by Chucho Jones
The pig skin sac of air ricocheted of Oliver’s chest. He fell to the ground as that panicky feeling began to ensue. He felt another seizure episode coming on, and the daylight began to flicker in his mind as it mixed with strange, alien transcriptions. The same ones he had always seen.
* * *
Victoria looked around in panic and couldn’t believe what was happening to Oliver. Did McCoy kill him? Was he having one of his episodes?
She ran to main building, opening the door, and jumping down the stairs to the main deck. Through a thick, glass window she knocked repeatedly
Her dad, General Banks, stood there looking more concerned than usual. He chewed on a cigar as his silver sideburns contrasted nicely on his dark skin. He was scanning documents with a lower ranking officer, a man wearing a white lab coat.
Victoria flailed her hands in alarm from the other side.
“Sir?” one officer said to General Banks, waiting for permission.
“Let her in,” Banks commanded.
“Dad!” Victoria yelled.
“Victoria? What is it?”
“It’s Oliver. He’s spasming again.”
“Oliver? I told McCoy to watch after him if he was coming here.”
“He’s on the lawn,” McCoy interrupted from the top of the stairs.
General Banks dropped his portfolio and ran up the stairs with Victoria to meet McCoy. Outside, they could see Oliver was missing, save for his open backpack sprawled on the ground.
“You should have stayed with him,” General Banks said to McCoy.
“But he was just here,” McCoy said.
“We have to call his uncle,” Victoria said.
“We can’t have wandering civilians around the base,” General Banks affirmed.
“I know. Sorry, sir,” McCoy said, absently.
Victoria scanned the field, looking for a trace of where the small boy could’ve gone. On the brick wall, she noticed something strange. Scratches of a familiar, yet unearthly language gouged into the red brick mortar stopping just at the corner edge.
She slowly rounded the corner and saw Oliver Hawke fixated into a trance, furiously scratching text into the brick wall. His eyes rolled back and mumbled chants indiscernible to the untrained ear. Her father and McCoy ran up behind her and recognized the familiar symptoms of Oliver’s seizures.
“What the hell is a matter with him?” McCoy asked.
General Banks was silent.
Oliver began to shake uncontrollably, a new symptom that hadn’y been seen until that very moment.
“Dad, what’s happening to him?” Victoria asked.
At that moment, flocks of alarmed birds flew overhead in droves. A sonic boom hit the air above so hard that it shook the ground, knocking the group down. Hundreds of streaks of meteor-like trails blazed into the atmosphere above, slamming into the base and surrounding trees. General Banks covered Victoria instinctively, demonstrating his years of training in corp.
Alarms rang out on the base as soldiers took cover from the attack. Victoria reached for Oliver, but the general held onto her as they waited for the smoke and debris to clear.
“Leave no man behind, Dad,” Victoria said, scrambling to Oliver.
A relief came over her when she saw he was not harmed, but still catatonic. She brushed his dusty black hair back, revealing his thick framed glasses, which probably didn’t break because they were so thick. Victoria smiled to herself, despite the chaos around her.
She scanned the field to see a soldier extinguishing the small fires that erupted from the attack. Her father was limping with his old, bad knee and barking orders into a large walkie-talkie. McCoy was nowhere to be found, and that’s when she saw odd shaped flap of metal in the dirt that read on the side “OMEGA”.
4
Chapter 4
Auroville’s back roads were winding and relentless to the average driver. Some roads curved and dipped in the dark green, alpine setting without warning, earning the name “Dead Man’s Pass”.
This part of Auroville allowed for Leon to practice his runs, as he loved taking his modded, shiny, blue Ford Fairmont out for a spin, which he affectionately called ‘Avante’ for Avantgarde.
The black asphalt hugged the new rubber tires tight to the ground. Avante purred along the stretches and stuck to the track. Leon slowed into the upcoming curve, hitting the center of the arc and stomping the accelerator out of it. The engine roared unnaturally from Oliver’s additions, and Leon found himself to be truly happy in that moment.
