The Wounded Warrior

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The Wounded Warrior Page 5

by Jim Laughter


  “I figured something like that,” Leatha said. “Just hearing you state it makes it seem more real. Kind’a creepy really.”

  “That’s a normal response,” Rose said. “Rest well and try to get some sleep.”

  “I can only try,” Leatha said as Rose turned to leave.

  “Rose?” Leatha called out as the nurse reached the door. Rose stopped and turned back toward her.

  “Yes?”

  “Would it be all right if I did a little commercial for myself?”

  Even in the darkened room, Leatha could see Rose grin.

  “I think you’re going to be all right,” she said and left the room.

  Chapter Seven

  The day dawned bright in the northern hemisphere, which contained the major landmasses on Credence. The cluster commander looked at his underlings. He bared his teeth at them. To him it was a smile. Any human would read it as a hideous sneer.

  The planet had been thoroughly mapped and the attack plans drawn up. As their initial surveys had indicated, there were no planetary defenses. This planet was ripe for the picking. The humans had sent not one but two delegations to the island.

  Only rigid discipline and fear for their lives kept his troops from attacking the defenseless planet while the cluster commander lured the humans into his command ship. He made the wise tactical decision to glean any information he could from them about the planet’s population and defenses. Again it was confirmed that there were many hundreds of thousands of tasty humans undefended and unsuspecting. The humans even provided maps to the alien visitors detailing population centers and facilities.

  As an added bonus, there turned out to be substantial areas on the planet devoted to raising other warm-blooded life forms that were almost as popular back at the home clusters as humans. This would truly be a rich prize to secure. Instead only a few ships with maybe a thousand humans each sent back through the portals, he would be able to send entire fleets of transports filled with the most desired food back home.

  The communications process was slow and tedious. The human language was difficult to understand and almost impossible to speak. The cluster commander and the human delegation relied mostly on a crude system of sign language and visual images to speak to each other.

  On a hunch, he plied the humans for more information about living conditions on this planet. In addition, he inquired about these other life forms. A plan was forming in the back of his mind about setting up food farms back among the home world clusters. It would secure him in a position of power beyond approach if he could pull it off. Here in front of him were the resources to make it happen. Another unforeseen but most welcome opportunity.

  Finally, there was no more he could learn from these humans. At a nod from the cluster commander, they were stunned and then slaughtered. While his immediate underlings feasted, the commander had portions taken out to leaders in the lower ranks. There was nothing like the taste of what was to come to further inspire and secure the loyalty of the troops.

  Using all the information at his disposal, the cluster commander ordered a second series of over flights. The grid that was laid out would make for the most efficient harvest of humans to central locations for shipment. It would also make sure that any resistance was minimal in scope, as it would isolate the humans into small, easily managed packs. After they were gathered, he would turn his attention to the other life forms to be gathered. His intent was to gather as many humans alive as possible. It would bring higher rewards back home and provide his initial stock for establishing the food farms he envisioned.

  The weather report from observers in orbit was favorable. The cluster commander gave the signal and the ships lifted into orbit. Other raider ships appeared at their designated locations, and upon a second signal, they descended to the surface. The harvest of Credence began.

  ∞∞∞

  “How did I do?” Leatha asked as Rose thumbed through the massive questionnaire. “Did I pass?”

  “Everybody passes,” Rose reassured her. She finished scanning the last page then turned to the list of questions where Leatha needed help.

  “Oh, it’s one of those tests,” Leatha replied with a sinking heart. “I was afraid you were going to say that.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” Rose said, trying hard to encourage the young captain. “This is just an attempt to establish a base pattern on your life and your responses to different experiences. How about we go over these questions you marked?”

  “Ok,” Leatha agreed. “You can help me answer them.”

  “No, I can’t,” Rose corrected her. “What I can do is maybe clarify the question so you can understand what it is asking. But the answer has to come from you.”

