Tyrus added, “The com links also let us know when the fence alarms are triggered, so the Crabs don’t take us by surprise. We will be wearing wrist units every minute of the day from now on. No exceptions!” He looked sternly at his family, and they all nodded mutely.
Simon frowned in thought. “The aliens have good stealth equipment, screens and the like, to keep sensors from spotting them. How certain are you that we’ll know when they arrive?”
“Oh, we’ll know,” Tyrus answered, nodding. “We’ve got standard life sensors, tuned to pick up Crabs; those are the ones that they might be able to block. We’ve also got infrared motion detectors at key points such as the road into the property. Crabs’ bodies run cooler than us, but as large as they are, a sensitive device should catch them. Thirdly, we’ve got line sensors along the perimeter, with invisible energy beams running between the devices; anything that steps between them and breaks the beam triggers an alarm.”
“How many Knackers can we expect here?” Sarah’s mother Amanda interjected from her seat next to her daughter.
Simon shrugged his shoulders. “Can’t say for sure. Most likely there will be a few reconnaissance scouts at first. If those fail to report back, then the Crabs will send out a larger skirmish party. Those usually contain at least a Knacker squad of ten warriors with armored tracked vehicles or floaters.”
“What should we do?” the youngest boy, T. J., asked nervously. “We’ll be outnumbered and outgunned if they start sending entire squads at us.”
“Yes, we will,” Tyrus told his son, “so we’d better utilize our advantages. Which are?”
“Surprise, ingenuity, and grit,” the sons recited together, obviously having heard the question many times before.
“We’ll have a couple of other advantages, as well,” Simon added. “Knackers still seem to view humans as relatively dumb animals, despite our technology and improved performance against them in recent battles. They are supremely confident of their own superiority. I don’t know if it’s genetically ingrained, or simply the result of having defeated every race they’ve encountered for many millennia. But their apparent inability to visualize defeat makes them complacent and predictable, and we can use that.
“One other thing, and this is important: Knackers are reluctant to use destructive force, other than for strategic targets. It is this, and only this, that has allowed humanity to survive this long. The aliens want us alive, for food. They’re not interested in military dominance in its own right. Dead adversaries are a failure in their eyes. We must use this to our advantage, and we must kill the enemy without hesitation at every opportunity. It is the best edge we have, besides the element of surprise.”
Silence greeted Simon’s pronouncement for a few moments, as each person in the room dealt with the reality of the coming invasion. Finally Tyrus cleared his throat and said, “Okay, everyone. We know what we’re up against, and we’re ready. Let’s give the Crabs a proper greeting when they come!”
* * * *
They actually ended up having two days’ reprieve before anything of note happened at the homestead. They used the time to rest, become familiar with each other, and prepare for battle. Simon was given a spare bedroom at the west end of the upper floor, and a wardrobe donated by the various males in the family. That first evening, Tyrus had pulled Simon aside after the others had headed for bed. He looked his guest straight in the eye and said, “There’s just one thing I want us to be clear on, son. I like your feel; you don’t seem like a young hotblood. But we’re opening our house and home to you, and that takes trust. With that trust comes responsibility. You need to know this: I will not tolerate any impropriety under my roof. I expect you to do that uniform proud, now and always. If I hear from any of my family that they’ve been mistreated by you in any way, then there will be hell to pay. Is this understood?”
Simon returned the man’s gaze evenly. “Completely,” was all he said. Tyrus contemplated him a moment longer before nodding, apparently satisfied. He bid Simon a gruff good night, and they headed to their rooms to sleep. The matter was not spoken of again.
The next day Tyrus showed off the weapons cache he had hidden in an underground bunker, mostly military surplus that he had accumulated while in the armed forces. Simon whistled in appreciation when his host flipped on the light switch. The walls of the small room were covered with racks of well-oiled weapons, ranging from handguns to fully automatic assault rifles. The few energy weapons were limited to small sidearms; the military kept its larger plasma guns closely restricted. He saw antipersonnel mines, small grenades, and flash-bang charges. There was even a flame-thrower, but Tyrus shook his head regretfully, saying that it was nonfunctional. Nonetheless it was an impressive collection of armament.
