by C T Glatte
She stared back at him. “No. Not a game. Your pilots do the same. I’ve seen it.” He leaned away and she thought it prudent to change the subject. “How-how am I able to understand you? You’re speaking Russian, but I hear it in my head as English.”
He nodded and touched the left side of her neck. She flinched, feeling the pressure of his fingers touching something. He moved it back and forth and she realized in horror that something was sticking from the side of her neck, embedded. “A translator. A Korth gift.”
She opened her eyes all the way. “Korth? You implanted alien tech into me?”
He grinned and turned his neck and pulled down the heavy wool of his coat, showing her his own neck. She saw some sort of knob. It was a part of his body, with dark neck hair curling around it. “I forget it’s even there. You’ll find it useful. It translates any language, we even understand our benefactor’s language.”
She scowled, “Scalps.”
He nodded and smiled. “Scalps? Yes, of course.”
She looked beyond him when she saw someone else enter. The figure was huge and had to duck low to fit through the doorway. Their wide body filled the entire doorframe and they had to shimmy in sideways. Once inside they stretched to their full height and MaryAnn sucked in a breath when she realized she was witnessing an alien, a Korth, the true enemy. She could only see the silhouette, but though it walked on two thick legs, it was obviously not human.
There was a clicking sound, which made her skin crawl, and she heard the words form in her head. “She’s awake, good.”
The Russian stood and backed away from her, still holding the flashlight. He braced as though in the presence of an officer. “Yes, sir. Just a minute ago.”
“Cut her loose.” The Russian soldier reacted immediately, crouching behind her and using a knife to slice the chords.
MaryAnn felt immediate relief, but the blood returning to her hands made her wince in pain. It was not enough, however, to pull her eyes from the beast in front of her. Her entire life, the Korth were an unknown. There had been sketches, guesses, but light from the flashlight showed her what they actually looked like and she couldn’t tear her eyes away. The creature’s huge sloped head, the black eyes which never wavered, four thick arms, and the most distinctive and fearful part, the mandible like mouth which seemed to be in constant motion, like the legs of a chirping cricket, was so alien.
“Oh my God,” she whispered.
The Korth’s head expanded and changed a lighter shade of red. It spoke and she thought she noticed a hint of mirth in the voice. “No. I’m not your puny god. I’m a Korth warrior.”
The Russian was at her side and he yanked her to her feet. She couldn’t keep from yelping as the pain and stiffness made her light-headed. She swooned and he gripped her arm tighter, holding her upright. The pain from his grip made her pull and she freed herself momentarily from him. He quickly stepped behind her and grasped her arms and pulled them behind her, stretching her shoulders painfully. She stopped struggling.
The Korth clicked and hummed and again she shivered with disgust, like coming across something foul and writhing in a garbage dump. “This one has spirit.” It paused and she felt a dull twinge in the back of her neck. She had the distinct feeling something was inside her brain, digging and probing. She closed her eyes, fighting the dull force. The feeling disappeared quickly and the Korth clicked, “Yes. This one’s special. This is what the TRs requested.”
MaryAnn had no idea what the thing was talking about. She felt a slight pinprick and she suddenly felt an overwhelming and unstoppable desire to sleep and she retreated into darkness.
15
TR Cinter was poised over the top of yet another human subject. She thought this one might be different. It showed some promise, with its brain’s capacity to withstand the probing. Indeed, the bridging was nearly complete and the brain’s function, though not optimal, was still within what was considered normal.
The human was completely still, held fast by blue arcs of energy emitting from a dull-gray slab of metal it lay upon. TR Cinter knew the stillness was deceiving, for without the restraints shutting down muscular response, the human would be uncontrollably writhing in agony. Every nerve ending in its body was on fire with excruciating impulses of energy.
This species’ sensitive nerve endings, so intimately connected to their brains, had confounded previous attempts at bridging. They’d had some success, but their brains, once unleashed, were wild and wholly insane and had to be exterminated immediately.
This subject was handling the bridging better than any others but the hardest part was coming. TR Cinter looked at the assistant, Private Trokon, standing by, with one arm on the control panel, the other three gripping the blue glowing rod which would keep the next step from frying him.
Cinter watched Trokon. He, like all other male Korth were growing needful. The TRs hadn’t turned female since landing on Earth. This had never happened. Cinter and the other TRs could feel there was something emitting from these lowly humans which was blocking the process, some kind of pheromone. They, being such lowly, un-evolved creatures had no control over whatever they emitted and the TRs were committed to bridging their brains, making them hyper-aware so they could control and extract the mysterious substance.
“Ready, Trokon?” Cinter clicked.
Trokon signaled he was and Cinter took over. His three long fingers connected to Cinter and tapped the monitor so fast his fingers blurred. He was a conduit for the TR’s thoughts, a vessel to be used.
Cinter pushed into the human’s brain, pushing past the pain receptors and hovering where the impulses pounded against what felt like a wall. The wall was chipping, falling away from the bombardment of water and proteins which were so prevalent in their systems. The barrier was coming down and the brain was still within normal limits. This would be a successful bridge but would the nerves, which were nearly on fire with energy, turn the brain to mush and insanity before the human could take control of the pain and switch it off?
