“That’s a good boy,” the guy said, taunting. “Get used to it. It’s your turn to clean up after us.”
I looked the guy in the eye and saw something I didn’t expect. At first I thought he was a typical bully who was showing off for his friends. That’s what bullies did for laughs and to prove their superiority. That’s not what I got from this guy. He wasn’t laughing. His buddies weren’t either. They all glared at me with contempt. Though I was the one being abused and had every right to be angry, it felt as though these guys truly hated me. This wasn’t some dumb prank, it was punishment.
“Say thank you,” the guy said through gritted teeth.
I didn’t get it. Why was I supposed to thank him after I picked up his cup?
“Thank you,” I muttered. It wasn’t worth getting into a fight over and drawing the attention of Retro soldiers.
The guy held up a threatening finger and said, “You’re lucky to still be here. Remember that.”
With that, the group moved on.
I wanted to run after them and ask what he meant, but Tori grabbed my arm and pulled me toward the building.
“Let it go,” she ordered.
“What was that about?” I asked, more confused than angry.
“Yeah,” Kent said. “I’m not feeling all that lucky to be here.”
“Did you see him?” I asked. “He wanted to take my head off.”
“I saw it,” Tori said. “I don’t get it either.”
We continued on toward the building and came face-to-face with a single Retro soldier who stood blocking our way. It was a woman who looked to be my mom’s age, wearing fatigues and a black beret.
“Hold it right there,” she commanded.
We stopped and immediately looked to the ground to show subservience. After all, we were lowly primates.
“What’s your number?” she asked.
For a second I didn’t know what she was talking about.
“He’s Zero Three One One,” Tori said for me.
I saw the outline of the baton weapon up Tori’s sleeve. She was ready to bring it out the second things went south.
The Retro soldier frowned. Something was wrong. It seemed as though she knew we weren’t supposed to be there, but how could she? She raised her handheld device and quickly input something.
Tori grabbed my arm and pulled me away from the curious woman.
“Sorry, ma’am,” Tori said. “We’ve got orders to report inside and we’re very late.”
“No, wait!” she called out.
We didn’t.
I expected the soldier to pull out a baton and start firing at us. Or sound an alarm. I stole a quick look back to see she was watching us, but more with curiosity and confusion than with disdain. For some reason she was having trouble processing our existence.
“Are you crazy?” Kent whispered urgently to Tori.
“Crazier to stay there,” Tori said back. “I’m not gonna just sit still and let them grab us.”
Kent glanced back and said, “She’s not coming after us.”
“Just keep moving,” Tori commanded.
We picked up the pace, and seconds later we entered through the swinging doors of the large building. Once safely inside, we stopped in what was a huge atrium-like lobby.
“Did you know her?” Tori asked me.
“No. How would I know her?”
“She sure seemed to know you,” Kent said. “I’ll bet she’s texting Bova right now. Or Feit.”
“All the more reason to keep moving,” I said and walked on, moving deeper into the building.
“Pretend like you’re sweeping,” I said to Kent.
He dropped the broom to the floor and gave it a few half-hearted pushes.
The place was bustling with people moving quickly as if late for appointments. There were a few soldiers in uniform scattered through the crowd, but mostly everyone wore the dark-pants-colorful-shirt combo. There were both men and women, and all sorts of ethnic groups represented as well. What I didn’t see were any kids or elderly folks. It was an evenly mixed, racially diverse group. The only thing they had in common, besides their outfits, was their total disdain for us. People blew by us like we were air. A few threw angry glares at us, but there was no more contact than that.
As with the group of people outside, none of them spoke to one another. There was no socializing. No chatter. No laughter. These people were all business.
A long, wide corridor stretched out from the far end of the lobby. A group of people all wearing red shirts hurried through as if they had just been released from a meeting. Nobody spoke. Nobody laughed. Nobody communicated in any way other than to look at their handheld devices.
They all seemed as emotionless and drone-like as their black fighter planes.
“I want to see what’s going on back there,” I said and made my way through the busy lobby.
To either side of the corridor were large rooms that appeared to be lecture halls. Each room was filled with people, all wearing the same colored shirt, all facing someone behind a lectern giving a speech. The rooms were open so it was easy to hear what each speaker was saying.
The speaker in the first room was a gray-haired guy who could have been a college professor. He wore the black-and-gray camouflage fatigues of the Retros. Floating in space behind him was a 3-D hologram of some sort of device with pipes and gauges.
“. . . continuing the supply of safe, clean drinking water is crucial. You will each be assigned to a critical filtration plant where your principal duty will be to keep the water flowing. If there are native survivors you can press into service to take advantage of their expertise, all the better, but our goal here will be to educate you on how to maintain and repair these systems without the need for native support.”
As he turned to refer to his floating diagram I motioned for the others to follow me to the next speech. We passed a wall that separated the two groups to find another lecture hall packed with people who all wore the same forest-green-colored shirts. On the stage was a woman in fatigues who was backed by the 3-D image of what looked like a massive herd of cows.
