Red Vengeance

by Brendan DuBois

  Laughton says, “Get away from that cabinet, Henry.”

  Dad says, “Or what, Phil? Do I need to remind you that I outrank you when it comes to Creeper intelligence activities? You have physical control of this Creeper, ensuring it’s kept alive, protected, and is not allowed to escape. You can also work to learn what you can about its language and other activities. But it’s the post-war National Intelligence Cooperative that has overall control of this thing, and that means me.”

  Dad flips open the small door to the cabinet. “And if you don’t want to get all paperwork and procedure on me, I’ll remind you that above me is a company of very experienced and very pissed-off combat soldiers, who believe an intelligence failure crisped some of their fellow soldiers a couple of days ago. Bear that in mind, Phil, will you? Before doing something you’ll regret.”

  Laughton looks like if he had the capability—because I’m sure he has the desire—he’d open up that closed-off room next door and toss us all in with the Creeper and see what happens. But as red as his face is, and as clenched as his jaw is as well, he says, “Very well.”

  Paternoster says, “Colonel, please, this is—”

  “Enough, Major,” he says, letting out a resigned breath. “Colonel Knox has the lead here. Let’s see what hole he marches into.”

  “Phil, you’re an officer and gentleman…still.” Dad reaches into the cabinet, flips a couple of switches, and there’s a burst of static from speakers in the ceiling. Dad says, “You folks recording?”

  “The minute you got in here,” Laughton says. “Everything’s been recorded.”

  “All right,” Dad says. To me he says, “Sergeant, go ahead.”

  I turn to Serena and say, “Can you…do you have the codes to get Buddy to translate?”

  “Yes, I do,” she says.

  “Will you do it?”

  She says, “Are you asking, Randy? Is that it?”

  I’m confused. “Yes, I’m asking. That’s what I’m doing.”

  She wipes at her eyes. “Good. Because if it was anyone else, anyone that I think might have a connection with Hoyt Cranston”—and she stares at Laughton—“I would tell Buddy the codes that would freeze him out, and to hell with the people who helped kill my dad.”

  I slip my hand into hers. It’s soft and warm. I give it a tug. “This is for me, Serena. And for your dad. And for you and Buddy.”

  She says, “Then I’m ready.”

  * * *

  Now we’re standing in a line in front of the Creeper, and my legs start shaking. Earlier it was okay, knowing the bug behind there could barely see me, and couldn’t hear me, but now…now I’m going to start talking to it. There have been stories and tales about Creepers being able to hypnotize or otherwise command military units to surrender through their voices, and I think those stories are horseshit, but still, my legs keep on quivering.

  “Ready?” I ask.

  Serena takes Buddy’s hand and moves around, so he can see her. “Buddy? Hon? Listen up, please. Buddy, Authorization Pappa Hotel Pappa. Pappa Hotel Pappa. Randy”—she reaches out and tugs me to stand next to her. “Randy…Buddy, Authorization Delta. Authorization Delta.”

  Buddy slowly turns his head and looks at me. I say, “What did you just mean with those code phrases?”

  Serena says, “I told Buddy that he’s to translate, and that you would be the one talking to him.”

  “But Serena…you just heard. We’re being recorded.”

  “Big deal. Unless the codes come from me…or my dad…” She pauses, swallows, goes on. “If the codes don’t come from me, and if they aren’t said in the right pattern, then Buddy freezes. Won’t talk. But Randy…don’t waste time. Sometimes my brother, sometimes he talks…and then just stops. Please. Start.”

  I nod. “Buddy?”

  “Yeah?” and my arms start quivering now, for the voice coming out of that twelve-year-old boy is like that of a tired old man.

  “Buddy, ask the Creeper his name. Or her name.”

  He turns and raises his voice, and what comes out are the clicks, sputters, and whirling sounds, and the Creeper on the other side stops moving. Its eyestalks lean forward, like it’s trying to see what’s what behind the glass.

  Buddy stops talking.

  Serena has his hand, and without saying anything, I take his left hand. No one else in the room is saying anything.

  I wait. Is this going to be a waste of time?

