Starship Invasion (Lost Colony Uprising Book 2)

by Darcy Troy Paulin

  The men looked taken aback to find such a large group at their feet. “Ah—” one of them started to say.

  Quin froze. He wasn't about to lie to the guards about an intruder. But then he couldn't just turn her in either. And the presence of the guards was the last thing they needed. He followed the only route open to him and looked at the ground.

  “Ya, down there,” Jayleen said, pointing in the same direction.

  The two guards gave thanks and took off down the path. When they reached the first left, they took it in full stride.

  The woman looked down at the gang of youths silently, eyeing their bags and noting the rope around Cailin's waist. “You're not trying to leave this place,” she said in disbelief. “Don't you know?” She stared at them.

  Quin stood up. “Know what?”

  “There's a near riot out there.” she said. “People want in. Some are even trying to get in…”

  Quin suddenly felt foolish. “No, I didn't…know that.”

  “Thanks, by the way. For the help with the guards” she said, her stern look softening some. “I wouldn't recommend trying to get out now in any case, not if it's supposed to be some kind of secret.”

  “No, I guess not,” Quin said. Now there was nothing to do but head back to their tent and absorb this new information.

  “You should come with us,” Jayleen said. “We have room.”

  Quin shot her a look that said, There-are-so-many-reasons-you-should-not-have-done-that.

  She shot a look back at him that said, shut-up-Quin.

  The woman didn't respond at first. She struck him immediately as someone that thought things through before acting, which put her rash action into perspective.

  “I will then. Thank you,” she said, and reached out to shake Jayleen's hand. “My name's Greta.”

  Chapter 22

  The hatch closed behind Linda, the last to enter the alien starship. Artificial gravity pulled relentlessly down on Max. He could especially feel the weight of his axe which hung heavy on his back, pulling firmly on its harness. He'd carried more weight before, but it felt different. His head wanted to drag forward, and his arms wanted to hang loose by his side.

  The lighting within the ship was dim, but his eyes adjusted quickly, and he was able to make out his surroundings. The corridor had a simple tube shape, floor, ceiling, and walls. The rounded floor further complicated his ability to walk like a normal person. The walls of the tube were made of some strange but sturdy material. It was light in color, though tinged green in the available light, and though it was smooth under his glove, it had the dull sheen of a partially polished stone. He double checked that everyone was inside and behind him, then walked forward through the tube, which curved gently ahead, limiting his view. Before long,

  the tube opened up into a larger space with even floors. The walls were formed of the same material but were highlighted in patches of soothing green and yellow. Apart from the hue of the walls and the nice even floor, there was little of note in the space. There wasn't even another door. Max started to wonder if perhaps the aliens were up to some mischief when the tunnel hatch closed behind them. He felt the air moving rapidly within the chamber.

  “The air is now breathable,” Linda said.

  “Don't take your helmet off,” Max said.

  “Oh, goodness, no,” Linda said, “that would be mad.”

  Snow rapped her knuckles on her helmet to indicate that it was still on.

  Just then, the back wall changed, the surface cleared of its greeny-yellow pattern and became transparent. On the other side of the now invisible wall was a group of four blobs.

  Each of the creatures was formed of two blobs. One large, stubby sausage like sac with a smaller block sac on top of one end. And by the way they glided gently off the floor, it was clear that they were not under the same gravitational constraints as Max and his stalwart crew mates.

  A sound similar to that of the transmission they'd heard earlier came from the direction of the transparent wall. Two of the blobs had grown tendrils from their blobby bodies and were waving them about. The other two floated behind them, making no gestures or movements at all.

  “We of the Torrian People bid welcome to our fellow star traveling nomads. We are sorry to waylay you in this manner. But, as you are sure to be aware, we act in accordance to the agreements laid down during the galactic summits 1, 48, 93 et al., by which we may hinder your passage to protect our presence and operations from the orchestrator's of the galactic oppression and destruction of intelligence,” Linda said, her voice taking on the character of an official sounding but gender neutral voice. Her translation was getting better, or her ability to BS was getting better. “We do not recognize your people—Do not speak in such a manner, it may be misunderstood—” Linda's voice changed to one of reprimand.

  Max connected the new speaker with one or both of the back-row pair of blobs as they suddenly grew tendrils and began to gesture in time with the interruption.

  “We have not seen your people before this meeting—better—and we of this science ship are curious to learn of you. If you are willing to share with us of you, we will be able to share with you of us.”

  “Greetings,” Snow said. “We are of the human people. I mean we're humans.”

  “Human people!” Linda said and Max wondered how she gauged enthusiasm. “We welcome the Human people. We Torrians fill the forty ninth language of the current epoch. Which do you fill?” Linda's voice changed back to her own and she added, “I think they mean in The Message.”

  “We, as yet, fill no language in The Message,” Snow said.

  “Are you truly of such ancient lineage as to have fallen from the list?” Linda said, returning to the tone indicative of the alien speaker.

  “No, we have only just popped out of the womb so to speak—”

  “Don't be funny. Or poetic. They might not like funny. They might hate poetic,” Max said, interrupting.

