Invaders

by Vaughn Heppner

  “Yeah,” I said. “Well, sue me.”

  “That does not make sense.”

  “Neither does your chicken-liver attitude,” I said.

  “Theirs is a pirate vessel.”

  “What’s that even supposed to mean?”

  “From their pirate vessel,” Rax said, “the aliens engage in piratical activities. You heard the Jarnevon. She sought to color their activities with a legal fiction—I am referring to the letters of marque from the Min Ve Council. Earth is a banned planet in a forbidden zone. Not even the Min Ve can wriggle out of that in a Galactic court of law.”

  “I’m not worried about that,” I said. “I want to know why their vessel should worry us if it’s not a warship.”

  “While the orbital vessel is technically not a warship, it possesses weapons pods. The pods and the pirate ship’s shields are several orders of magnitude more powerful than my Guard-ship’s shields and weapons arsenal.”

  “That still doesn’t explain why they haven’t fired their beams yet.”

  “They are not going to use beams.”

  “What are they going to use?”

  “A missile,” Rax said.

  “Let’s knock it down before it strikes us.”

  “It is a ZeLoran Hell-Burner,” Rax said. “It is heavily armored with a nuclear warhead.”

  I stared at the crystal. “You’re kidding me? The aliens are firing nukes at Earth?”

  “The reason is legality,” Rax said. “A nuclear attack is a Class IV violation, making it a minor offense. Using spaceship-class disintegrator beams from an orbital location is a Class II violation—a felony.”

  “Using nukes is just a slap on the wrist?” I asked.

  “The hell-burner will wreak greater devastation on the planet,” Rax said. “But it is less likely to notify the aboriginals of Galactic origin technology.”

  “That’s a big whoop-de-do,” I said. “I take it the hell-burner can vaporize the Guard-ship.”

  “With ease,” Rax said.

  “So what is it again that we’re trying to do?”

  “Look to your right, Logan. Do you see the ocean?”

  I peered out the window. The Guard-ship zoomed from the airspace over Greenland, flashing over the choppy waters of the Arctic Ocean.

  “Take us down into the water,” Rax said.

  I zoomed down.

  “Error,” Rax said. “Desist from your watery insertion at once.”

  I took us up.

  “You must slow down before you enter the water,” Rax explained. “Otherwise, we will either skip off the surface or crumple bulkheads.”

  “Roger that,” I said.

  Within thirty seconds and too many Gs from hard braking, I maneuvered the Guard-ship into the sea. It was an eerie sensation to watch the green water slosh over us. At a steep incline, I headed down.

  “You do know water pressure increases the deeper we go, right?” I asked.

  “I have already increased the pressure inside the ship.”

  Around us, the bulkheads began to groan in complaint.

  “Turn to your right,” Rax said, “and activate the outer screen.”

  I did.

  “Tap the red control,” Rax said.

  We headed down, but at a slower rate. We also launched a buoy, attached by a thin line to our ship.

  It bobbed on the surface.

  “Scanning…” Rax said.

  I studied the screen. By whatever tech the ship possessed, I watched higher Earth orbit. At first, there was nothing. Then, I noticed a shimmering but otherwise invisible ship. It was huge, bigger than the biggest aircraft carrier. The shimmering dulled until I could barely make out the alien vessel.

  It wasn’t round, oval, or even octagonal shaped. Instead, it looked like an erector set that had visited a planetary junkyard, welding masses of scraps onto the girders. Some of the rearward pieces glowed.

  I took that to be propulsion.

  A forward pod slid open. Bright light shone out of it. Then, a sleek-looking missile popped out. It drifted toward the atmosphere. After ten seconds, a rocket engine ignited. The missile leapt, speeding for lower Earth orbit.

  “I have calculated the warhead’s size,” Rax said. “It is several magnitudes larger than I expected. We are unlikely to survive a watery detonation.”

  I wiped my lips with the back of my wrist. Aliens had just targeted us with a hell-burner, a thermonuclear-tipped space missile. This had to be a first for the Earth.

  “How many megatons is the warhead?” I asked.

  “It is many times more powerful than Earth’s biggest nuclear weapon.”

  “Can’t the ship’s shield protect us from the blast?”

  “In no way,” Rax said.

  “So that’s it? We’re toast?”

