Crash

by Orrin Jason Bradford

  Of course, it didn’t take the burly man long to start hitting on her. After his third pass in which he suggested they get together for a drink and then let nature take its course, she interrupted him. “Seems like I remember hearing through the grapevine that you were engaged to some nice southern lady, Jenny or Jennifer, wasn’t it? What happened to those plans?”

  There was a long pause before James finally replied. “Oh, sure, Jenny and I are still making plans, but in the meantime...”

  “In the meantime, I recommend you keep your attention on your flying and less on my breasts, and maybe, just maybe I won’t report you to Stanwick for sexual harassment.”

  James turned to stare at her, this time at the level of her eyes. “Really, I was only kidding. You know, just a little innocent flirting. It’s what we guys do when we’re around a pretty little thing like you.”

  “First off, I know all too well it’s what you guys like to do. It doesn’t mean I have to like it or put up with it. Second, I’m not a ‘pretty little thing,’ so please don’t refer to me as such. I’m a co-worker of yours who deserves the same respect of any of your other co-workers, and I’ll accept nothing less. Is that clear?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” James finally replied. “Really didn’t mean anything by it.”

  Realizing she might have over-reacted just a bit, Pat decided to change the subject.

  “Tell me, how did a mountain man like you end up flying helicopters, anyway.”

  James told her about enlisting in the Army shortly after graduating from high school. “I didn’t have the grades for college, and my family certainly didn’t have the money to send me. Army seemed my best chance to get off the mountain and see the rest of the world. I didn’t know that most of the world I’d end up seeing was filled with sand.”

  When Pat gave him a quizzical look, he continued. “When I showed a better than average aptitude for flying, I ended up doing two tours of duty in the Middle East.”

  After another pause, during which the two of them stared out either side of the copter looking for anything out of the ordinary among the acres of dense forest, James asked. “And how did a pretty...I mean, how did you end up working for B.I.U.F.O.?

  “Well, my dad was in the Marines, and I think secretly he always wanted a boy, so to please him I became a tomboy.

  “Why, I’d say you’re anything but...”

  “Never mind. We’re not going there again.”

  “Oh, okay. Sure.”

  “Anyway, my father heard from one of his Marine friends who heard from another friend some rumor about this special, quasi-secret organization being started to investigate unidentified flying objects. My dad knew I’d been an SF geek growing up with two full bookcases of Heinlein, Simak, Clarke, Asimov, you know all the grandmasters, so he dug a little deeper. Before I knew it, he’d gotten me an interview. The rest, as they say, is history.”

  “So, do you really think there are little green men secretly invading us?” James asked.

  “No,” Pat answered. “Not green. I’m pretty sure they’re paisley.”

  “Paisley? Why paisley?”

  “Why not paisley. I understand it’s making a comeback this year.”

  “Oh, god forbid,” James said and chuckled. “But seriously, do you believe in UFOs and aliens, all that stuff?”

  Pat considered the question before answering. “I’m open to the possibility. I mean, look how vast the Universe is. It seems pretty egocentric to think that we’re the only intelligent life in all the Cosmos. So, yes, I think it’s quite possible we are either currently being visited by other life forms or will be sometime in the future. Besides, the job pays well and what other jobs could I get where I get to fend off obnoxious advances from someone who’s engaged to be married?”

  “Most anywhere you find men,” James countered.

  “Unfortunately, all too true,” Pat replied, then shot up in her seat. “What’s that over there?” She pointed to her right. “Head over that way. I think I may have seen something.”

  AS SLUNEG FINISHED shifting into his survival/warrior form, he felt the resilience of his body grow, and a renewed vitality. He also heard the voice return.

  Don’t you think it would be a good idea to let me take over the controls, given that you took the rash act of destroying the ship’s autopilot?

  I had to, Sluneg argued. It was about to destroy the ship.