Cinter felt the wall break; the way was open. This was the moment of truth. The crossing. The connection was excruciating and the limit of this brains’ capacity to withstand it while keeping sane was close at hand.
Cinter added Kroton’s energy waves to his own in an effort to buffer the nerve’s signals but it was impossible to stop the majority of them. Human brains were hard-wired to the pain, it drove them and indeed, kept them alive. The process, the bridging would happen naturally over millennia, assuming their warlike natures didn’t lead to their own extinction, but the TRs wanted to understand what was blocking their own reproduction cycles. It could be weaponized and could possibly be their empire’s salvation.
Then it was done. Cinter released Private Trokon and he dropped the glowing rod and stepped away from the controls, his mandibles clacking and his head deflated and dark. Cinter pulled herself from the human’s consciousness and stepped away from the table. There was only one way to know if the bridging had damaged their mind and that was to observe.
Human orderlies entered at Cinter’s beckoning and pushed the floating metal table toward a wall, which suddenly vanished, opening into a stark, white room. Every inch of it was padded, a lesson learned from the first few attempts at bridging. The table was pushed to the center of the room and they pushed the foot of it down, putting the human upright, but still locked into place with the blue energy arcs.
Three of the four orderlies walked away, the fourth looked frozen in place as Cinter made her stay behind. The human, a female was wide-eyed, obviously petrified. Many past patients had displayed normal behavior until around other beings, at which time they went berserk and tore them apart.
Cinter and the rest of the TRs weren’t interested in wasting time. Either the human was strong enough to sustain the change, or they weren’t and the fastest way to find out was leaving someone in the room when they were released. So far none had been successful, but Cinter thought this one might be differ
ent.
Once out of the room, the three orderlies filed past, keeping their eyes down and disappeared through another wall. Cinter strode toward the now transparent wall and observed the bridged human. His eyes were open but there was no way to tell if they were those of an insane man or not. Cinter didn’t probe his consciousness, it might put them over the edge. TR Gruncy entered and stood beside Cinter and clicked and hummed. “This one looks far more stable than the last.”
Cinter’s head expanded slightly, “Yes, but only slightly. They were at the edge when I had to leave. We’ll know in the next few par-uns.”
Cinter released the grip he held on the female orderly and she seemed to physically droop. She immediately looked at the naked man beside her, fear obvious on her face. Cinter directed her to touch the recessed button beneath the table which would release him. She resisted and Cinter sent a painful jolt and she quickly complied.
The blue arcs disappeared and the naked man slid off the vertical slab of metal. His feet hit the floor with an athletic softness. He was an American soldier, captured in Alaska. He’d been ‘interviewed’ by the local Korth warrior, who’d been told what to look for. He was by far the best specimen thus far.
Of course, they’d tried the procedure countless times on every human variation within the borders of the Korth occupation, but the human brains had weakened since their arrival and that was by design. A slightly impaired mind was easier to control. The Americans and others from the West were not so impaired and the process worked much better, although none had been successful.
Cinter and Gruncy watched the human stand to full height. He looked around the room, not being able to see the Korth watching. He ignored the woman, who stood stock still, breathing fast and staring at her feet. This was a good start.
The man walked around the edge of the room taking in the environment as though searching for a way out. His right hand slid along the padding as he walked.
He stepped to the vertical table and pushed it, but it didn’t budge. He looked to the woman standing in fear, only feet away and Cinter saw the first indication there was something wrong: his male parts became erect.
Gruncy clicked in displeasure, “The human can’t control his primal mating urge.”
Cinter’s head turned a slightly darker shade of red. “We’ll know soon enough.” He’d seen this happen before and hoped he wouldn’t witness it again.
The human approached the woman and circled her like a beast evaluating its next meal. Cinter could see the hunger just beneath the surface, the danger, the insanity. “There’s still a chance. It needs to know it’s wrong. I’m going to try to persuade it.”
Gruncy’s arms reached out, “No,” but it was too late.
Cinter entered the bridged being’s mind and felt the power there. This one was unleashed and the impulses were like a lightning storm. He applied pressure and the lightning was instantly directed back at him. He repulsed it, but it was strong. He pulled back but the door was closing fast.
Cinter dropped to the ground and Gruncy called Private Trokon to help. He did so immediately and lifted Cinter off the ground and placed him on another floating metal slab. Gruncy was beside him and probed his mind cautiously. His head deflated but then inflated and colored pink. “He’s okay, he’s still in there and intact.”
Trokon pointed, “The same cannot be said for the human.” Gruncy looked into the room and his head deflated and blackened. “Animals.”
The male soldier had the woman pinned to the wall and was thrusting into her, his face twisted with anger, lust, and a ferociousness, which made even the Korth, nervous.
The woman’s face was agony, her screams of pain and horror unheard through the soundproofing. Another few seconds and the male, incensed with rage, reached for her neck and brought his mouth down hard. Blood spurted from her and covered the man’s face and body. He tore flesh as he threw his head back and consumed the flesh. Her face went slack and she slid down the wall, her neck pulsing gouts of blood, which slowed with each dying heartbeat. Her dead eyes seemed to look through the wall, seeing the Korth watching, but that was impossible.