  The Creeper speech comes out loud and crisp through the speakers, making me jump, and the crackling noises go on, and then just as suddenly stops.

  In a clear voice, Buddy says, “Who are you to…blank…ask?”

  I say, “Serena, what does blank mean?”

  “It means that Buddy’s hearing a word he can’t understand.”

  I squeeze Buddy’s rough hand. “We are the ones who have captured you.”

  Crackle, sputter, cough, crackle.

  The Creeper replies.

  Buddy: “I am ready to give up…blank…to perform my…blank…Are you?”

  Despite the gaps, I know exactly what the bug is saying. I answer, “Every hour, every day, sweetie.”

  An exchange of conversation, and Buddy says: “Blank…blank.” And I practically gasp when he says to me, “Sorry, Randy. I didn’t understand the last bit. But based on the pitch of her voice, I think whatever she said was meant to be a joke, something humorous. Or something dismissive. Perhaps arrogant.”

  “Uh…thanks, Buddy.”

  But he turns to look at the thick glass, like he hadn’t just talked to me. I shake my head. This isn’t going where I want. I say, “Ask her, why are they here? Why?”

  More moments pass as I wait for the answer to the question that has bedeviled humanity for a decade. Buddy says, “Because my…blank failed me…and I was removed…and taken to this…blank…this space.”

  “No,” I say. “Why are the Creepers here? Why did they come to this planet? Why did they make war on us?”

  Laughton, Dad and Paternoster are now standing behind us. I’m hot, sweating, feeling constricted by my Firebiter vest and the jacket I’m wearing.

  Buddy says, “We did not make war…we…blank. You are…arrogant. You needed to be…blank. For you are to be humbled…this is not war…this is…blank. In this…we have failed…”

  I say, “Buddy, have her explain that. What does it mean, that they’ve failed?”

  More to and fro in the clicks and clatters, and I have the dark feeling that these noises will inhabit my nightmares for the rest of my life.

  Buddy says, “We have failed…for we have not…blank…you. No other species have done what you have done…you…you keep resisting…you keep fighting us…even though…blank blank. That is our failure…our shame…our…blank…”

  “You didn’t expect us to fight?” I demand.

  A few seconds later, Buddy says simply, “No.”

  And I yell back, “Then get ready, for we’re never going to surrender! Not ever! We’ll keep on fighting you, and fighting you, and we may be starving, we may die of cold and disease, but so long as we can pick up a rock or a stick, you will never find peace here! Never!”

  I’m finally so goddamn hot and sweaty that I release Buddy’s hand, step back, and strip off my Firebiter vest and BDU jacket, throwing them to the floor. I return to my post and the Creeper is saying something very fast, very loud, so very loud and rising in pitch that we all cover our ears.

  Then the Creeper turns away, rolls itself so that all we can see is its armored back, and even its eyestalks have retreated. The only thing we hear is the constant hiss of static.

  Dad says, “Sweet Jesus…” and Laughton adds, “I don’t believe this…”

  I take Buddy’s hand. “Buddy, what the hell just happened?”

  Buddy waits and waits, and I wonder what he’s thinking, what he’s processing, and he says, “Randy, I don’t know. There are levels of their language, from one caste to another, one group to anothe
r. She started speaking rapidly, very fast in a different form. I couldn’t make out a phrase, or a single word. But I got a sense of what she was feeling.”

  I ask, “What’s that?”

  “Fear,” he says. “She was fearful.”

  I try to puzzle that out, and say, “Afraid of what?”

  Buddy pulls his hand away. “I’m sorry. I’m…so, so very tired.”

  And then he sits down on the concrete.

  Chapter Twenty

  I’m in a conference room with Dad, Laughton, Serena and Buddy. This room is better tricked out than the one I was in earlier, with softer chairs, a shiny table, and a big glass jug with water and ice. Buddy is sitting in the corner, hands folded, staring at his hands. The rest of us are in chairs, and I say, “Dad, what the hell is going on? What the hell could that Creeper be afraid of?”

  Dad says, “I wish I knew. Really, I wish I knew.”