  Only because at that moment it lacked the data it needed, mostly due to the instruments being damaged. If you’d given me half a nano, I would have shown you how to over-ride it until we dropped further into the atmosphere. Anyway, you’ve clearly demonstrated a lack of wisdom or full knowledge of the operations of the ship. Let me help you out of this mess.

  Sluneg considered the offer. He didn’t like the idea of giving up control of, well, of anything. It just wasn’t in his nature, but then again, he was also not excited about being scattered all over this alien planet. He had a mission to complete. That had to take precedence over his own petty concerns.

  How would this work if I decided to accept your offer?

  Simple. Just release control of your body to me for the rest of the flight. You will either awake in a few minutes safely on the planet, or well...”

  I won’t awaken at all, Sluneg finished.

  Yes, exactly. After another moment, the voice continued. Look, we both signed onto this journey because we’re committed to the success of the mission. My part was to get you safely onto the planet. I can do that. That’s what they trained me to do. Once that part is completed my work will be done, and you’ll never hear from me again. But you are running out of time. What will it be?

  She was right. Her logic was irrefutable. He finally nodded. Okay. But you're not doing this just because I devoured your body, is it?

  You’ll never know. It was the last thought he heard before losing control of his body.

  The next few minutes felt dreamlike with flashes of light, horrendous sounds and metal shearing against itself as his body was slung back and forth in every direction while remaining strapped to the command post chair. Meanwhile, he watched as his hands flowed across the panel in an attempt to keep the ship under control. Then there was a loud boom, and everything went black.

  Sluneg awoke with a loud buzzing in his ears and a splitting headache. In fact, his entire body felt like it had been pulverized, but the pain proved one important thing: he was alive! He slowly unstrapped himself from the chair and fell to the floor, catching himself in the last moment. As he looked around, it became evident that the ship lay at an odd angle to the gravity of the planet. Not entirely upside down but also not resting level.

  That’s okay. I’m alive. That’s all that really matters. As long as he was alive, so was the mission; that is, if his precious cargo was still intact. Time to find out and get himself and the cargo away from the ship. No telling how long he’d have before being discovered by the dominant species. As he stood up, he accessed the damage to find mostly just bumps and bruises, including a nasty cut to the left side of his head. Already, he could feel the healing power of his body working. At least there didn’t appear to be any broken bones or internal injuries that would take longer to heal and slow him down.

  He made his way to the inner chambers where the precious cargo was stored in their own protective enclosures. He opened the smallest one first, a box no larger than his fist, but so vitally important. As the box hissed open, he removed the small crystalline structure that contained all the technological knowledge of his race, including that which has been acquired through their many other missions. Next, he opened the protective container that housed the cocoon which housed within it thousands of his fellow Crenosian souls along with the larval forms of FreeForm that would eventually become their bodies. He breathed more easily when he found both structures intact. He pulled out the third item that had hastily been added just before takeoff. All he knew about it was that he’d been instructed to remove it from the ship
at the same time as the other two. When he’d attempted to inquire about its purpose, his commander cut him off with an “It’s on a need to know basis, and you don’t need to know at the moment. Just don’t leave it behind.” So he wouldn’t.

  He quickly gathered the items together, slinging the two larger ones over his shoulders, and placing the crystal around his neck, leaving his hands more or less free. As he made his way to the exit, he felt the ship shudder and lean in one direction. Whatever surface it had landed on didn’t feel stable. Best to get out as soon as possible. He found the exit, and after verifying that the atmosphere was breathable as previous data had indicated, he released the door lock. The door only slid partially open, but it would be enough to allow him to squeeze through. He pushed the cocoon out the slit in the door, followed by the other mystery object, and last of all himself. He gathered up the items and climbed out of the crevice made by the ship plowing into the planet. As he did so, he felt the ship shift again. There were other supplies he could use inside the ship, but he might find it more difficult to re-enter later, For now, he needed to find a secure place to hide the items upon which the mission depended. He would return later to see what else he might be able to salvage.