  Leatha settled back in her chair. She looked around the small office they were in and tried to relax. Unfortunately, it made her think of a walk-in cooler—cold and intimidating.

  “I hope this isn’t your office,” Leatha said. “I hate to think of this as a reflection of you.”

  “It isn’t,” Rose said with a chuckle. “I borrowed it today while they fix one up for me. This one belongs to someone who styles himself as an expert on human relationships.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding!” Leatha exclaimed. “What does he think humans are, cold meat?”

  Rose laughed. “I’ll have to remember that. Actually, he’s not too bad. He just can’t decorate his way out of the proverbial paper bag. Now back to the questions.”

  “Knew I couldn’t distract you for long,” Leatha admitted. “But you have to admit it was a good try.”

  “Yes, it was,” Rose admitted. “Now about question fifty-seven,” she went on, “what was your favorite class in school?”

  “I never went to school.”

  “You didn’t?” Rose asked. “How do you explain your education?”

  “I learned from whomever I could,” Leatha explained. “Nothing formal was possible. You got what you could however you could.”

  “Ok, we’ll scratch those questions unless you want to add something,” Rose said as she took notes.

  “No, I want to answer the best that I can,” Leatha said. “But it’s going to take some explaining.”

  “I’m ready,” Rose said.

  “I can’t remember everything,” Leatha started. “But my home planet was a savage place. We lived hand to mouth. It was only after I left that I had a chance to learn very much of what had happened, and even then it was still catch as catch can.”

  Rose thought about this for a minute. “What is the earliest thing you can remember?” Leatha remained quiet while Rose waited. Leatha was obviously struggling with something.

  “Only bits and pieces come to mind,” Leatha slowly answered. “Just flashes of images with very strong emotions attached. Usually fear. I was only a child.”

  “That is not unusual,” Rose commented. “Emotions are some of our strongest memories.”

  “That’s a relief,” Leatha said with a sigh. “That means I’m normal.”

  “Can you give me even one piece?” Rose asked, ignoring Leatha’s disclaimer.

  The captain grew apprehensive as she noticed it too. I’m in big trouble here or something is terribly wrong and they don’t want to tell me.

  Seeing that Leatha had gone silent, Rose decided on a different approach to help the young woman.

  “What can you tell me about your native world?” Rose asked in a relaxed tone. “In general, I mean. What kind of place is it? What might I expect? Tell me about the people.”

  As she spoke this, she saw that Leatha’s eyes had glazed over and she was staring into space. OK, here we go, Rose thought as she noted the time. Signaling for another nurse to watch Leatha while she had a break, Rose quietly got up to stretch and to go get them a cup of tea. She knew it was going to be a long session.

  ∞∞∞

  Leatha opened her eyes. She could tell by the light on the ceiling she that it was at least mid-morning. She was surprised to find herself a
lone in the room. She expected at least a nurse, if not Rose Sharon herself, to be sitting in the chair in the corner. It was then that Leatha realized she was unsure of what day it was. She assumed it was the day after she had fallen asleep. The disorientation frightened her. Just then a nurse came in.

  “What day is it?” Leatha asked before she could check herself.

  “Worried a bit, are we?” she said with a smile. “You slept the night through. Rose should be along any minute. In the meantime, get ready for some breakfast.”

  “I’m not hungry,” Leatha said hesitantly. “I just want to know what is going on with me.” A cart stopped in the hall and an aide brought in a tray and set it down on Leatha’s table.

  “You don’t want to fret on an empty stomach,” the nurse said with a chuckle as she lifted the cover. The pleasant smell of some sort of scrambled egg dish and a savory meat wafted up and enticed Leatha’s nose. To her surprise, her lack of hunger vanished and her stomach growled. The nurse heard it. “That’s more like it,” she said with a hearty laugh. “You go ahead and eat. Then you can freshen up and Rose will be in to see you.”

