rest, as a needle stabbed me. It sank much too deeply. I squirmed, wanting to howl, but managed to bite down on my lips before I did.
The table rose as the needle pulled out. Something smothered my face. I panicked, tried to jerk free and inhaled something sweet smelling. I realized there was a mask covering my mouth and nose. It seemed to be a breathing mask.
As I assessed that, the table turned upside down and went down. I splashed into a sludgy substance. I shivered at the cold. I think electricity might have surged through the solution, and I felt as if I were bathed in fire.
What had the little crystal done to me?
My recollections became fuzzy after the electrical discharges. I must have dreamed the rest. I could see my reflection in glass as a soft glow bathed a Frankenstein chamber of horrors. I wore a mask in the dream while I floated in a green solution. Needles with tubes behind them zeroed in on me, driving into my flesh like mini-torpedoes. More electricity struck me. I lost sight of the reflection. In the dream, my body became rigid in agony. Fire roamed throughout my body. It burned away dross and did something to my cells. Cold, heat, stretching and compaction seemed to be remolding my flesh like clay. I wasn’t in the hands of God, but some demonic monster trying to replicate the creation of Eden. Instead of receiving the breath of life, a gust of searing agony made my fingers tingle and my toes pulsate with the change.
What was the change?
I had no idea, but I in my nightmare I seemed to recollect the little bastard’s words.
I hated the Galactic Guard. I hated the crystals from Rax Prime. I hated the Unguls who had intruded upon my life in Nevada. I wanted to hunt them all, drive them all from my planet. By what right had they come down onto our dirt ball, as the Unguls had called it?
Finally, the nightmare ended and I slept the sleep of pure exhaustion.
Too soon, I stirred, my eyelids twitching. I heard the former clangs and clacks. I felt the rumble and heard what sounded like gigantic drills, no doubt burrowing into the earth.
I realized I was awake somewhere in the dark in this labyrinth-like underground madhouse.
“Logan?” Rax said.
“What?”
“You survived the treatment. I suspect you will be glad to know that that considerably heightens our odds of success.”
I sat up in the dark, ready to destroy the living crystal. The only thing that gave me pause was that I was far hungrier than when I’d fallen for Rax’s trap.
Trap! I felt around and picked him up.
“Give me a reason why I shouldn’t smash you into pieces,” I said.
“I admit I practiced a deceptive tactic,” Rax said. “Before my agent’s demise, we believed we had stumbled upon the machine’s purpose. It was and is quite ingenious. If he was correct, you are considerably tougher than before.”
“If?” I asked. “You mean you don’t know exactly what the machine did to me?”
“I am still in the middle of an investigation,” Rax said. “I took a risk for the good of the team.”
“I took the risk, you little bastard.”
“We both took risks in different degrees. Without you, it is possible the Guard investigation will fail. That is a first order magnitude disaster. You merely risked your own life.”
“Yeah, but it’s my life!”
“I do not understand the thrust of your philosophical assertion.”
“We don’t have time for this,” I snarled. “I’m still naked, weaponless and hungry. And I feel as if I’m going to faint from fatigue.”
“Then we must clothe you and reach a food source,” Rax said. “If you would turn left forty degrees and sprint seventy-nine steps as rapidly as you can…”
I followed the crystal’s instructions, fully expecting to bang my shins against something at any moment.
“Be ready to halt in seven steps,” he said.
I slid to a stop.
“Take two steps forward. Stop. Rotate to your left ninety degrees…”
Rax spoke and I followed the byzantine instructions. Finally, without warning, an electrical discharge sparked from Rax to a receiver on a wall. That caused a locker-sized section of the wall to slide up. Several uniforms hung in there.
I couldn’t see anything after the spark died away. Fumbling in the darkness, I felt one-piece uniforms. Picking the one that seemed the largest, I shoved my feet into it. The fabric stretched but didn’t feel binding. I sealed it by pressing the halves against each other. It seemed as if the fabric bonded together and to my skin, covering me from my neck to my toes. It was thin, but I no longer felt the bite of cold.
“There is footwear in the bottom,” Rax said.
Sure enough, there was. I doubted the shoes would fit, but what the heck, I tried them on. The substance was tougher than the fabric, but it also stretched, fitting to each foot.
“How does that feel?”
“Surprisingly good,” I told him. “Now, what about the food you’ve been promising?”