  “Funny and poetic are difficult. Though we enjoy them ourselves, the gestures often fail to translate in the correct cadence. We advise their avoidance. We have learned patience with such things, as have many of our fellow nomadic starfarers. But some we have encountered seem eager to take offense. Those ones are often very well armed and unsurprisingly eager to do battle. Humor can make of them, instant friends, or instant enemies. But what is this you are saying about new gestation?”

  “We are not in the list, perhaps because we have not yet been defeated,” Snow said.

  All the alien blobs began gesturing wildly with their tendrils. Linda changed voices rapidly trying to keep up with the tumult of translation, all of which amounted to surprise or disbelief. Then the signal ended, though the gesturing of the blobs continued unabated. After a short time, the rampant gesturing of the four stopped and only the two in front continued. The signal returned.

  “Please continue. Tell us of your resistance to the oppressors and how you have evaded the destruction of your people,” said the pair of aliens, through Linda.

  “We haven't evaded destruction just yet. We have only postponed it so far. We weren't yet ready to act when the jump occurred… there was a mistake, it's a long story…”

  “We of this small ship value little above the study of other peoples, and there is time for your story. A great quantity of time,” they said.

  “That's just it though, there isn't time. If we don't return with the Akoronite we need, soon, our people will be destroyed,” Snow gestured with her hands as she spoke. Max wondered if the aliens would like her better for it. Or if instead it might only make them sick.

  “Surely you have other searchers. It must be left to them to gather the resources you seek.”

  “It's only us looking. This is the only jumpship we have. Without us, our people will very soon be added to the list.” There was pleading in her voice, but Max guessed that would gain her no sympathy with such a completely foreign species.

  “Tell us your story, Humans, we a
re curious to hear how such a mistake, with such a large cost attached, could occur without preparation.”

  So, Snow told them the tale, from the beginning on Earth, through the long voyage through space and the missile attack from Earth, the pivot at Centauri and then the remaining voyage to and the crashes onto Mega and Grailliyn. From there she passed the torch to Max. He did his best to fill in the remaining patchy history leading up to their present position, meeting with the alien blobs.

  “You compressed your story well… perhaps one day you will allow us to hear the tale in full,” the Blobs said.

  Snow gave Max a look of exasperation, but mastered herself, turning back to the Blobs. “If you allow us to leave and save our people, then we would be happy to share our history with you in full.”

  “It is not our decision to make. But we will go now and speak with the Leader. The Leader will decide your fate. Return now to your ship and await the summons,” the Blobs in front said. “Though you may wait long for it to arrive.” the Blobs in back said.

  They made their way down the tunnels of the alien ship to the exit. Max's mind was racing in a circle, hoping to find an exit from their woes.

  “Where did you get the Name Torrians from?” Snow asked.

  “It's complicated,” Linda said, “like involving math and the sounds their tendrils make and translating that into human speech. Should I explain?”

  “No,” said both Max and Snow in unison.

  Chapter 23

  Gustov tapped a command into the side of the pod. A name appeared in large letters across its length as well as a long string of numbers. Gustov entered the name into his data pad. Banray Gregorik, aged thirty. Earthborn. Primary Technologist, secondary soldier. In the short term he was destined to fill that secondary role. Gustov triggered the pod into a wake cycle and turned back to his other more interesting patient, who had just returned from the Toaster.

  Yannis Borrona, aged sixty-five. Earthborn. Veteran of nine separate five-year tours on Duty Crew. Triple the original allotment. Given previous results, Gustov had been reluctant to open another of the Starborn pods, but now he was glad to have been so thorough. Yannis was the first Earthborn Duty Crew member awoken and the only sane member of the Duty Crew yet awoken, with the possible exception of Warda Starborn who was better known as Snow White. Perhaps Yannis could answer some of the questions they had about the Starborn madness that had caused so much trouble, both now and way back during the journey. And he could tell them why he was in a Starborn pod. Gustov assumed there must have been a problem with the man's own pod.

  “How are you feeling now? Better?” Gustov asked. They always felt better after the Toaster. He remembered the relief he felt as his own synapses and neurons were reconnected, and his memories flooded back in. Though perhaps it was not as bad for a Duty Crew member. They had all been woken many times before, and upon each waking, had their memories refreshed.

  “Much better. Thank you,” Yannis said. “Are those the Starborn there?” He pointed to the curtain blocking off the last two pods of the chamber, one stacked upon the other to conserve space.

  “Yes,” Gustov said, a note of sadness in his voice. Since Eva's gathering there had been a lot of talk about the Starborn, and their possible role in the original disaster and subsequent crash of the Longissima. He began assessing the next pod in sequence for its occupant to be woken.

  “What's to happen with them?” Yannis asked.

  “Oh, we'll keep them on ice until we have an opportunity to address their peculiar malaise,” Gustov said.

  “Are you certain they're…” Yannis paused to consider the word. “Compromised?”

  “Ah. One of them for certain, yes,” Gustov said. “He was fine for a while after waking, but then he just went off. Ranting about this and that and smashing things.”

  “Ah. And the other?” Yannis asked. He moved up behind Gustov to pass behind him and look behind the curtain.