Simon grinned as he hefted a Milcor 22-A automatic assault rifle with infrared sighting; this gun fired heavy armor-piercing shells that should make short work of a Knacker’s exoskeleton. The recoil was fierce, but a strong man could wreak some havoc with this baby. He asked Tyrus, who nodded and said that it was his to use. Add a couple of grenades slung on his belt, along with his Service weapon, and he was ready to go Crab hunting.
There was only so much preparation one could do while waiting for action. The family spent most of the remaining down time monitoring the vidscreen in the greatroom. Reports of Knacker landings were flooding in from around the planet. The AirForce valiantly fought the invaders, but the alien intrusion was massive and well coordinated. Once the aliens controlled the near space around Eden, they destroyed all the communications and military satellites. With much of the planetary info-net rendered deaf and blind, it was difficult for the human defenders to obtain field intelligence or act in concert. Owning the high ground also gave the aliens a major tactical advantage. The same destroyer-mounted energy weapons that had wiped out the human space fleet now rained down destruction on AirForce bases around the world. They knocked out many of the ground-based defenses that might otherwise have prevented landers from setting down. Then, once the way was clear, they came. By the millions, the Knackers came.
The alien lander vehicles were nothing more than massive transports. Each vessel was shaped like a giant floating pyramid, and contained within its walls ample space to hold one hundred thousand Knackers, plus easily that number of human captives. And they descended by the hundreds. They were slow-moving, ungainly, and possessed few weapons, relying on fighter craft to fly cover for them. But the effect on a planet when they disgorged their hordes of warriors was devastating.
Simon and the family watched in horror as the news reports showed fighting on the ground and in the air overhead. The night skies over major cities lit up with the lightning bolts of energy beams and the shooting-star tracers of projectile weapons. Alien and human fighters streaked across the heavens on jets of yellow and white flame, and ruined ships exploded like fireworks high overhead, or fell spectacularly from the sky in glowing red fireballs, the flames doubling as funeral pyres for the pilots within.
On the ground, courageous reporters risked their lives providing field reports that might save others. One video crew was present almost at ground zero when a lander came down. The camera showed the noon sky darkened as the sun was blotted out, and a rushing roar drowned out the reporter’s voice as if a tornado was bearing down on him. One could hear a faint, “Oh my God” as the man pointed frantically and the camera turned to follow his finger. The scene was from Port Helicon, a coastal city of five hundred thousand on the opposite side of the continent. The unsteady image tracked a black pyramidal shape of unbelievable mass descending from the sky, its base glowing blue as hundreds of thrusters effortlessly balanced its bulk. When it touched down in the midst of the city, the craft obliterated an entire block of buildings, crushing them flat to the ground as their walls crumbled and windows blew outward from the explosive compression. The grinding roar was accompanied by a blinding expulsion of dust and debris from beneath the craft as it settled to its final resting positio
n. The cloud spread outward at hundreds of kilometers per hour, engulfing the camera crew within seconds. The images following were chaotic, with glimpses of men and women bent over coughing, and everything blurred through the haze. After a few minutes the air began to clear slightly, and a woman emerged stumbling from the fog. She grimaced and turned toward the videographer, saying, “What’s that smell?” A few seconds later she shrieked as she looked beyond the camera, the whites of her eyes showing clearly as she backed away. The camera view began to turn, then violently jostled as a male scream joined the woman’s.
Abruptly the image shifted, and came to rest showing a close up view of the ground; it was obvious that the equipment had been dropped. The cries in the background tailed off, and for a few moments silence reigned. Then the camera’s microphone began to pick up a scrabbling noise that gradually grew louder. Suddenly a jointed appendage hit the ground in front of the camera, causing everyone in the greatroom to jump. The limb was mottled green and brown, and ended in a three-pronged claw like a mutated lobster, but this was covered in coarse brown hair as well. That single detail was enough to mark it as undeniably alien; no creature in the known human worlds possessed an appendage like this.