“You will begin by rotating to your right and walking…”
-18-
The food was in a bin. I’d torn off the lid and begun eating. It was stale, dry and crunchy, but I ate it ravenously, one handful after another. I had no idea what it was. Frankly, it reminded me of dry dog food but went down like kettle corn-flavored popcorn.
My stomach bulged and still I devoured the stuff. I felt as if I could eat until the last trumpet sounded.
“Water,” I said, with a mouthful of the crunchy food and with crumbs spilling from my lips.
“There is some two feet to your right.”
I reached over in the dark, picking up a sloshing container. The water was metallic-tasting, but I guzzled it as if I’d just finished a marathon.
; I don’t recall ever having eaten like this before. With each handful, some of my weariness departed. It felt as if my body had already taken the sustenance I shoveled down and begun using it like building-block material.
I continued crunching one handful after another, interspacing them with more guzzling. I realized I’d been working in a mental fog for some time. My mental acuity now sharpened with startling speed.
I lowered a palm of crunchy bits, facing the direction I’d last heard the crystal speak.
“What did the electrical bath do to me?”
“It strengthened you,” Rax said, “and made you more resistant to sickness.”
“Will I heal faster?”
“I believe so.”
“How?”
“It induced cellular changes within you. To be precise, you have leaped several millennia ahead of your fellow primitives in evolutionary development.”
“And that makes me hungrier than ever?”
“You are now burning up your bodily resources quicker than before as your internal systems effect repairs.”
“That doesn’t make me more evolved. I used to be a general pattern human, able to survive in a host of environments. Now—”
“You are more specialized,” Rax said. “But the specialization will improve your chances of surviving the Unguls.”
I thought about that as I continued eating and drinking. Abruptly, I became full. I should have been drowsy after eating like that. Instead, I felt invigorated, positively hopping with energy.
“Something has been bothering me,” I said. “This place is ancient. Your agent’s bones were ancient. Yet, you claim your Guard-ship landed recently.”
“I spoke about incongruities,” Rax said.
“So…what are you suggesting? This evil intellect caused your agent to age several millennia in a manner of moments?”
“I wonder if the intellect did so while my agent used the transporter. Our scientists have not yet discovered all the ramifications to teleportation.”
“Wait. Are you suggesting this intelligence has been around since the time of the hominids?”
“I am unfamiliar with your time scales or hominid theories, but you seem to be implying a great stretch of time regarding the intelligence.”
“That’s right.”
“If you had listened more closely, you would realize that I have suggested nothing of the kind. Perhaps the malignant intelligence can hold itself in suspended animation for long time periods, only resurfacing at pre-selected intervals.”
“Why would this mysterious being do this?”
“That is an excellent question, Logan. Discovering motivation is halfway to solving a mystery. However, we should discuss this later, as our present position is too exposed. The longer we are in this upper area, the more likely it is that the Unguls will discover our presence. We must use surprise against them, as surprise is a force multiplier. We will need serious advantages if we are going to reenergize the ship.”
“Marines know all about force multipliers,” I said.
“That is thoroughly reasonable,” Rax said. “As that is one of the first sciences primitive peoples uncover.”
“What’s the plan?”
“A surprise assault on their main drilling operation,” Rax said.
“That seems too risky,” I said.
“The drillers contain power cells convertible to the Guard-ship’s energy requirements. We will also need the drillers to reach the ship. Without the ship, we will remain helpless against the Unguls and the Organizer. With the ship, I can contact the Guard vessel in Jupiter orbit. That should end the crisis for Earth’s aboriginals.”
“All right,” I said. “But I’ll need weapons if we’re going to attack the Unguls.”
“I agree,” Rax said. “Unfortunately, here is where the process becomes tricky…”
***
I crawled through what must have been an access tube, a very tight-fitting one. If I inhaled too deeply, that expanded my chest too far and halted all progress.
I kept Rax in a front pocket, navigating the maze at his directions while taking shallow breaths.
Finally, I reached a grate blocking my way. I tried to push it off, but something held the grate in place.
“Can you reverse your position so you can use your feet to kick it off?” Rax asked.
“Not bloody likely,” I said.
“Then I suggest you bash the grate off with your fists.”
“I’ll break my fingers and maybe my knuckles if I do that.”
“Once, that might have been true. That is no longer the case.”
“You’re saying my bones have hardened?” I asked.
“That is correct.”
I thought about that and the amount of dry food I’d eaten. Had I needed sustenance to complete…whatever the bath had started with me?
“Bashing my fists against the grate will shred my flesh.”