  “I did not say that. Unfortunately, the only successful maneuver will devour most of the ship’s pirated energy. It is possible the enemy will also detect our deception, which will render it useless.”

  “A nuke like that will also destroy a lot of Arctic life,” I said. “We have to destroy the missile before it detonates.”

  “This is not a dream, Logan. This is reality. Wishing does not make—”

  “Yeah, I got it,” I snapped. “So what do we do?”

  On the screen, I saw the missile’s heat shield glowing as it burned through Earth’s upper atmosphere.

  Rax began spitting out instructions. I had to unbuckle, race to various parts of the piloting chamber and tap in precise codes.

  I glanced over my shoulder at the missile on the screen. It was streaking straight for us, presently passing through to the lower part of the atmosphere. A running number indicated how many kilometers from impact. It was less than three.

  “Rax,” I said.

  “Get back in the pilot’s chair. Hurry, Logan. We have less than twenty seconds to achieve transfer.”

  “What are you talking about?” I shouted.

  “Press the blue tab.”

  I did.

  The ship’s engine whined at its highest setting so far. But absolutely nothing happened. I glanced at the screen. The missile streaked under the kilometer range. It headed at an angle for the water.

  “Are we dead?” I shouted.

  “Tap in this sequence,” Rax said.

  On the screen, the missile struck the water, coming for us like a torpedo.

  I looked out the window. The water seemed to fade from view, growing lighter and lighter colored. A feeling of disorientation struck me. The water vanished. We seemed to tumble. Suddenly, I heard what sounded like a sonic boom. The ship shuddered, tossed to-and-fro as rushing water swirled around us. I expected it to get worse before the end, before oblivion, but by some miracle, the water and the ship’s shaking began settling down.

  “What’s going on?” I shouted. “Did we survive the detonation after all?”

  The screen activated. I watched, glued to the set. A great hump appeared on the surface. I had no idea of its size. Then a great column of water shot toward the sky.

  “What’s happening?” I shouted.

  “The hell-burner has detonated,” Rax said. “I am recording the aftereffects.”

  “That wasn’t the blast hitting us?” I asked.

  “By no means,” Rax said.

  “How long until the blast reaches us then?”

  “It won’t.”

  “That doesn’t make sense.”

  “We teleported, Logan,” Rax explained. “We moved the ship halfway across the planet into the Pacific Ocean near Hawaii. I had you create a displacement bubble ahead of us. The water rushing in was the boom you heard.”

  I stared at the screen, at the column of dirty water thrown up by the alien hell-burner. What was that going to do to the Arctic environment? Likely, millions of fish and other organisms would die. Nations would notice the nuclear warhead having gone off. It might cause accusations to fly between nations. It might even ignite a war between the nuclear-arme
d countries.

  “This is awful,” I said.

  “The Organizer is brazen,” Rax said. “He has to find and kill us now. Otherwise, the Galactic Guard will hunt him to his death for what he just did. He will know this, of course. I am afraid I have miscalculated the size and intensity of his greed. He must know—”

  Rax stopped talking.

  “You were going to say,” I prodded.

  “By launching the hell-burner, the Organizer has given us license to eliminate his operatives and destroy his vessel without warning or quarter.”

  I digested that. “Will he move openly on Earth now?”

  “There is no telling.”

  “So, what do we do next?” I asked.

  “Yes,” Rax said. “That is an excellent question. It is time for me to make deep calculations.”

  -23-

  I sat in the pilot’s chair inside a Galactic Guard-ship. For the first time in countless hours, immediate death wasn’t staring me in the face. I peered out a window, wondering how far we were underwater. I saw a curious shark in the distance circling our craft.

  I’d gone to work last night in my jeep. Now, I sat in a freaking spaceship, having dealt with at least four different kinds of aliens. There were the shape-changing Unguls, Rax the crystal, the Min Ve, which I hadn’t yet seen, and the sexy Jarnevon. The Organizer had launched the big daddy of all nukes just off the coast of Greenland. For the moment, at least, the bastard must believe we were dead.

  “Okay,” I said. “I think I know what to do.”

  “I doubt your idea will be Guard approved,” Rax said, “but what is your suggestion?”

  “We have to lay the evidence before the President of the United States. Once he knows the score, he’ll order a counterattack against the alien vessel.”

  “There is a problem with that,” Rax said. “Your species does not possess a space fleet.”

