One of the female troglodytes appeared from behind the throne and caressed Max's leg. "What have we here, my husband-to-be? Surface dwellers! Come to spy on our great plans."
"Don't touch him, you filthy wench!" McKenna yelled, her voice filled with loathing.
"Do not speak to me in such a manner!" the queen of the underground empire commanded. "I'll have your head," she screeched.
"If you've harmed my husband, I swear I'll…"
"Enough!" Max interrupted. "Our invasion of the surface world is set to begin in a fortnight and we don't have time for such distractions."
"What are you saying?" Gustave yelled.
Max turned his dull, vacant eyes towards his brother. He stared at him for a moment before he shifted his gaze back to his wife. A stifling silence grew and stretched interminably.
"Kill them," he finally announced in a dull, emotionless tone.
The drums began again and quickly grew louder than before, echoing off the walls of the underground cavern, home to an ancient civilization of strange creatures who had long plotted to return to their rightful place on the Earth's surface.
The End
26 - Invasion!
My name's Brohammer. Mike Brohammer. I'm a private eye. Hollywood's my beat. Los Angeles, the City of Angels. Yeah, right. You can look for angels all you want around here, but you're not gonna find any. You might as well try to start a conga line in a cathedral, for all the good it'll do ya.
I spent the morning alone in my office. I had two slugs in me before lunch, three if you count the one lodged near my heart from my time in Europe. World War Two, the Big One. Yeah, I killed my share of Nazis. Everybody thinks we won the war, but I'm not so sure. The Soviet Union, the Commies. Supposedly they were on our side, but I think it was all a setup. Now the Reds are invading our country.
Half of Hollywood is Red. Senator McCarthy tried to get rid of them, but Eisenhower shut him down. Ike was my commander in Europe, but he'd gone soft after being elected President. McCarthy made a lot of sense. Mark my words, the Commies are already here in full force and it's only a matter of time before they take over America. And the crying shame of it all is they won't even have to fire a shot. They're taking over right before our very eyes and people don't even seem to notice.
I downed my third shot of bourbon in the early afternoon, right before she showed up. Betty Baxter. I recognized her from the movies. That broad had legs that just didn't quit.
She started talking and soon got herself worked into a frenzy. Dames always do. Turns out there's been some funny business on the set of her new movie. Extras keep disappearing. And Victor Campbell, the famous director, is acting kinda strange.
I made her pay in advance. I slipped Andrew Jackson and Alexander Hamilton into my wallet after she left and lit a cigarette. I always need one after talking to a woman.
Who would be my traveling companion today? Johnnie Walker or Jim Beam? I decided to take'em both. I slipped my magnum into its holster, threw on my fedora, and headed out the door.
I hopped in my 1957 Plymouth Fury and cruised down Bel Air. My eyes roved the sidewalks. More and more hippy freaks every day. It had to be those Commies causing all this trouble. They were invading our country, god damn it! Come on, people, wake up!
I flashed my ID to the guard at the MGM studio and he let me park in the back lot. I took a slug of Jim Beam and smoked a cigarette before I got out of the car.
I blended in with the crowd. Jesus, more crazies dressed up as every kinda weirdo under the sun. A mime, a werewolf, two cowboys, and an entire motorcycle gang paraded past me.
Before long, I found who I was looking for. A make-up artist I'd helped a few years back. He was a bit tutti frutti, if you know what I mean. Light in his loafers. But I didn't mind. Different strokes for different folks. Anyway, he owed me one. In no time flat, he dressed me up as an extra and I sauntered over to the set.
Another space invasion movie! Christ, that's all they make anymore. Ever since the Russians put that Sputnik thing a ma jig into orbit a few years back, it's all space race this and space race that.
I looked around the lot. The spaceship didn't even look real. Everybody knows spaceships look like flying saucers. This thing looked like an old lunchbox. And those aliens? Are you kidding me? This is the best that Hollywood can do? They look like some bad costumes somebody's mom threw together at the last minute for a school play that Junior forget to tell her about until a few hours before curtain call.
"Alright. Marauders from the Moon - alien abduction scene number four," the director, Victor Campbell, instructed through his megaphone. "The aliens will shepherd the extras onto their spaceship. Last scene for the day, so let's get it right, people."
I'd been around Campbell before and the dame was right. He was off. Something in his voice sounded hollow, robotic. Maybe Betty Baxter was onto something after all.
I glanced at her across the set. She was a fine looking woman, especially all gussied up for the big screen.
"Action!" the director called and I fell in with the other extras as we walked across the set and up the ramp onto the spaceship. I couldn't help but chuckle when I walked by the actors in the alien costumes. Six eyes, tentacles, and a beak. Jesus H. Christ, are you kidding me? Hollywood keeps putting out garbage and the public keeps eating it up. The opiate of the masses. And the weapons they have, they're just a bunch of sticks. Where are the fake ray guns? How low budget is this turkey?
At the top of the ramp, I turned to the right and followed the other extras into a large room. Damn, it was cold in there. It reminded me of those all-night, winter stakeouts I used to pull back when I was on the force in the Big Apple before that dust-up with the commissioner that landed me out here in Los Angeles.