  Leatha knew when she was under orders so she decided to comply. After giving thanks to the Unseen One, she uncovered her coffee and took a sip. The steam and caffeine cleared her mental cobwebs and she found to her delight that she had her old sharpness back.

  But that turned out to be a mixed blessing. Along with the sharpness returned memories of the dreams that had tormented her. She deliberately tried to force the memories into the background and focus on the present.

  The dreams refused to dissipate and she found herself mulling them over as she started eating the meat and egg scramble on her plate. In a way, it was a fitting meal considering how everything was mixed up in her head.

  Would her inner turmoil ever settle into some semblance of order? At first, there were dreams in which she was a little girl. Everything seemed larger than life and very dangerous. Although she realized this is how frightening things appeared to a young child, she didn’t dismiss their significance. Her mind was reviewing these things for a reason. She just didn’t know what that reason could be.

  The next set of dreams came in mental fragments. These were more accurate in recall and seemed to be from her early teen years. She had forgotten much of this and they stirred long-buried emotions.

  Then came the dreams of more recent origin. The dangers of space and the joy of being found. Finally, her early time in the service and then later flight school. It gave Leatha comfort because it was the world of here and now. The last sequences even had a snatch or two about the new love in her life—Stan Shane.

  She filed it all away mentally and concentrated on finishing her breakfast. She didn’t know if she was in control again or not. Would they let her out of here today?

  “Are we feeling cocky today?” Rose said as she glided silently into the room carrying a teacup.

  Leatha jumped. She wasn’t sure how she felt. Was it surprise or guilt? What could she have done to save the civilizations she’d found destroyed on her last mission? Where were the people that had lived on those planets? Were they alive or dead? Could they be saved? Would she ever get over seeing the blasted planets and megatons of debris floating in space?

  Rose sat down in the corner chair while Leatha tidied up her bedside table and pushed it to one side. The only thing she kept was her coffee cup.

  “I know you slept well,” Rose began. “Or at least long. But I suspect you had some rather interesting dreams.”

  Leatha cringed. She couldn’t imagine what she might have said in her sleep that Rose would have overheard or how she would interpret it.

  “Don’t worry,” Rose said. “I didn’t understand what little you said.”

  “So when do I get out of here?” Leatha asked. She was struck by the fear that she wasn’t going anywhere soon, but she had to ask.

  “First we discuss a few other things,” Rose said. “Then we’ll talk about you leaving here.”

  Anything to keep my hopes of leaving alive, Leatha thought.

  “It’s not going to be easy,” Rose said and then took a sip of her tea. She looked over the rim of her teacup at the confused young woman. “And when we’re done, you may not want to leave.”

  Leatha shuddered at the implication. What could they ever talk about that would not make her ready and willing to leave this facility and return to the openness of space? And then in a flash she knew.

  Chapter Eight

  “Come on, girl!” the old man called to the little girl following behind him. “Let’s go feed the ducks!” he added as an inducement. He knew this would work. The girl quit wandering aimlessly and started running toward him.

  “Ok, Grandpa,” she shrilled as she ran up and hugged his leg. As he tousled her hair, she released him and took his hand. Walking forward hand-in-hand, the two made their way along the trail through the park. The girl reached out with her left hand, absently fondling flowers along the way.

  Even at their slow speed, they soon rounded a bend where the ponds spread out before them. Releasing his hand, the girl ran forward, giggling and skipping along the pathway. In response, the waterfowl swam toward the far end of the first pond. The old man smiled. Oh, to be a child again, he thought.

  “Easy honey,” he called out. “You don’t want to frighten them.”

  The girl stopped and hunched down in exaggerated caution. The old man caught up with her and motioned for her to stand back up. She quietly complied. The old man moved them carefully around the pond to a convenient park bench. He sat down on one end with a sigh while his granddaughter eagerly watched the ducks and geese. They seemed unsure of the two. From his jacket pocket, Grandpa pulled a small bag of dried bread pieces. The girl turned toward him and held out her cupped hands.