No sooner had they taken the image in, then the camera angle shifted again, turning toward the sky. It slid quickly across something large, and they caught a brief glimpse of multifaceted red eyes aligned in a row, and large curved chelicerae resembling the fangs of a spider. Rapid popping and clicking sounds filled the microphone for a few seconds, and then the camera went dead.
The greatroom was silent as the vidscreen played static. Simon shook himself and glanced around the room. Tyrus’s expression suggested he could have eaten a Knacker raw right then. His wife sat next to him on the sofa, her hand still over her mouth as she stared in shock at the silent screen. Little Jessie had her head buried in her mother’s chest, and Katherine held her, making not a sound as tears streamed down her face as well. She caught Simon’s glance and gazed back at him unabashed. She had a strength, that was obvious, but he knew that this conflict would reopen old wounds, and he worried about how it would affect her. He smiled sympathetically as he glanced down at Jessie, and he caught a flash of something—was it gratitude?—in Katherine’s eyes before she looked away.
The other reports they saw over the next day and a half were no better. Military defenses crumbled, cities fell, and humans were herded by the thousands into giant waiting pyramids, never to be seen again. One by one the video broadcasts winked out, as fewer and fewer networks remained on air. Simon and the McKinleys were truly on their own.
Chapter Four
It wasn’t until the following afternoon that the perimeter sensors around the homestead property triggered an alarm. Simon was shaving in his room when his wrist monitor flashed red and began beeping shrilly. He threw down his razor, wiped his face hurriedly and darted out of his room. The prearranged rendezvous location was the greatroom, and within minutes all the family members had converged there. Tyrus pulled up a schematic of the property on the vidscreen, and the alarm signal winked from a point near the main road. “Just as I thought,” he growled. “They came up the highway after finding your ship, instead of taking the more direct route through Dark Hollow. The Crabs were always timid when it came to tackling the deep woods. They remind me of city folk, only uglier.”
“They’ll likely follow the driveway up to the house, if they stay true to form,” Simon offered.
“That’s the idea,” Tyrus answered. “Why do you think there are so many fences crisscrossing our property? It’s not like we’ve got herds to manage. The Crabs tend to follow the easy path, and high stone fences make travel difficult. Their floaters can get over, but the tracked vehicles would have to smash through, and their foot troops climb over, each line of fencing. It’s more efficient to follow the open road, and Knackers like efficiency.” He grinned evilly. “They still haven’t caught on to the concept of ‘ambush’.”
“We’d best get into position,” Simon said.
“Agreed. Everyone to your stations,” Tyrus told his assembled family. “You all know what to do. Remember, no one fires until I do. Surprise is the key! Let’s move!”
The landscaping in place around the McKinleys’ home was both tasteful and tactical. A high stone wall surrounded the yard on all sides, its only gap being the gate where the main driveway came through. The large open space in front of the house included parking and rock garden areas. The latter had several widely spaced boulders, which served as focal points for the garden, and also made perfect shelters for gunners to crouch behind. The upper windows of the house had heavy shutters that could be closed down to narrow gun slits. The shutters were made of three-centimeter thick plastalloy, able to resist hand-held projectile and energy weapons alike. The house itself was constructed of wood and stone with an eye to durability. The stone was native granite, and most of the frame was cured Ironwood, one of the densest and most fire-resistant plant materials known. The home’s lower windows were deliberately small, preventing direct ingress by the Knackers.
The high fence wall and the house hemmed in the north and south sides of the parking area respectively. In addition, the rock garden bordered its east end, and the equipment shed loomed to the west. This effectively turned the parking lot into a semi-enclosed courtyard, into which the defenders could pour weapons fire from three different directions. It was a great killing field, or so the humans hoped.