“. . . this feedlot in Greely, Colorado, was left intact. We have sent in operatives to ensure the continued health of the herd, but the effort to feed the colonies will be a great one that will require massive manpower. There are feedlots similar to this one all over the globe. They will be the principal source of our meat. Our protein. Refer to your tablets to learn of your assignments and the farms where you will be assigned.”
We moved on to the next lecture to find the audience was filled with uniformed Retro soldiers. My heart started to beat faster. Tori clutched my hand.
Giving this lecture was a heavyset guy with a buzz cut and golden eagles on his shoulders.
“. . . these are not your friends. They are not your brothers. When you look at the natives, there is only one thing that you should be thinking: You reap what you sow. Feel no pity for them. They have brought this on themselves. They are culpable and now they have paid the price. Do not form emotional bonds or friendships in any way, shape, or form. Do not deviate from the mission. Treating the natives like humans is a treasonable offense. Let me repeat that: a treasonable offense. Are there any questions?”
Nobody raised a hand.
“I’m guessing we’re the natives they’re talking about,” Kent whispered.
“They’re being brainwashed to hate us,” Tori added softly.
We continued down the long corridor of lecture halls hearing talks on topics like waste removal, housing, future dome construction, electrical power, and the proper use and administration of the Ruby to the natives. Us.
The three of us made it to the far end of the corridor after hearing an earful. A door led out of the hallway and into a stairwell where we could talk freely. We stood there for a lo
ng while, trying to get our minds around what we had just witnessed.
“It’s an invasion all right,” Kent finally said. “They’re training people to run the world. Our world. I’m telling you, they’re aliens.”
“I just can’t believe that,” I said.
“Really?” Kent shot back, exasperated. “Then what makes sense to you? That thousands of crazies from all over the world left their normal lives, got together to build this crappy city, and convinced the United States Air Force to wipe out most of the rest of the world’s population so that they could step in and run things their way? Oh yeah, and along the way they invented freaking mad technology and figured out how to manufacture it all without anybody knowing they were up to no good until it was too late? Is that what works for you?”
I wanted to argue and offer a reasonable counter-theory, but I had nothing.
“I think maybe Kent’s right,” Tori said meekly.
“Damn right I am!” Kent shouted, pacing anxiously. “We were invaded by aliens. They could be robots for all we know. They sure act like it. They studied us, they know how everything works, they think we’re no better than bugs, and they are about to overrun the planet. It’s over, Tucker. We lost. Get used to that orange suit because you’ll be spending the rest of your life in it. Or what’s left of it.”
“Suppose it is aliens,” Tori said. “That still doesn’t explain how they were able to construct this city and take over the United States Air Force.”
“I don’t think we’re on Earth, that’s how,” Kent said. “That transport thing shot us to the other side of the universe and this is planet Torchyourbutt.”
“No,” I said bluntly. “That isn’t it.”
“Why not?” Kent said. “Because it’s too hard to believe? I’ll believe just about anything right now.”
“Because there’s something odd about this place,” I said. “I can’t put my finger on it but there’s something wrong here.”
“Gee, you think?” Kent said sarcastically.
“I want a better look at this city,” I said and went for a flight of stairs that led up.
I took the stairs two at a time, climbing higher through multiple floors until I reached a dead end and a door that I didn’t hesitate to push open. We were hit with a rush of stinking hot air as we stepped out onto the vast, flat roof of the huge building.
We were higher than any of the surrounding buildings and now we could see for miles. The city before us was an extensive, clogged mass of similarly ugly structures. The hideous sprawl went on for mile after mile. There were no parks, no ball fields, and no green spaces whatsoever. None of the buildings had any character. It was one squat, sand-colored cube after another.
Again, the chemical smell hit hard.
“That’s where it’s coming from,” I said, pointing to my right.
Far in the distance, one end of the city was taken up by what looked to be factories. Soaring stacks belched dark, colorful smoke that joined to form massive clouds of industrial particles that hung over the city like a filthy rainbow.
“That’s what we’re smelling,” I said. “It must be where they’re building the planes.”
The only other structure that stood out was the giant steel dome that loomed high, not far from us. The rest of the city was a crowded, filthy dump.
“We really did come through the gate to hell,” Kent said, soberly.
“This is . . . this is wrong,” Tori said, stunned. “I’ve never heard of any city that looks like this and rains acid.”
“I don’t think anybody has,” I said. “This place must have been built secretly to prepare for the invasion. This is where the Retros have come to live and prepare to take over the world.”
“How is that possible?” Tori asked with growing frustration. “You can’t just build a secret city. Forget the government; anybody could see it on Google Earth.”