  “Uncertain. I've been considering whether or not to wake him and see. But I have quite enough other, less potentially volatile options at the moment. So, it seems wiser to—” Gustov looked up in time to see a bed pan arcing towards his head. But not in time to do anything about it.

  Chapter 24

  Quin tried to explain to Jayleen and Cailin the reason for the change of plan, that if it was true that everyone wanted in, it might not be so easy for them to change their minds later. That they had to decide now if they wanted to be evacuated. But in reality, he was only trying to convince himself. Jayleen and Cailin didn't hold him accountable for the huge mistake they had nearly made by trying to leave the city. They too were now convinced. First by Jessie's testimony and then by the sudden appearance of Greta over the wall, desperate to get in.

  Greta had been quite startled when, as they all stood in preparation to return to their tent, Chaplin had appeared as if out of nowhere from under the pile of bags on the ground. Though Quin had been able to calm her and keep her from fleeing, she remained suspicious of the android.

  They slept in cramped quarters. Quin shared his bunk with Cailin who gave his bunk to Greta. Cailin's sleep was filled with kicking and thrashing, all part of some dream adventure or another. It was still very dark when they awoke, and would remain so until sunrise in another half day.

  Greta wasn't much of a talker. And Quin was reluctant to say much in the stranger's presence, which left most of the talking to Cailin and Jayleen, who, acting opposite of Quin, became more talkative in the stranger's presence. Especially upon finding out that she'd come from New York City.

  Greta fended off the questions as politely as possible, and it seemed that she might not have stuck around if she had any other place to be. She did describe to them the desperate people outside trying to get in. But the majority of people stuck to their homes. They disbelieved the news in the theaters, news that told them they needed to abandon their homes and indeed their planet. But that majority was thinning.

  They no longer even discussed the idea of escaping but spent their time thinking and talking about what would happen next. They visited the theater at every opportunity, as did most of the citizens of Tent City. A news segment preceded the movies, which was a brand new never before seen feature of the theaters. The news updated the citizens of Tent City on current and future events. One announcement drew reaction from all in attendance. The evacuation of Tent City would begin in the morning, one hour past sunrise, which meant everyone was to get up rather early if they were to take part.

  When the news was finished, the feed as the newscasters called it, continued from a midpoint of the current show, as if the news was somehow separate from the usual transmission of featured movies originating in Tawnee.

  Hours later, at the next showing, the news was updated to account for local time and there was a communal sigh of relief from the viewers that they would not have the added burden of an early rise in addition to the uncertainty of the evacuation.

  Greta had a different take. With the exception of time spent at the theaters, she stayed locked up in the small tent room. Quin kept expecting to find that she'd moved on, each time they returned from their boredom patrols through the lane ways of Tent City. But each time, she was there, grateful for the food they brought her. As they lay down to attempt sleep, she told them what she thought. That they should leave before dawn and make their way to their rally point. It was the same plan Quin had proposed, though she went further in suggesting they leave before dawn, whereas he, a rule follower at heart, had thought to feign ignorance and arrive at the original time which was an hour after dawn.

  When Greta woke them, the sky was still dark enough that the brightest stars still shone, though a patch of deep blue was edging its way slowly into the majority. Preparations were completed the night before and so they left within minutes of waking. They managed to claim a space near to the front of the line, and were satisfied it had been worth the loss of sleep, but they were far from alone in having arrived early. Quin ha
d barely slept as it was. His mind was far too busy with what ifs and what thens? By the time his planned arrival rolled around, the buildup of refugees was substantial. Between those of like mind to Quin, and those of genuine ignorance, the streets had been filled to overflowing. Quin noted it as his second failure as unofficial leader in as many days.

  Most of those working to organize the refugees were fellow Grailliyns, but one of those working the gate was certainly an earthling. At just under six feet of height, he was short. But most notable was his skin. It was a dark brown, nearly black in the dim light of the morning, and it contrasted sharply with the light gray of his long jacket. When he introduced himself as Mission Commander John Carrack, Quin recognized that this was the same man who'd piloted the giant robot on their own clifftops.

  Commander Carrack announced that he had been placed in charge of the evacuation of Tent City and the journey off-world. With the streets full of people, Commander Carrack began operations early and the crowds began to file out of the city. Greta pushed her way ahead, drawing the youngsters along behind her. Quin ensured that they were all accounted for ahead of him, with himself filling in the rear. His body was tense, expecting to battle those others filing out of the city to keep his group together. But though there was plenty of shoving to begin with, no one seemed willing to tangle with the half robot Quin, nor his full robot friend.

  Outside the city was the longest caravan Quin had ever seen. The lead wagon and a half dozen others had been filled with passengers and were past the entrance already, their giant crabs or teams of crabs waiting to move on. But the line of empty wagons continued out of sight up the road. It was the same road they would use to get back to SoChar. Commander Carrack personally handed out lances two per wagon. He gave Chaplin a strange look, clearly curious what the android was doing there. But he asked no questions and handed him a lance. When he saw Quin's new arm the commander quickly handed one to him as well. Quin was excited to see that the lance was real, and he wondered what ancient armory had been plundered to supply them all.