He reached the bottom of the deadly curves, which opened into flat plains where the air was warmer. He could see Lake Tahoe off in the distance and the Silver Wing Academy.
His old training grounds.
Leon smirked to himself, glad that part of his life was over. It was like a blast from the past. It was his Sister’s career now and better her than him. Despite the bad taste left in his mouth from years of subjugated training, he preferred having his foot on the pedal and behind the wheel.
He punched the gas and the engine hissed, pulling him faster along a straight away. He reached over and switched on a receiver, blaring the local hit of the time, “Rock Around the Clock”. He watched the yellow fields of wheat whiz past him in a blur as flocks of birds flew overhead in swarms.
Leon hit the brakes and propped himself up out of the convertible. In what seemed like slow motion, he watched a slew of debris streak across the sky, barreling down on the training grounds and the surrounding area.
“Laura?” he said to himself.
Leon threw himself into the driver’s seat, firing up the engine of Avante and jetting down the dirt road that lead to the base. The streaks of debris overhead were relentless as he got closer. He maneuvered old blue Betsy back and forth, dodging the incoming fiery chunks. He looked out the window, watching carefully in hopes of gauging where the next piece might touch down.
Leon hit the brakes and skidded to a stop, and the dust that followed behind him rolled up in billows that occluded his vision. He waved furiously and coughed from the suffocating dust.
As the air cleared, a subtle streak in the sky trailed a small pod-like ship that was larger than the other debris, disappearing behind the tree line. He recognized the standard issued escape vessel and hoped his sister was on it.
* * *
Leon drove through the gated fence of the Silver Wing Academy where soldiers and cadets were still snubbing the fires. He slammed on the brakes and brought the car to a sudden stop just before two heavily armed soldiers drew their weapons. One of the guards immediately recognized the old cadet and smirked with contempt.
Leon hopped out of Avante in a cool motion. “What the hell happened?”
“Beat it, Worthlesston. You’re not cleared for this facility,” the guard said.
“Cleared? The name is Worthington,” Leon said as he kept his approach toward them. “How about you tell me where my sister is?”
Leon decked the guard in the face and grabbed his rifle as he stumbled back. He then spun the weapon in the direction of the other guard. “You wanna see my clearance?”
The guard stood there, not budging. Leon nodded as he kicked in the door to the main facility. Downstairs, he came to a large window and a metal door that led into the part of the command deck. General Banks stood next to Cadet Dave McCoy and a man in a lab coat named Doctor Dickens. Blinking just over head on a large screen a message read ‘Connection Lost’.
Leon pounded on the door furiously. Doctor Dickens smiled, contrasting the emotive expression that the general and McCoy had. McCoy guarded himself.
“Leon,” Doctor Dickens said, running to the door.
“Who let the reject in?” McCoy said under his breath.
Doctor Dickens unhatched the door, and Leon shot in like a hot missile. He grabbed General Banks by collar and raised his fist.
“Leon! Don’t!” Dickens said.
“What the hell happened to my sister?” Leon yelled.
&
nbsp; Dave McCoy jumped on Leon and pulled him back. Leon struck an elbow to McCoy’s face, knocking him back in a tumble. This offered General Banks a split second to give Leon the right hook he’d always wanted to. Leon fell to the ground as two cadets ran in to secure him in cuffs.
“Get him out of here,” General Banks said.
“What happened to Laura?” Leon asked, retaining a calmer composure.
“Laura did what she had to do for Oliver,” General Banks said, looking to the Med room Victoria was in with Oliver.
“Bullshit. You put her on a suicide mission,” Leon fired back.
Leon could see General Banks frustration of leaking too much information overcome him. He pursed his lips tightly.
“Listen, calm down. When we know something, you’ll know something,” Banks said with ease, like reading a script.
Victoria’s walked into the room and lifted her voice in a surprising tone, “Leon?”
“Victoria, where is Oliver?” Leon asked.