  “Ok, take it easy, baby,” he whispered. “Toss only a few at a time.” He poured a few pieces of broken bread into her hands. She nodded solemnly and then looked up and studied the still distant waterfowl. She moved slowly from his side and approached the edge of the pond. The waterfowl eyed her, wary of her presence. She held out one piece of bread. They continued to eye her but still kept their distance.

  “They won’t come, Grandpa!” she exclaimed, turning back toward him. He could see the pleading in her eyes.

  “Throw a couple pieces onto the water, honey,” he said, motioning for her to turn back around. One large male goose had detached itself from the rest of the milling waterfowl and slowly approached the girl.

  Turning back toward the pond, she moved all the pieces she had except two to one hand. With a wild overhand swing, she threw the other two bread scraps out onto the water. Between her throw, the wind, and their light weight, they landed only a couple of feet from shore. The goose saw the pieces floating there and swam closer. The girl and the old man waited anxiously. The goose continued to move closer.

  In the flash of motion almost too quick to follow, the goose stretched out its neck and snapped up the pieces before swimming rapidly away. It chattered a bit as it ate its prize while several other geese started swimming toward the girl. After continuing to mill around with indecision, the rest finally decided to follow.

  “He took them!” the girl squealed with glee.

  “Throw out some more bread,” the old man called to his granddaughter. She obediently threw a few more pieces. The flock of geese quickly snapped these up. She threw the rest in front of the approaching flock who feasted on the treat. She scampered back to the old man for more.

  “Give me some more!” she pleaded as she cupped her hands again. He carefully doled out a few more pieces to her. As soon as she could, she started to run back. The geese reacted to her sudden motion by raising their wings. Seeing this, she checked her pace and carefully approached the birds more slowly. Reaching the edge of the pond, she took up her station again and began throwing the pieces out a few at a time. The flock of birds gathered, eager for the bread. In moments, the girl was out o
f pieces again.

  The unexpected explosion of a sonic boom split the sky as a strange vessel flew overhead. The flock, startled by the noise, fled in a flurry of feathers and desperate noise. The girl was frightened by all this and ran back to her grandfather who was looking upward in puzzlement.

  “What is it, Grandpa?” she cried in alarm as she rushed into his arms.

  “I don’t know, honey,” he answered, continuing to watch the strange craft. Another craft appeared further away, followed by yet another. Soon the sky filled with the strange craft.

  “We better go,” he said, taking her hand as he stood up. Just then the air was split by a powerful roar as one of the craft came down only a few hundred yards away. The old man knew it had landed just beyond the park entrance. Topping a rise, he could clearly see the not too distant scene unfold.

  The monsters pouring out of the strange craft was unlike anything the old man had ever imagined. He knew there were oddities and strange creatures that lived in the forests and oceans of Credence, but where could these hellish beings have come from?

  Hordes of them descended the ramps of the craft, spreading out across the landscape like a plague. Their weapons discharged with almost every step, destroying and killing indiscriminately. The old man stayed low behind an outcropping of brush, firmly holding his granddaughter beside him, shielding her with his own body.

  The girl cried out when a blast from one of the red monster’s weapons ignited a tree only scant yards away from their hiding place. At first, the old man did not think the creature heard the noise, and then froze in fear when the red monster turned in their direction, its cloven hooves scraping on the paving stones along the path to the pond. The old man knew they could not stay concealed for long, but he also knew he could not flee fast enough to escape, especially since he would have to either drag or carry his granddaughter.

  The red creature approached the brushy outcropping. An acrid stench of burnt umber preceded it, the odor causing the old man to gag and his eyes to burn. The guttural sounds the monster made as it thrashed the brush from side to side reminded the old man of horror stories his uncles had told him when he was a child. Of course, he always knew the stories were only fanciful tales designed to rob a young boy of a night’s sleep while camping in the woods. Now he wasn’t so sure.

 

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