  He climbed out of the tear in the earth’s surface and looked around. While he’d been informed that the probe’s data had indicated the planet was teeming with life, he was not prepared for what he saw. Everywhere he looked loomed huge structures made up of dark brown bases with green appendages rustling gently in the breeze. He ran through his memory of the report. The dominant species who referred to themselves as humans called these structures trees, and evidently, they were both alive and plentiful over much of the planet. Amazing, he thought. Truly amazing. We’ve nothing like these back on Crenosia. Apparently, he’d been fortunate to land in a secluded area made up of mountains and forests. Who knows? He might have plenty of time to plan and organize before humans found the ship, but as he made his way to the edge of the forest, his keen hearing detected a sound that raised the hackles on his neck. That wasn’t the wind, he thought, and it didn’t sound like an animal. It was too mechanical. The whirling sound grew as he turned in the direction from which it came. He picked up his pace and had just made it to the first stand of trees when a black object crested the ridge of trees across the way. At first, he thought it might be some kind of large flying animal, but on closer inspection, he ruled that out. No, this flying object had to have been made by humans. Already, he’d been discovered.

  Shistuon! Sluneg swore but continued to trudge on. After all, he was a survivor, so his mission would survive as well.

  Waynesville, March 1993

  Dr. Allan Pritchard turned off the engine to his Jeep Cherokee and took a moment to gather his thoughts before going into the house. It had been a good day, all things considered. Business at the veterinary clinic was starting to pick up after the typical winter doldrums. It wouldn’t be long before the spring buildup would lead to the usual madness of the summer season. And no doubt he’d end up thinking once again about whether or not to hire an associate vet.

  He stared out the tinted windows as the ranch home they’d purchase a couple years ago despite his hesitancy to become a homeowner so soon after opening his practice. But his wife, Laura, had assured him that it would all work out, and once again she’d been right. She had also done a terrific job of turning the house into a cozy home where they could raise a family, starting with little Todd, who would be finishing up his first year at Waynesville Elementary School in a few months. Yes, life was good for this old southern boy. He caught himself whistling an old Beatle’s tune that had been stuck in his head for most of the afternoon as he strolled into the house.

  “My, someone is in a good mood!” Laura called from the kitchen. She entered the living room, drying her hands with a towel, and gave him a peck on the cheek.

  “Yeah, I guess so,” Allan replied as he returned the kiss. “Where’s Todd?”

  “Master Todd Pritchard has spent the afternoon in his room, that’s where your son is.”

  Uh-oh, it’s never good when Laura refers to Todd as my son and not ours. “What did he do now?”

  “I caught him playing with matches...again,” Laura replied. “So I sent him to his room and told him to stay there until you got home. You really need to talk to him. That’s the third time I’ve caught him playing with fire.”

  “Yeah, I know,” Allan said, “But you know our son. Ever curious. He takes after me. I was always getting into things when I was his age. It’s not a big deal. It’s just a phase he’s going through.”

  “Well, maybe,” Laura replied, but she didn’t sound convinced. “I’d like to be sure we still have a roof over our head during this exploratory phase. So, please, go talk to him while I get dinner on the table.”

  “Aye aye, Captain,” Allan replied then ducked just in time to avoid being smacked in the head by the dish towel. He walked down the hall to Todd’s room, knocked quietly on the door.

  “What’s up, Todd?” Allan asked. He entered the room to find Todd lying on his bed, tossing a baseball in the air.

  “Aww, nothing,” Todd replied without looking at his dad. “Mom’s mad at me again.”

  “Yeah, I heard. Seems like she has a right to be, don’t you think? We’ve warned you about playing with matches.”

  Todd didn’t say anything at first but continued to toss the ball and then catch it. Finally, as the silence grew he replied, “I guess.” He turned to look at his dad. “But I’m always careful. I mean, they’re safety matches, Dad.”