“Uh, he’s doing that thing again,” she said, obvious worry on her face.
The general nodded for the guards to take Leon to see Oliver. With two guards on each side of him and twisting both arms back, all he saw was a missing table.
“Perhaps I should monitor the boy’s condition as well,” Doctor Dicken’s replied.
Oliver was now standing by the wall, scratching strange symbols of alien scripture. His mouth moved chaotically, wording the inflections of strange sounds. Leon watched his nephew and wondered if he would ever be normal again.
5
Chapter 5
The medical bay of the Silver Wing Academy was standard issue. White walls with accents of periwinkle blue. A sharp astringent and clean metal smell filled the room. Despite the putrid odor, Oliver continued to scratch alien mathematical formulas into the wall with the surgeon’s scalpel.
Victoria tried to call to him. “Oliver? Are you all right?”
Oliver held a blank stare, his hands still frantically writing. Leon waited for the right moment and shook the guards from his back. The general saw Leon’s concern for his nephew in his eyes.
“Let him go,” Banks ordered.
Leon walked next to Oliver, observing the strange yet familiar condition. He slowly pulled the scalpel away and slugged Oliver in the arm as hard as he could. Oliver turned his head toward his uncle with the same blank stare and then proceeded to continue to write with his finger.
“Come on, kid, snap out of it,” Leon said, looking back at Banks. “I don’t get it. They usually don’t last this long.”
A tall man with a chisel cut chin and fresh pressed uniform entered the main deck. Commander Steve McCoy, Dave McCoy’s father, held the all-American hero look about him, despite his son not receiving the genes. His gaze was stern, exuding an authority only second to General Banks.
“General, sir?” Commander McCoy said.
“Yes, Commander?”
“We need your attention immediately on concerning matters,” Commander McCoy said.
Banks looked ill regarding the situation that had transpired and nodded to Commander McCoy. “Leon, take Oliver home and get him rest. Victoria, stay with Oliver until we have more information.”
“I can take them, General,” Cadet McCoy said.
“That will be all,” General Banks said as he left with Commander McCoy.
* * *
Victoria admired Leon’s disheveled James Dean-like style. She bent down, reached into her sock, and pulled out a pack of gum. She was sure to see Dave while she handed Leon a piece while she took one for herself.
“How long do these fits of his last?” McCoy asked, trying to disregard Victoria’s advances toward Leon.
“I can never tell,” Leon said.
“About once a month for a couple days,” Victoria said, as she used her hands to mime an explosion. “Then, wham. An explosion of ideas come out.”
“Well, if it weren’t for his help the other night, you would be packing up and hitting the road, junky,” McCoy said.
“Oh, please, Dave. I’ve seen Leon’s driving. He would have made an impeccable Silver Wing,” Victoria said, her eyes fluttering at Leon.
Leon caught onto her advances and laughed. “What are you? Fourteen?”
“I am sixteen.” Victoria said, leaning back against the table and smiling.
“Well, the general sure raised a nice, young lady. Now, tend to my nephew and get him home. You heard General Banks. Don’t sweat the ride kid, I’ve got my own.”
6
Chapter 6
Sixty-five thousand miles from Earth, on the other side of the Galaxy, a sleek spaceship rippled out of hyperspace. The Gorgazon-X housed ringed arcs around its hull, aiding in the transport in faster-than-light speed travel. A local star shined brightly onto its metallic-like surface as it passed a fleet of ships. It cruised into the shadow of the large mothership and into the hanger bay that seemed to swallow it whole within a membrane.
Like an empty mech suit, half of a cybernetic organism floated in a goop of vitroplasmic cocoon. It was the only thing that preserved the insectoid flesh that remained in the ship.
GR-3G wasn’t concerned, though. He had been many things in his lifetime. Many amalgamations, cybernetic enhanced over the years. This would be his last concern as he was returning home without the one thing that gave him purpose.