  By now I’m chilled again and my jacket is back on, as well as my Firebiter vest, though I don’t bother fastening it. I now feel restricted, confined, and I want to get out of this maze of underground rooms and corridors as soon as I can. Every now and then a quiver ripples through me as I remember how close I had been to that damn bug.

  I say, “What now? You said you wanted to bring Buddy here to talk to a Creeper, but the one you were looking for is dead. And this one just talked a bit before stopping.”

  Dad runs both hands through his hair and Laughton says, “Your boy asks a good question, Henry. You got your way into my facility, you got your…youngster there to talk to the Creeper. Now the boy can’t—or won’t—talk to her. What’s going to happen? You came here with an Army company. You think they’re going to wait up top for you to continue an interrogation, or are you going to send them on their way? From what I’ve seen from their captain, that’s exactly what she wants to do.”

  “A good point, Phil. I might just do that. We need to reopen our lines of communication with them, find out what worked last week when we got a Creeper Dome to surrender.”

  Laughton says, “I’ve heard rumors about that, but nothing official. True?”

  “Yes,” Dad says. “Buddy and my son, they advanced on the Dome, got them to open it up, got the Creepers inside to surrender.”

  Laughton slowly shakes his head. “Jesus H. Christ. That sounds incredible. Henry, you stay here as long as you want. The girl and her brother. The unit above…they should get back to their battalion. We’re a pretty quiet installation and I’d like to keep it that way.”

  I jump in and say, “Works for me. No offense, Colonel, I’m attached to K Company and if they leave, I’m leaving with them. And with Serena and Buddy staying behind, I’ll work on a way to get back to New Hampshire.”

  Serena says, “I go with Randy. If he leaves with K Company, then my brother and I are going with him. I’m not staying without him.”

  Laughton says, “Specialist, you’re in the Army, and you’ll follow your superior officer’s orders. If you’re told to stay here with your brother, that’s what you’re going to do. You don’t have any authority to request Sergeant Knox’s detachment here.”

  Serena’s eyes narrow. “With all due respect, Colonel, go to hell. I go where I want to, and if you don’t like it, then with a few words on my part, I can tell Buddy to shut up. Forever.”

  Laughton looks ready to explode once more and I say, “Dad, er, Colonel Knox.”

  “Yes?”

  “What the Creeper said about war, how they weren’t making war against us. That they were doing something else. They were trying to humble us. Not kill us, not destroy us, but to humble us. Doesn’t that hook up with what you said earlier, that they’re here to convert us, to their…religion or belief system? And that Buddy might be their first true convert, their first prophet to humanity?”

  Laughton looks like we’re in the midst of discussing how many Creepers can dance on the head of a pin, but Dad says, “Yes, that’s a pretty good analysis.”

  “Do you think you can make progress with this Creeper?”

  “I don’t know. The way it responded there, at the end. Rolling up, turning its back on us. We’ve never seen anything like it.”

  “Who’s ‘we’?” Serena asks.

  Dad says, “Those of us in Intelligence. Including Colonel Laughton. We’ve been working for years to talk to the Creepers, to find out why they’re here, why they’re fighting us.”

  “No offense, Dad,” I say, “but let me repeat what Serena just said. What do you mean ‘we’? Back at the surrendered Dome, we were visited by the man from Langley, Hoyt Cranston, and General Scopes, also from Intelligence. We were debriefed, Serena and Buddy left with them, and then we left to approach another Creeper Dome, with a PsyOps Humvee, outfitted with a recorded message that was supposedly from Buddy.”

  Laughton is paying real strict attention now, and I think maybe Dad hadn’t told him the full story. But Dad doesn’t stop me and I say, “The PsyOps Humvee had a recording of an insult to Creepers. Instead of surrendering, they attacked K Company. The Creepers have been following us, ambushing us, and even destroyed a bridge to prevent us from getting to Battalion. Like they’re doing their very best to get revenge for the insult.”

  Laughton says, “Henry?”

  “Let the sergeant go on,” he says.

  I do just that. “Serena and her brother find us, having left the base where they were taken. They were getting ready to torture Buddy, to find out how he learned the Creeper language, how he came up with the wording that made the Creepers surrender. He wouldn’t talk. Cranston was getting ready to torture Buddy when Serena and he escaped.”