  Allan smiled despite himself then grew stern again. He sat down on the edge of the bed next to his son. “That doesn’t mean you couldn’t burn yourself or worse. Besides, it worries your mother, and you don’t want to give her more things to worry about, do you?”

  “No,” Todd replied reluctantly. After another long silence, he sat up. “Can we go play catch now?”

  “Sure, why not?” Allan replied, grateful that the talk was over and he could get back to enjoying life with his son.

  “Where are you two going?” Laura asked as they started out the back door.

  “Dad’s going to play catch with me!” Todd shouted over his shoulder.

  Laura glared at her husband. “Well, that was quick. Do you really think it’s a good idea to reward him for such behavior.”

  Allan stopped to give her a reassuring hug. “It’s fine, sweetie. Really it is. It’s just a phase boys go through.”

  <<<<>>>>

  Enjoy this Sample Chapter

  FreeFrom: Begnnings

  Part One

  Something Wicked This Way Comes

  Mountain Mystery

  Saturday, March 5, 1993

  THE HELICOPTER SWOOPED low over the crest of the mountain, and Pat Vogt held her breath and her stomach.

  "Ease up, James," she said as soon as she could take another breath. "If we catch a downdraft off one of these mountains, we're likely to be wearing those trees."

  James, an ex-Gulf War copter pilot, often flew as though he was being pursued by some unidentified enemy aircraft. Pat suspected he occasionally experienced flashbacks of those grueling war years.

  "In fact, climb a couple hundred feet, and let’s take another pass from a different perspective."

  James nodded affirmatively and gave her a sly wink, which Pat ignored. She drew a lot of winks from her male co-workers and once in a while a pinch on the ass from some brave fool...but only one.

  Her five-foot, two-inch frame of muscular curves had stopped plenty of men in their tracks, but they didn’t around Pat long without discovering she was a woman with whom you did not fool around. Oh sure, a little kidding around was okay; it was to be expected, and Pat was far from being a prude. She knew she was attractive, even sexy. Pat had spent many long hours in the gym and karate dojo in the pursuit of a healthy frame, but it wasn't for her shape she worked so hard. It was the desire for excellence in everything she took on in
her life, especially her career.

  "We're getting low on fuel, sweet thing!" James shouted to her over the whirl of the blades. "We'll have to take it in for refueling."

  "One more pass,” Pat replied. "I thought I saw a glint over the ridge. It could be a metallic surface reflecting the sun."

  "These babies don't stay afloat long when the blades stop rotating,” James answered.

  Pat turned and stared at him for a long few seconds. "One more pass,” she mouthed slowly.

  "Whatever you say. You're the boss."

  The helicopter eased over the ridge. Pat placed the set of binoculars to her eyes. She studied the rough terrain below, looking for the scar in the thick growth of trees she'd noticed on the previous pass. It looked like someone had selectively cut a thin line through the dense growth. A fast-moving object striking the surface at an acute angle as the report had suggested could have caused such damage. Yet with heavy snowfall, it could go unnoticed.

  She lowered the glasses for a moment. There, to the left—a long thin line angled obliquely across the crest. She raised the glasses back to her eyes and traced the scar, shouting to James as she did.

  "Turn east about fifteen degrees and come in a little slower! I think I see something." She felt James make the adjustment quickly.

  As she studied the defect in the landscape, her gaze stopped at the end furthest from the crest. As they passed over the area, a flash like a flashbulb, momentarily blinded them; or was it the reflection of the noonday sun? But from what?

  "See that thin break in the trees we passed over? I want you to put down there."

  "No way, babes,” James replied. "Not with this wind and us sucking on fumes. One little hesitation and we'll be eating those trees."

  "I thought you were the great Gulf War copter pilot with ice water flowing through his veins."

  "I'm not interested in picnicking in these woods for several days while a search party tries to find us. Not even with a gorgeous dame like yourself."