“Your flesh will heal.”
“You’re crazy if you think I’m going pulverize my hands for you.”
“Unless you have another method,” Rax said, “you must follow my suggestion to break through into the needed chamber.”
I crawled up a bit more, braced my body, put my palms on the grate and pushed as hard as I could. My body slipped backward. I re-braced myself and tried it again.
The screws, bolts, whatever, began to creak and groan. Then, the grate shifted under the pressure. But in the end, I lacked the strength to shove the screws out of the metal wall.
“Sudden force applied in judicious locations should force the grate off the wall,” Rax said.
I closed my eyes, breathing deeply as I thought about that. Could Rax be right about my bones? How could a short electrical bath have changed me so fundamentally?
“Is my flesh denser than before?” I asked.
“Not categorically so,” the crystal answered.
I repositioned myself. It was hard in the narrow confines of the tube. Finally, I managed to draw my arm back. I punched ahead of me. It was awkward, much less forceful than I would have liked and exceedingly painful.
“This isn’t going to work,” I said between clenched teeth.
“You are holding back. You must attack the grate by hammering it off. Do not worry about your hands.”
“You’re not the one feeling the pain.”
“You are the active unit, I am the control unit. You must excel in this physical endeavor or you will fail to break into the chamber. Your planet could face dire consequences if the Organizer is allowed to continue his depredations unchallenged.”
I decided Rax was right. So, I kept hammering at the grate. Each blow hurt as much as you’d imagine striking solid metal would be. I cut my flesh, bled and moaned after repeated blows. I became claustrophobic and, barely controlling the panic, used it to hit the grate harder and harder.
Suddenly, the metal flew off the wall. It fell and clanged against the floor.
I collapsed, keeping my aching, bleeding hands in front of me.
“There is no time to rest,” Rax said. “We must collect weapons and return through the tube.”
My hands throbbed and tingled. I’d felt a similar sensation as a kid when I’d almost frozen my hands by digging tunnels in the snow, really deep tunnels. Finally, the tunnels had collapsed on me. I’d dug my way out, but my mittens had thoroughly soaked through. My fingers had been icy cold. As they had thawed out in the house, they had tingled as they did now deep in the Greenland complex.
I huddled in a corner, keeping my hands in front of my body. The pain subsided shortly. I wondered what the flesh of my knuckles looked like. I wouldn’t have been surprised if I had indentations on my bones.
“Your breathing has become even,” Rax said. “That should mean you are ready for the next phase of the operation.”
“Can you scan my hands?”
“Yes,” he said, sounding reluctant to answer.
“Are they going to be okay?”
“Everything is healed?” I asked.
“No. But your hands are functional. You need to begin collecting weapons and power cells.”
I stood, gingerly moving my fingers. I wasn’t ready to feel the torn flesh yet. If I had to do it over, I don’t think I could have started bashing the grille again.
“What am I looking for?” I asked.
“I have already found the weapons. You must merely collect them, transport the lot through the access tube and we can move into our assault position.”
“Fine,” I said. “Are we gathering rayguns?”
“I am unfamiliar with your terminology. You will take a Class III Pulse Rifle, a satchel of energy cells, another of shock sticks, a force knife and a resonator.”
“What in the heck is a resonator?”
“I will need it later to recalibrate the alien energy cells for the ship.”
“The Ungul rayguns are better than any pulse rifle,” I said.
“Do you mean the Class IV Disintegrator Ejector?”
“I guess so.”
“The ejector is a viable close-quarters weapon. For our requirements, it is too short-ranged.”
“Where do I find this arsenal anyway?” I asked.
I followed the crystal’s instructions, and soon found myself loaded down with his laundry list of war-fighting equipment. I shoved it all into the access tube, suppressed my shivering and climbed back in.
For the next ten minutes, I slid the rifle and pouches ahead of me.
“Wait,” I said, pausing at an access junction. “You’re giving me different directions. We didn’t come in this way.”
“That is an amazingly astute observation. You have a keen sense of direction. Do you feel this is due to your conversion, or did you possess this directional sense in your former state?”
“Why are you changing our route?” I asked.
“There is nothing nefarious about it, if that is your concern. We are moving toward our assault position. If sensations of fear are dampening your resolve—”
“I’m in,” I said. “Don’t worry about me. I’ve been waiting for a chance to hit back at the Unguls. I feel like I’m in a horror movie, and one key thing in those is to hit back as hard as you can instead of running away in terror.”