He looked at his missing cybernetic arm. The Quantum Wielder was meant only for him, and now he was nothing. GR-3G watched the large, mechanical arms of the docking bay grab his ship and rotate it around into a perfect docking spot among hundreds of other pods. A bright red light shined within the cabin as the minion aliens assessed the damage and situation.
What seemed like a small booth far away, housed a large observatory deck. The silhouette of a vile creature with squid-like tentacles for a head paced back and forth. GR-3G knew Kha Tse was waiting for him—waiting for what was lost. The red light flashed in a final scan, and the darkness put GR-3G at ease.
* * *
Kha Tse’s skin was slick as a snake with the rubberiness of a squid. Her head had tentacles that framed her shoulders and back was sickening yet beautiful. A longer tentacle tail balanced her stance with a stare just as firm.
She waited impatiently for the scans to read back. Her head twitched, and her emotions were high. She trusted GR-3G to bring back what mattered most to the Forefather. And she couldn’t wait to show him that she, alone, had retrieved the powerful Quantessence.
A projection scanned alien code in a vertical interlacing format. Kha Tse watched a cocoon form, revealing the contents inside. GR-3G, or what remained of him, floated in the pink goo. His vitals showed he was conscious, but heavily damaged.
An alarm signaled loudly, and Kha Tse saw the most disturbing factor—his missing arm. The Quantum Wielder was the only thing able to grasp the power of the Quantessence. What creature was able to outwit GR-3G? Kha Tse studied the scan more, noticing the shape that was familiar to a hominoid creature.
“He brought back a carbon-based hominid?” Kha Tse said to herself.
The alien scientist minions boarded GR-3G’s ship. They pulled in a hosing system and began spraying a green liquid that broke down the pink cocoon. As the pieces fell, Kha Tse stormed off, pushing her minions out of the way.
“Mistress, the interceptor GR-3G failed to retrieve the Quantessence… His Quantum Wielder is missing,” a minion said.
Kha Tse tried to hide her anger. “Probe what’s left of him. Download any information.”
“There’s a life form on board, as well,” the minion said.
“Yes, I know. A hominid female,” Kha Tse agreed. “Send her to my Master Chambers for interrogation.”
“What about the interceptor?” the minion asked, pointing to GR-3G.
“Dispose of him. He’s of no more use,” Kha Tse said.
7
Chapter 7
The intelligence room of the Silver Wing Academy was three flo
ors under the main facility. Accents of cheap, plastic wood paneling built by the lowest bidder was crowned by a blue pillow padded logo overhead of a silver bird on the back wall.
General Banks puffed his chewed up, wet cigar one more time. “Play the recording again.”
“General, we’ve heard it already. We need to find the pod,” Doctor Dickens said overlooking his notes.
“Damn it, Dickens! Just play the recording,” General Banks ordered.
Doctor Dickens reached over past Commander Steve McCoy to rewind the large tape deck and press the play button once again. Disappointment painted their faces. Doctor Dickens began scribing notes one more time.
A series of beeps led to Laura Hawke’s voice, hesitant and regretful as it resounded over the P.A. “Do you copy? I repeat, do you copy? Over?”
“Laura, what’s the status up there? How’s the crew?” Banks recorded voice asked.
“Glad I could finally patch through. The ship split. It’s all my fault, General. We needed to EVA across from the upper part of the ship. I’m sorry, but I think I have what we’ve been seeking. Look for Pod 0102.”
“Laura, what the heck are you saying? Confirm your status, Major. That’s an order!” Banks recorded voice yelled.
“Please, tell Oliver that I believe in him,” Laura interrupted. “I think we’ve got the answers. I’ll make sure it makes it home safely. This is Major Laura Quail Hawke reporting. Over and out.”
Banks watched Commander McCoy with a stern, motionless expression. He then turned to Doctor Dickens, who was scribbling notes furiously. “Where do you think that pod landed?”
“With my calculations, it could be within five-mile radius of us. However…” Doctor Dickens added.
