False Invasion

by George Willson

“Do not introduce yourselves or say anything,” Janecia said. “This is the home of my grandparents, and my great-grandmother lives with them as well. Let me do the talking, and I’ll introduce you. If you are who you say you are, however, no introduction will be necessary.”

  Michelle and Perry nodded, though both were curious as to how that would be possible. Janecia knocked on the door and then cracked it open to announce herself.

  “Hello, it’s me,” Janecia called out. “Anyone home?”

  “Hey, Janecia, come on in!” a voice cheerfully called from inside.

  “I brought a couple of friends I want you to meet,” Janecia said as she fully opened the door. She gestured behind her for them to follow her.

  They stepped into a small living room where two people in their sixties smiled and greeted them. The man was standing prepared with a handshake, and the woman held a book as she looked up. As soon as Michelle and Perry stepped into the room, their faces went from smiles to surprise. It was dead silent.

  “Was that Janecia?” an aged voice said from another room. A woman much older than the pair in the room walked around the corner, smiling at Janecia. Her face also dropped to complete shock at seeing Michelle and Perry. She stumbled and caught herself on the side of a plush chair near the door where she had entered.

  Looking around the silent room for a moment, Perry commented, “Does this mean we passed?”

  He glanced at Michelle who nodded toward a photograph on the wall on the far side of the room in front of them. Several people stood together smiling in front of a control panel of some kind, smiling. But standing with these officers and passengers were three very familiar faces.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  The trek across the plains from the crash of the ship to the central prison of Domus seemed to go on forever. Their speed was excruciatingly slow, and the guards were completely uncommunicative. Blake did not regret speaking out, and he had hoped to learn something about the inner workings of the city by getting closer to it. He was never afraid of being caught anywhere since he could always find his way out.

  Behind them, the crowd dispersed to return to the town square where the festivities continued. Music played, and people enjoyed themselves. Based on the way the Mirificus looked, even though it was a hundred years old, the crash would have been devastating to a fledgling colony’s numbers. He was impressed it all held together and that they were able to create a civilization here.

  Of course, he knew already that he, Perry, and Michelle would have something to do with that in their futures, but for now, he was left to the mercy and apparent closed-mindedness of the local security. He did not yet understand the anger towards these creatures, but he did note that they had mentioned another invasion, meaning that these creatures had likely orchestrated something to that effect before. He wondered how much he could get out of the guard closest to him.

  “You’ll have to forgive me for not being on top of things around here,” Blake said to him as they walked, “but what exactly went on with these people that you dislike them so much?”

  The guard responded by using his club in Blake’s gut. “Shut up, and keep walking,” the guard demanded.

  “Right,” Blake said. “I’ll just do that.”

  He did not attempt to say any more to them, and he knew he would not be able to speak to the beings they referred to as Vorasters. He was hesitant to use that term since he had no way of knowing if that were their actual name or if it were an insult given by the humans. He opted to delay any speaking to them until a more convenient time.

  They passed behind the town square into a large brick building and walked down a plain hallway to a metal door that was completely out of place with the rest of the building. Everything else looked like it belonged in the 18th or 19th centuries, but the door was thousands of years past that. He suspected it might have been salvaged from the Mirificus. The guard used a keycard to open the door, which was an automatic pocket door that swished into the wall, and all of them were forced inside.

  The door closed on an entirely empty metal room about ten feet square. Even between him and his tall cell mates, there was room to spare. As it was empty, however, the only place to sit was the floor, which they all did once the door was closed. He finally got a good look at them. Their faces were easy to read with features resembling humanity close enough to tell once he saw them in action. The quadruple shoulders intrigued him considerably since four arms would certainly allow one to do a lot more.

  Their clothing differed slightly from one to the next. They did not appear to be dressed uniformly, but they did wear a particular symbol on one part of their clothing which was unlike anything Blake had ever seen.

  “Why did you say what you did?” one of them said.

  “Because it was right,” Blake replied. “You all crashed, and they mistreated you. You need help, not punishment.”

  “You speak our language?” the same one exclaimed.

  “I have a piece of technology that helps me translate,” Blake said. “You hear your language. Without that, I would be somewhat helpless.”

  “We have some similar translation technology, but it was on the ship,” the same one said. “As for our presence here, it was our own fault. We let our curiosity get the better of us. We had heard the stories of the strange life forms that inhabit this world which only a few generations ago was dead. The gods planted a new race here and let it grow so close to us. We wanted to see them, but we were not paying attention to the dangers. This world is surrounded by a field of rocks that fly very close together kept where they are by the planet’s gravity. This makes approaching this world very treacherous. One of them hit our ship, and in trying to correct for that, we ran into another. Before we knew it, we were on a collision course for the planet’s surface.”

  “You are lucky to have survived,” Blake said.

  “We cannot say we have survived yet,” the same one said. “We are prisoners of this world now, and they appear determined to end us. It also seems that you will meet the same fate for standing by us. We thank you but wish you had not. We do not want to have any blood on our hands besides our own.”