Knackers might be predictable, but they weren’t stupid. They hadn’t survived millennia of warfare by barreling recklessly into danger. Tyrus took position in his home’s upper story, and eased his farscope through the slitted window to scan the driveway leading from the main road. Eventually he saw movement, and he zoomed the focus to get a good look. There they were, two Crab soldiers on foot, moving deliberately down the drive like giant spiders stalking prey. The dark forms stood out starkly against the pale gray of the gravel road. Their furred limbs moved fluidly in a complex rhythm, with several planted on the ground and several others moving forward at any instant. It had been years since Tyrus had seen the aliens in person, and he gritted his teeth as memories came flooding back. He vowed that this time there would be payback. Looking again through his scope, he took notes on the enemy soldiers. Each was holding at least two weapons and what looked to be a sensor pack. Ah, to have ten limbs.
Tyrus adjusted his airwave receiver through a variety of frequencies, and eventually found the one the aliens were broadcasting on. The soft ‘put-put-put’ of the alien tongue, interspersed with sharp clicks and rasps, was all too familiar, and a chill ran up his spine as the device brought the sounds close to him.
He raised his wrist to his mouth and spoke softly into the communicator. “Be alert, everyone. Two Crabs coming down the road. On foot, well armed. Should be here in a minute or two.”
Simon gripped his heavy automatic tightly and took a few deep breaths. From his position in the equipment shed he had a good view of the parking area, but he could see nothing beyond the fence. He kept his eyes on the open gate, knowing that the Knackers would first show themselves there. His role in the coming skirmish was vital, but dangerous. Taking inspiration from his first encounter with Tyrus, he had offered to act as bait, sitting alone in the shed without his companion pet. This, they hoped, would make him the one human easily detected by the aliens’ scanners. Seeing a lone target might make the Crabs less cautious, enticing them to move boldly to attack. Therein should lie their downfall. If not, then Simon could be in trouble really fast.
The wait seemed interminable to the human defenders lying in ambush. The three brothers crouched hidden behind the rock garden boulders, Simon behind his mostly-closed shed doors, and the rest of the family at windows on the upper floor of the house. In addition to his weapon, Tyrus held a remote control device that could trigger several different actions, when the time came.
Suddenly a clawed appendage reached carefully through the open gate
from beyond the fence. It held a square device, which it slowly panned back and forth for a few moments. When it was pointed in Simon’s direction, it paused, and then withdrew out of sight once again.
A clatter resembling the sounds made by hoofed animals arose from beyond the gate. Seconds later the two aliens appeared in full view. For those who had not seen them up close before, the creatures were startling to behold. As tall as a grown man, but considerably more bulky, they had ten multi-jointed limbs which sprouted out of an elongated body vaguely shaped like a human torso, but carried horizontally. The hard exoskeletons were mottled brown and black with traces of red, and covered with coarse brown fur along the top of the body, and on the lower portions of the limbs. Their large heads sported long curved fangs, jutting out just below a row of six large red eyes. Above the eyes two appendages resembling insect antennae waved randomly as the aliens eased into the open.
The Knackers’ limbs appeared multifunctional. The rear six bore the creatures’ weight, while the remaining limbs to the fore were currently elevated and carried weapons, plus the sensor boxes Tyrus had noted before. The two aliens crept forward side by side, still moving their scanners to left and right. Once again they paused when the scanners were pointed in Simon’s direction. They turned toward each other and touched antennae for a few seconds. Then the two aliens whirled as one and rushed toward the equipment shed.
The speed with which the Knackers moved took Tyrus by surprise. Their multiple legs scuttled across the lot faster than a man could run, and they were halfway to the shed before he could react. Raising his communicator to his mouth, he shouted, “Fire!” while simultaneously tracking the lead alien with his energy pistol and squeezing off a shot. Without waiting to see its effect, he dropped his gaze to the control box in his left hand, punching two buttons on the panel. One sent out a jamming signal on the frequency that the Crabs were using, to cut off their communications. The second button activated the driveway gate, rolling it closed behind the aliens. As it slammed shut, the defenders in the house opened fire, and all hell broke loose.
The Battle for Eden Page 5