“Disgusting creatures,” hissed Private Trokon.
TR Cinter awoke on the metal table and knew he’d failed yet again. Perhaps the humans were just not ready for the unleashing. Perhaps his dream to harness the pheromone and use it to eradicate their enemies was fantasy. But the last one was close, he could feel it. All they needed was to find the correct host, the correct brain.
He sat up and hopped off the table. TR Gruncy was gone, but Private Trokon was ready to assist. “Another failure, TR Cinter.”
Cinter’s head darkened. He looked into the room and saw the bloody mess that had been a human female. The disgusting male, covered in blood was flinging her body around painting the walls with her blood. His mouth was open as though howling like the wolves of the North.
He went to the viewing wall and watched the spectacle. He didn’t dare try to enter the human’s brain now, he’d nearly been trapped inside. He’d postulated the possibility, that once unleashed, the human mind would be difficult, if not impossible, to control and the brief foray into this diseased mongrel’s mind proved the theory correct.
“Exterminate it, please.”
Private Trokon’s color lightened, “My pleasure, TR Cinter.”
The inert table inside the room, suddenly started spinning and the blue arcs of energy shot out and struck the gyrating, howling human who was now violating the corpse. The energy split him open like an exploding water balloon and his body turned to red dust. It was over in a split second.
Cinter turned from the grisly scene. “Get it cleaned, we’ll need the room again.”
Moments later the same three orderlies and a replacement, entered the room and approached the bloody scene. They held mops and buckets, not being trusted with the Korth technology, which could’ve cleaned it thoroughly, in seconds. They’d cleaned many similar scenes and seemed resigned to their fate, each knowing they’d eventually be the body they were cleaning up.
TR Cinter turned away and left the room, leaving through the same door the orderlies had entered.
In the blue lit hallways of the mother-ship, Cinter passed Korth warriors who braced and eyed him suspiciously as they passed. Every Korth on the ship and on the world below wondered why the TRs hadn’t turned female. They tried to hide it, but Cinter could feel they blamed the TRs as if they were doing it on purpose. Nothing, of course, could be further from the truth. Their role was to continue breeding, continue populating the stars with Korth warriors, ships and TRs until all their many enemies were vanquished forever.
TR Gruncy came around the corner and his head turned pink in pleasure. “Another has arrived. An American female fighter pilot and this one may be the one. She is very strong and there is depth I’ve not yet seen in any of the prior subjects.”
Cinter’s mood changed and his head inflated but only a little. He’d had his hopes up before. “A female? How unusual. Take me to her.”
Gruncy bowed slightly and led Cinter through the maze of halls until they entered a blue and red lit loading dock. Korth workers darted around, giving the TRs space. Gruncy said, “She’s in the box over there. See for yourself. She resists.”
TR Cinter went to the box, more like a squat rectangular cage, and peered down on the diminutive female. She was naked, but despite that didn’t try to cover up like all the prior humans. Cinter could feel her rage and indignation even without entering her consciousness. “Human,” he said and the human looked up, showing off a bruised and swollen face. Cinter reared back in surprise. The female human had given his brain a slight twitch with just a look.
Cinter held the human’s gaze and reached out to her mind. Access was normally easy, child’s play, but this one’s ‘door’ was more difficult to find. He finally did, but it was more like trying to enter a bolted and locked door. He pushed until he was finally inside, but only just. Advancing was hard, like ad
vancing against a resistive Korth warrior.
Cinter left the human’s consciousness and his own head swelled bright red. “This one is strong. What is your name, human?”
The naked female stared, and Cinter delighted in feeling her anger. Finally, as though making a decision, the human proclaimed, “MaryAnn Larkin, you ugly piece of Scalp shit-for-brains freak.”
16
Rex didn’t know what to expect on the African continent. No previous agents had reported back, which made everyone in The Branch think there might be some alien tech that was able to detect their presence, but so far, the week had been quite uneventful.
Perhaps part of the reason was due to the fact that they’d come ashore in a super-remote area. He’d pushed inland and found a little-used dirt road paralleling the coast. He moved north, hoping to come across signs which would tell him where he was. There were none.
The first two days he’d walked without coming across anyone. The days were sweltering hot, the nights cool and cold, so he moved mostly at night. The sounds of animals in the dark kept him on his toes. No one knew for sure what the Korth invasion had done to the animal population. But Rex could unequivocally say, there were still plenty of wild animals about.
The third night, after walking four hours, he saw distant lights on the horizon. It was the first indication of civilization he’d seen and he hoped there’d be a road sign before he entered the town, but as he neared, there was nothing.
When he figured he was a mile from the town, he moved off the road and found cover in an outcropping of rocks, rising from the desert. He sipped off his diminishing supply of water and gazed at the flickering lights. The sound of clomping hooves made him sink lower. Someone, or something, was coming his way on the road. He was fifty yards from the track and he felt excitement to finally get a glimpse of other intelligent beings. He was beginning to wonder if he were the only one on the continent.