There were more aliens in this room than on the sound stage, and they all had those ridiculous sticks that were supposed to be menacing weapons.
But hold on! What's going on here? Everywhere I look, the extras are falling to the floor. One touch from those sticks and they're dropping like flies.
I didn't like the looks of things, so I hightailed it out of there. The exit to the ramp was closed. I continued down the hall to another door where I crouched down and took a look inside the room.
The place was crawling with more actors in those alien costumes. Their six eyes scanned the flashing lights of a control panel that looked far more realistic than anything I'd seen so far. They used their tentacles to adjust buttons and knobs on the console and their beaks were moving as they spoke in a strange language of clicks and chirps.
I had a sinking feeling in my gut like I used to get when I had to visit my mother-in-law on Long Island. These were real aliens! This was a real spaceship!
I slipped my magnum out of the holster and took a deep breath. I didn't know if bullets would stop these clowns, but I was about to find out.
Unfortunately, Mike Brohammer never got a chance to test his theory. An alien used a stick weapons to zap him. The creature dragged the private eye back to the cargo bay and put him with the others before he reported to his leader.
"That's it, Commander Zog. This is our fourth batch of humans. One got loose temporarily, but he's in storage with the others now. That's all the samples we'll need to complete our experiments. We can return to our world tonight after the studio is closed."
"You were right, Captain Gorva. This was a better way to collect specimens. Once we had the movie director under our mind control, it was a simple matter to round up the subjects we needed without drawing any unnecessary attention."
"The serum will soon be complete," the Captain said. "We'll contaminate the Earth's water, and in a matter of weeks all of mankind will be dead."
"This will be the easiest invasion ever," said the Commander. "We'll take over the whole planet without even firing a shot."
The End
27 - September 17, 2043
In the waning days of World War Two, American and European scientists unlocked the sec
rets of fission and constructed the first atomic bombs. The following decade, the first hydrogen bombs where developed. These new weapons used fusion to create blasts that were a hundred times more powerful than the A-bombs that leveled Hiroshima and Nagasaki.
Engineers and mathematicians of the 20th century were convinced that the H-bombs represented the ultimate weapons, but they vastly underestimated mankind's thirst for dominance and destruction.
*****
The rugged, desert terrain of the American Southwest provided the backdrop for a clandestine gathering of the leading scientists from peace-loving countries around the globe. Never in the history of mankind had so many Nobel Prize winners strived to achieve a common goal.
General Kincade, a stout man in charge of the military aspects of the program, addressed the crowd.
"We were called upon two years ago to face the growing threat of China's plans for global dominance. Scientists and soldiers alike were asked to do their part to keep the world safe for democracy. We came here to Limestone County to implement Project Jupiter. Today—September 17, 2043—marks the culmination of our work. Today we test the first Q-bomb."
After the General's speech, everybody made their way to the military vehicles that would carry them to the test site deep in the arid wilderness.
The mood had been celebratory, but it turned somber as the time of detonation approached. Those previously caught up in the thrall of discovery now began to contemplate the implications of the power they were about to unleash.
Richard LaGrange and Dr. Melanie Fisher rode next to each other. They'd been strangers when Project Jupiter first started, but they'd grown close during their time together.
Melanie stared out the window at the sagebrush and wildflowers that dotted the countryside during the first part of the journey, but as they neared the test site, she turned to her companion.
"Did we do the right thing, Richard? A-bombs, H-bombs, Q-bombs—"
"And a few F-bombs along the way," he interjected.
"I'm serious," she protested.
"I know, I know," he said. "I was just trying to lighten the mood."
"I want to know what you're thinking right now. You're the most brilliant man here," she said.
"Well, I don't know about that. I don't even have a Ph.D."
"You could have a dozen doctorates if you wanted," she protested. "What have we done, Richard? What horrors are we about to set free?"
"Melanie, listen to me. It's a moot point. The Chinese are working towards the bomb as well. Army intelligence estimates they're only a few months behind us. We did what we had to do. There really was no other choice."
"I suppose it was inevitable," Melanie said despondently. "Their scientists can solve the Higgs equations, learn how to separate quarks, and release sub-atomic energy just as ours did."
They rode the rest of the way in silence, each lost in their own thoughts. An hour later, the convoy arrived at its destination. The passengers somberly disembarked and took their places on a high mesa overlooking a broad desert plane. Five miles away, just barely visible, was the metal tower that held the Q-bomb.
The soldiers and scientists huddled together under the cloudless sky, making small talk, as the sun climbed higher and higher. Detonation was set for noon.
"You know, the engineers have given the bomb a nickname," Richard said. "They call it Thor's Hammer."
"Let's hope this doesn't bring Ragnarok," Melanie replied. "The end of the world in Norse mythology."
Conversation dwindled as the appointed time drew near. Melanie slipped her hand into Richard's as the final countdown began.
They watched breathlessly as the bomb dropped from the top of the derrick. An inferno, brighter than a thousand suns, appeared for a split-second, followed by a gargantuan mushroom cloud. Moments later, the onlookers were pelted with so much dust and debris that it blotted out the entire sky.