  Laughton says, “Specialist, is this true?”

  “Every damn word.”

  “Henry?”

  “Afraid so,” Dad says.

  “Hey,” I say. “Anybody want to answer the original question? Who is ‘we’? If all of this communication effort was part of Intelligence, then why did Cranston and Scopes feel it necessary to torture Buddy? And why did they sabotage K Company with the wrong message on the PsyOps Humvee? Aren’t you guys all on the same team?”

  Dad quietly says, “Once we were. But then Major Coulson and I were charged with treason, because we were having unauthorized diplomatic discussions with the enemy. We were barely talking with the Creepers and we were supposed to let the Administration take the lead. But they were delaying, and delaying.”

  Laughton says, “Presidential election coming up this fall.”

  “That’s right,” Dad says. “And…Serena’s dad, and me, and others, we weren’t going to wait. No. We weren’t going to wait. But others thought differently. We were arrested, placed in a military base, and were sent west on a military police bus. Then it was attacked by two Creepers who tried to take us to a local Dome until my son showed up.”

  “Where’s Major Coulson?” Laughton asks.

  “Dead,” Serena says, voice flat. “He was shot helping Buddy and me escape.”

  At that Buddy lifts his head, eyes full of intelligence, and I think he’s going to say something, but no, his head goes back down.

  “Colonel Laughton?” I ask.

  “Er, yes?”

  We all saw Buddy move, and I still think we’re all in awe of his ability, to talk and to communicate with the Creepers. I slide my hand down to my holstered 9 mm Beretta, slowly take it out so that it’s on my lap. “You’ve now heard what’s going on with Serena, her brother, the man from Langley and General Scopes. Do you know where they’re located?”

  “No, I don’t.”

  I say, “You just heard my dad say he was arrested for treason. Obviously, he’s now an escaped prisoner. Mind telling us what you’re going to do with that information?”

  Two possible answers from Colonel Laughton, and I’m fully prepared to respond to either one. Let’s call the answers A and B. If he responds with Answer A, his brains and blood are going to be splattered on the very nice framed photo of a B-52 Stratofortress about
a half meter behind his head.

  Laughton says, “I haven’t heard anything official about Colonel Knox’s status. In the meantime, I’m prepared to offer him full cooperation in interrogating the Creeper we have on base. That’s what I plan to do, Sergeant Knox.”

  I slowly return my Beretta back to my holster. Nice to see Answer B suddenly appear out of nowhere.

  * * *

  Some sandwiches are brought in and the conference room door remains open, and Dad and Colonel Laughton go across to another office, and I can see them talking to each other, sitting around a small round table. For an outfit that is supposedly geared to jets and rockets, they sure as hell have a lot of tables.

  Serena helps feed Buddy and says, “I wasn’t joking back there.”

  “I didn’t sense you joking anywhere.”

  “Cut it out,” she says, wiping Buddy’s chin with a cloth napkin—cloth!—that had a smear of mustard on it. The sandwiches are ham, cheese, tomato and lettuce, and are moist and delicious. I wonder if the Air Force smarties here grow their vegetables underground, in hydroponic tanks. She says, “I don’t trust anyone except for you. That’s it. And if you’re not here to have my back, then either I’m going with you and K Company, or we’re staying here and we’re shutting it down.”

  I take another healthy bite. “Nope, that’s not what you’re going to do. I’m no fan of Colonel Laughton, but he was right. You’re going to follow orders, and so am I.”

  “Then stay here, damn it,” she says. “Stay with me and Buddy, and your dad, and you’ll be safe.”

  She picks up her own sandwich, takes a healthy bite for a girl her size. “And the food…God, the food.”

  “Very compelling,” I say, “but if Captain Wallace needs me, that’s where I’m going to be, and you’re not coming with us. You and Buddy…for God’s sake, it’s like it’s World War II, and you have the only means of decoding German military messages, and you want to go on a bombing raid to Berlin. Not going to happen. If you’re with me topside, you both could be smeared in ten minutes if a killer stealth satellite keys on your transport.”