“But we’re not on Earth,” Kent said, adamantly. “You’d have more luck checking Google Pluto! That’s the only explanation. Whatever crappy planet this is they’ve found a way to transport themselves across the universe. And why not? Compared to this dump, Earth is a pretty sweet place to move in on.”
“I don’t know,” Tori said, bewildered. “Maybe you’re right.”
“Of course I’m right!” Kent shot back.
There was still something bothering me. It wasn’t just because it was hard to wrap my head around the idea that we had been transported to a strange, filthy planet in a galaxy far, far away. It was just the opposite. As alien as this place was, it also felt somehow . . . familiar.
“I still don’t buy it,” I said and strolled across the vast rooftop. “There’s a single yellow sun in a blue sky. It’s hot, but bearable. It may be polluted but we can breathe in this atmosphere. The people not only don’t look alien, they represent every ethnic group that exists and they speak English. How is it possible that another planet could be so much like Earth?”
“I told you,” Kent said. “They’ve studied us. They probably shape-shifted themselves to look and act like us. They did their homework.”
“No,” I said. “We’re missing something.”
I gazed out at the city. It truly was a wasteland. It didn’t add up that the people who built it had the knowledge to use such advanced technology, yet lived in obscene squalor.
My eyes wandered further out, beyond the edges of the city. We sat on pancake-flat land that was surrounded by arid, rocky mountains. I did a slow turn, taking in the full panorama.
That’s when it clicked.
Maybe it was the heat, or the small rocky ridge that rose up close to the city. It might have been the image of the giant steel dome backed by the distant range. Or maybe it was just the constant swirl of sand that collected in every corner and parched my throat. It was probably the combination of everything.
The reality of what I suddenly understood made my head go light.
“We’re not on another planet,” I declared.
“Rookie!” Kent shouted in exasperation. “You’re killing me. What other explanation is there?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “I can’t explain why, or how, or what it all means, but I know exactly where we are.”
“Where?” Tori asked. “Where did that portal take us?”
“It didn’t take us anywhere,” I said. “We’re still in the Mojave Desert in the Retro camp.”
My words stunned the others into momentary silence.
Kent was ready to argue but took a look around and said nothing.
Tori walked in a daze to the edge of the roof as she scanned the horizon.
A small blood-red cloud passed over, dropping a second’s worth of rain that crackled when it hit the surface of the roof. Nobody paid any attention.
The three of us stood together, looking out over this filthy city and the exact same Nevada landscape that had become all too familiar.
“This is impossible,” Tori finally said.
“Or maybe not,” Kent said numbly.
“Seriously?” I shot back at him. “You backing off your alien theory?”
“I don’t know. Maybe,” he said with a nervous hitch in his voice. “I’ve read about stuff like this.”
“Where?” I asked, incredulous. “Graphic novels?”
“Well, yeah.”
“That’s science fiction, Kent,” I said, scoffing. “Fiction. That means not real.”
“I know, but a lot of that stuff is based on real theories. Even Einstein thought this might be possible.”
“What are you talking about?” I demanded.
“We could be in another dimension,” he said flatly.
We stood staring at him, too numb to respond. I wanted to laugh, but there was nothing funny about it.
“You can’t be serious,” Tori finally said.
“I’m dead serious,” Kent said, his excitement growing. “There are these theories that different realities can exist in the same physical space. I’m not talking about stories, this is from real scientists. Maybe that portal thing sent us from one dimension into another. Who knows? There could be others too. Hopefully one of ’em is good because this place is total crap and ours is sinking fast.”
I wanted to tell Kent that he was being idiotic, but I held back because I couldn’t come up with a better explanation. Inter-dimensional travel was as good a theory as any.
Tori said, “So you think there’s a whole different reality that exists right alongside ours in some alternate spooky dimension and the people somehow figured out how to break through the barrier so they could invade us? Is that it?”
Kent kicked at the roof nervously. “Well when you put it like that it sounds stupid.”
“Then put it some way that isn’t stupid,” Tori said, scolding.
“Zero Three One One?”
We all spun quickly to see the female Retro soldier who had stopped us on the street outside of the building. This time she wasn’t alone. With her was another Retro soldier . . . who had a weapon.
“What exactly are you doing up here?” she asked.
I did my best to act as if nothing was wrong. I raised the shovel and said, “Cleaning up. Our unit leader sent us here.”
“Your unit leader is building a barracks in the forward base camp, Tucker,” she said.
So much for acting as if nothing was wrong.
“Wait, what? You know my name?”
She held up her communication device. On the screen was my picture.
“This is you, isn’t it?” She asked. “And you’re Tori Sleeper and Kent Berringer?”
“I thought you didn’t keep records of prisoners?” Tori asked.
“Just the ones we’re watching out for,” she replied. “You need to come with me.”
I acted without thinking and threw the shovel at the armed soldier. He was so stunned that his first reaction was to catch it . . . and drop his weapon. I lunged at the guy and tackled him before he could get his wits back.
Strike Page 14