When the sand and soot finally cleared, they were greeted by an astonishing sight. The cloudless blue sky was gone, replaced by the inky darkness of night. Thousands of stars blazed in the firmament, but none they recognized. The familiar constellations were gone, replaced by odd, new configurations.
"What happened to the Sun?" one of the scientists cried out.
"Where are we?" another asked nervously.
"Richard, what happened?" Melanie asked, making no attempt to hide the fear in her voice.
"This was a possibility," he said, more to himself than to her. "But the odds were almost a billion to one against it happening."
"Against what happening?" she asked as they turned and looked into each other's eyes.
"We've torn the fabric of space. The immense power of the Q-bomb ripped a hole right through it."
"But the Earth couldn't be shot through the universe like a bullet. That would have broken the planet into tiny pieces."
"Technically, we're still in the same spot, just in a parallel dimension."
"And the Sun?"
"Right where it's always been. But that could be a trillion miles away from here."
"What are we going to do for power? The Sun is the source of all the Earth's energy."
"Most of the fossil fuels are already gone. We can survive a few more years on what's left," Richard said as his voice began to trail off. "But after that..."
"What?" she asked. "What comes after that?"
"Death," he whispered.
"Death?"
"Melanie, we can't survive without the Sun."
"Then we've doomed the entire race to extinction. Chinese and American alike. My God, the children. Richard, what about the children?" she screamed as she buried her face against his chest.
He wrapped his arms around her and tried to provide some comfort, but it was a hopeless task. There would be no comfort for Melanie or anyone else on the Earth in the weeks and months ahead as they drifted aimlessly through space in this strange, new dimension on the way to their inevitable deaths.
The End
28 - Colossus
Part 1 - Watching You
London
1984
"Alright, let's go over this one last time."
"Do we have to?" asked a chubby boy in the corner.
Mrs. Davies wanted to say no. Why did third graders need to learn about this stuff, anyway? Some of her more enthusiastic colleagues called it indoctrination. Truth be told, there was a time when she thought the same way. But that was before her son was killed fighting in America. Now she thought of it as brainwashing.
She wanted to say no, but she knew that wasn't an option. Colossus monitored what was said and done in every classroom. So she continued with her review.
"It's important that you know the basic outline of recent history beginning with the events of World War II. Raise your hand if you know which countries won the war?"
Every single hand went up. The students were all eager to please Colossus.
She called on a boy in a turtleneck sweater.
"Britain and Germany."
"That's right," Mrs. Davies said. "Winston Churchill and Erwin Rommel led their respective countries to victory. Who can tell me the leader of Germany before Rommel?"
A little girl in a pink bow was the first to raise her hand. Of course, the teacher followed standard protocol and waited until everyone had volunteered before she called on her.
"Adolf Hitler."
"Correct," Mrs. Davies said. "Hitler started the war but the German people eventually realized he was insane so Rommel and his compatriots assassinated Hitler before he could lead their country to ruin. That was shortly after the failed D-Day invasion."
The little girl smiled at the viewscreen that Colossus used to monitor the classroom. Perhaps her family would receive an extra food ration for her correct answer.
"What about some of the other countries that were involved with the war? Japan, for instance."
Mrs. Davies noticed the chubby boy in the corner didn't raise his hand and she became apprehensive
. He had already expressed a lack of interest in the review. Colossus certainly had noticed. If he stopped participating it would only be a matter of time until the Regulators appeared. They were probably on alert already.
She was going to try and cover for him, but another student noticed and made a comment. "Hey, Teddy doesn't have his hand up."
The rest of the class turned and stared.
"That's okay," Mrs. Davies said nervously. "I'm sure Teddy knows the answer." She cleared her throat and said a silent prayer. She had to ask him. If she didn't, Colossus might start to question her obedience. "Go ahead, Teddy. Tell us what happened to Japan."
An awkward silence followed.
"I don't remember," the boy eventually said.
"This is no time for joking. Go ahead and tell the class what happened to Japan at the end of the war."
The chubby boy shrugged his shoulders.
The tension in the room quickly mounted and the students began to fidget. Some wondered if it was going to be a repeat of the ugly incident from the start of the term.
Beads of sweat appeared on Mrs. Davies's brow. She licked her lips nervously as she glanced at the classroom door. "Teddy, please. You know this. The atomic bomb that Germany developed. What did they do with it?"
Teddy shook his head.
The little girl in the pink bow began to cry. She knew what was going to happen next.
A group of six Regulators barged into the room. Their metallic silver uniforms were so shiny that the students could see their reflections, though they were warped into odd shapes.
The leader of the squadron, designated by a bright red helmet, considered using his hydrogen blaster but decided that would be overkill. He pressed the button on his belt to lower his neutron shield long enough to use his magna-beam to scramble the boy's brain.
"A warrant was issued for his family," the second-in-command said as they carried the chubby boy's immobilized body to the door. "They'll be in custody within the hour and face the Tribunal in the morning."
"Study hard, children," the leader said before the Regulators departed. "Colossus has little patience for those who don't know our country's glorious history."
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