  “I made my choice,” Blake said. “I am Blake, and I’ll do what I can to help you all get back home.”

  “I am Tarlen,” the same one said. “I am the head of the late ship Starlight. With me, I have my medic, Drizdal, my engineer, Faraliv, our engineer second, Rallafin, and my weapon specialist, Orest. The pilot and navigator both died in the crash, and my second in command was dead when we pulled him out, though Drizdal made an effort to resuscitate him.”

  “Yes, before that klokendruk ended that hope,” Drizdal said.

  “Peace, Drizdal,” Tarlen said softly. “We knew he was beyond hope, or I would be angrier as well.”

  “How cowardly must one be to kill a Vrast when he is down?” Orest said.

  “I confess that I am unfamiliar with your race,” Blake said. “How are you known?”

  “Did you not hear them call us Voraster?” Tarlen asked. “That is the name of our race.”

  “What is a Vrast then?” Blake asked.

  “Voraster is our race,” Drizdal explained. “A Vrast is one Voraster. Vrasten are many of the Voraster race. However, we recognize that most other species refer to many Vrasten as Vorasters based on our species name.”

  “I wanted to be sure before I used it,” Blake said. “There seemed to be so much anger between them and you that I wanted to be sure it wasn't an insult.”

  “No,” Tarlen said. “He used our name correctly enough.”

  “Why is there bad blood between your species?” Blake asked.

  “How is it you need to ask?” Tarlen asked. “I thought it was well known.”

  “I’m not from around here,” Blake said.

  “I see. Well, it all boils down to one family,” Tarlen explained. “Some time ago, this family noted that this planet, which had previously been barren and dead, was suddenly teeming with life. T
hey decided they would annex the world secretly and make it their own. As it was considered dead, no initial problem was seen with this. At that time, no one else had noticed that the humans were here.

  “Their presence, in fact, caught us all by surprise. That family moved their ships out here making a hole in the rock barrier that surrounds the planet and proceeded to destroy the inhabitants. I understand they were merciless. It was only after Voraster High Command received a distress signal from them that we realized that there was life here. We immediately recalled this family to our home world and questioned them.

  “Finding out that they had willingly decided to destroy a species that had made this planet their home through their own means and labor, that family was punished severely. Those that had decided to destroy the world were put to death - a punishment we never give. That is how serious this was considered. The remainder of the family was shamed, their businesses destroyed, and to this day, they are largely destitute.

  “We take the existence of life very seriously, and we were ashamed to call these people, who would willingly destroy a civilization, Voraster. We made what apologies we could to the government at the time, but they were very understandably angry and hurt by our intrusions. We promised them that we would not bother them again, and we did not until this day.

  “Their anger with us and their reaction to us is very well justified by our history with them. No one on our planet has been allowed to forget what happened. It forced us to create new regulations when it came to the approval of world annexing. An expedition is always sent out to verify the state of the planet before any approvals are given because of this.

  “We deeply regret the loss of life, and it hurts us to know that we caused so much pain. We do understand their feelings. All we want is to go home and leave them in peace. If we can only contact our world, they will send a ship for us, and we will leave. We will continue to uphold our promise to leave him alone. The five of us will be punished for coming here, and we accept that because we chose to do it.”

  “However understandable the reaction to you is,” Blake said, “I don't believe that you or anyone should die for it. You should be allowed to leave and answer to your own people.”

  “Yes,” Faraliv agreed, “we don't deserve to lose our lives due to mistaken navigation, regardless of the off limits nature of this planet. Accidents happen. No one died on this planet this time. We just want to leave.”

  “Well,” Blake said, “I am fairly convinced that if we defer this decision to the leaders around here, leaving is not an option for you. They even want to end my life for standing with you.“

  “A ridiculous policy to be sure,” Orest said.

  “What kind of people would treat life so cavalierly?” Drizdal asked

  “ They are a people who remember well, and forgive slowly,” Tarlen said. “We are on our own here. Our best bet is to get back to our ship. If we are lucky, the communication system will still function well enough to be able to send a signal to our homeworld. I would doubt that the humans here have a working communication system any longer.”

  “Will the humans face any repercussions if you do not return?” Blake asked.

  “Doubtful,” the leader said. “After all, our people do not know we came here. No flight plan this direction was recorded. And since this world is off limits, no search would be conducted here. If they read that our ship went down, it would be counted as lost and all of us considered dead. If the humans should decide to inflict capital punishment on us, no one will ever know.”

  “Then we better get you out of here then,” Blake said. He walked up to the door and checked to see if it might be possible to see if there was a window or gap to see through. The door was solid and afforded no way to see through to the other side. He had to see if someone was there listening. He rapped on the door, and called out, “Hey out there! Is anyone going to talk to us about this today? You can’t just keep us in here!”

  An electric charge suddenly illuminated the entire door. Blake was thrown by the unexpected charge away from the door across the room. Drizdal ran and knelt by his side. “Are you all right?” he asked. Blake nodded and raised himself onto his elbows with a groan as the door swished open. Two armed guards entered, and everyone inside the cell stepped well away from the door. A guard more ornately decorated than the other strolled in.

  “Greetings, ladies,” he said in a pompous tone, “I am Captain Keller, and you are my guests to the end of the festivities. No one will be hearing your case until after this celebration has concluded, and no one will care what happens to you afterward. If you all accidentally die of starvation or dehydration while you’re here, not a single person will bat an eye. Vorasters are not welcome. And sympathizers can go to hell. I hope your affairs are in order. You won’t leave here alive, any of you. Stay away from the door.”

  Keller left along with the other guards. The door closed behind them. Blake sat up and ran his fingers through his hair shaking out the static.

  “So, we won’t be doing that again,” Blake said. “This room was part of their ship, and they moved it here to be a jail cell? I wonder if that’s what it was originally. I really need to remember that I have this in my pocket sometimes.”

  Blake pulled out a device about the size of a smartphone. He unlocked the screen and tapped a couple of settings.

  “Well, the floor isn’t the most stable, but it’s all solid ground underneath, so that’s no help,” Blake said looking at the screen. “The hallways outside are well guarded, so even if we opened the door, it wouldn’t get us anywhere.” He walked around the perimeter of the room. “Near as I can figure, this room wasn’t part of the brig. It was just a room. Someone’s quarters, perhaps. As such, it looks secure to us because of how they put it together, but it actually isn’t. These panels are strong to anyone that would push on them, but it turns out they’re just stuck into slots on the wall. Part of a ship that in flight would need to be easily removed to reach stuff behind it.”

  “Is it not risky to try something with so many of them outside?” Tarlen asked.

  “We’re constantly at risk,” Blake said. “It is risky to try to leave. It is just as risky to stay. When they put this here, they left a gap around the outside of it. Who knows why, but I would imagine they don’t normally hold many prisoners, and they certainly don’t expect them to be violent or escape. It’s finished on both ends, so no one could see back there. I am curious as to whether it goes up, and if there might be a way out up there. The scan I got is quite promising.”

  “Are you sure we should do this now, Mr. Blake?” Drizdal asked. “If we are to be here several rotations, perhaps we could find a more appropriate time to escape.”

  “After the festival outside dies down for the night seems wise,” Orest said.

  “If they have a night shift,” Rallafin said, “it would stand to reason that it would be thinner than they have out there right now.”

  “But they have important prisoners right now,” Tarlen said. “They would keep security high.”

  “Yes, but it would still be less during the evening hours,” Blake said. “Even if they kept security high in the corridor, if we’re able to climb over this thing and find a direct route outside, we’d want to minimize our exposure. You guys don’t exactly blend in.”

  “No, we do not,” Faraliv said. “Additionally, our primary concern will be attempting to return to our ship. We certainly will not be able to do that during the day with the security they have out there.”

  “Perhaps the best use of our time would be to plan what we can,” Orest said. “We can use whatever information your device can gather to wisely plan a strategy that we can all execute this evening. That way, once we start, we can finish it quickly and keep each other safe.”

  “That sounds good,” Blake said. “The sun was high in the sky when we arrived, and if I measured it right, a full rotation of Keersh is about twenty-eight hours. Not knowing what time of year it is, if we’
re looking at a clean half and half division, we’d have at least seven or so hours until nightfall and probably closer to twelve or fourteen until it would be safest to leave.”

  “We’re not familiar with these units of time,” Tarlen said.

  “Right, I imagine your arbitrary time divisions are different from our arbitrary time divisions,” Blake said. He pulled up a clock on his scanner to demonstrate the passage of time as he measured it. As none of them had any time measurement device, they trusted in what Blake had, even though it was not set to whatever time frame would be convenient on Keersh. The clock on the scanner was set for a 24-hour clock, and for some reason, could not be changed. He figured it tied to the Maze somehow so time would be consistently calculated wherever they went.

  With time understood, they all gathered in the middle of the room to discuss what they would attempt that evening. Blake let them know that he could likely open any door they needed to pass through, so they need not worry about those. Over all, he found the Voraster people to be very agreeable and pleasant and felt it was a shame that the humans had had such a terrible experience with them in the beginning. He believed that had they allied with this race in the beginning, their future would have been far brighter than it turned out and suspected that they would have been able to have made contact with Earth a long time ago.

  Unfortunately, with this prejudice firmly rooted in their population’s memory, it created the future he had witnessed in 1400 years with a people isolated from the universe believing that they had always been on this world and that Earth, if they knew of it at all, was just a work of fiction. All the things they swore to remember would be forgotten because they refused to get along.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Perry and Michelle sat on the couch in the little house with the photograph of an event they had yet to experience sitting between their laps. At some point during the crash of the Mirificus, they would gather with other members of the crew to take this picture which would be somehow developed and printed to end up in this frame. That picture belonged to Jack Long, the man who was responsible for the manuscript that would eventually come into the possession of another man who would publish it only to be ridiculed for it. Yet, here they sat with Jack Long’s direct descendants confirming that the tale that would be considered a piece of fiction was absolute reality.