  “I know,” I said. “But we have plenty of ICBMs. If we launch enough of them, I’m sure we could knock down the Organizer’s pirate ship.”

  “What are ICBMs?”

  “Intercontinental ballistic missiles,” I said. “They can reach orbital space and have a nuclear payload.”

  “I see,” Rax said. “Yes, in theory your suggestion has merit. The flaws in actuality are many. Once the Organizer sees the massed missile launch, he will immediately counter-launch, raining nuclear death on your country. I suspect his vessel also has enough countermeasures to destroy whatever missiles make it into orbital space.”

  “You suspect, but you don’t know.”

  “Did you not hear me regarding the nuclear devastation you would unleash on your country?” Rax asked.

  “We would have to launch a surprise attack,” I said. “Maybe we could hammer him first with the Guard-ship. You know, keep him occupied while the U.S. launches its missiles.”

  “Logan, you fail to grasp the reality of the situation.”

  I’d figured all along that my idea had holes, but I’d decided this might be the best way to get Rax to talk. I was sick to death of his secretiveness.

  “What reality?” I asked in my most sneering tone.

  “Firstly, Guard policy mandates a stealth approach on primitive planets and doubly so on a banned one.”

  “The Organizer’s hell-burner just wrecked your cover,” I said.

  “That is in no way true,” Rax said. “My cover is intact. I doubt the aboriginals are aware of the Organizer’s vessel, either. It has remained cloaked the entire time.”

  “Yeah,” I said. “Well, what about all the Unguls roaming around Nevada in tanks? Someone is going to report them. I bet someone must have seen the Learjets flittering about in low Earth orbit.”

  “Could you explain that in further detail?” Rax asked.

  I filled Rax in on my adventure in Nevada and the trip to Greenland. I finished it with, “So, according to Z17, there are at least seven active sites on Earth.”

  “That is not necessarily the case,” Rax said. “In fact, I highly doubt it. I do not believe the Organizer would squander his resources in seven different locations at once. At most, there are three sites but more probably two: the one in Greenland and the other in Nevada.”

  “I don’t know, Rax. The way Z17 talked, it sure seemed as if there are more than just the two or three places. By the way, what’s the Organizer after, anyway?”

  “I am afraid I cannot say.”

  “That’s a bunch of crap,” I said heatedly. “I’ve risked my life helping you, helping the Galactic Guard. The least you could do is let me know what it’s all about.”

  “Logan, I am under strict orders never to divulge such highly sensitive information. I have already told you that Earth is a banned planet. That means only specially authorized personnel can land on its surface.”

  “Why is Earth banned?”

  “Because it is a danger to the rest of the galaxy,” he said.

  “Come on, Earth? Oh. I get it. Are we humans the greatest soldiers in the universe?”

  “I do not follow your logic,” Rax said.

  “It’s easy. You Galactics have banned anyone from coming here because you fear what would happen if the human race broke out into the stars. Likely, we can kick everyone’s ass, and then some.”

  “That is a preposterous notion. While I admit you are a warlike species, you are far from the most savage or the most notorious.”

  “So, we’re not banned because of humanity’s dangerousness to everyone else?”

  “I have already said too much,” Rax told me. “I am on your planet by special authority of the Galactic Guard, which gained the privilege through the highest channels. I have a suspicion as to the true nature of why my agent and I came, but I am not at liberty to explain that to you.”

  “I’m beginning to get the picture,” I said. “This malignant intelligence you’ve spoken about has your Galactic panties in a bunch. That’s what you’re investigating.”

  “Let us change the subject,” Rax suggested.

  I stared at the crystal, looked up at the ocean waters and unbuckled the straps around me. I stood, beginning to pace. I thought back to what I’d learned in the last few hours. Suddenly, I snapped my fingers.

  “How come you haven’t contacted your fathership yet?” I asked.

  “Logan—”

  “You told me before it was in Jupiter orbit.”

  “That is true. I did. It was an error on my part to speak about it.”

  “Forget about that,” I said, becoming excited. “Have you secretly contacted them?”

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I cannot detect them,” Rax said.

  “Have they gone into stealth mode?”

  “By all indications, the starship has left the solar system.”

  “Without first trying to get in touch with you?” I asked.

  “It is yet another incongruity in the case, I admit.”

  “You’ve said that before, about these incongruities. What do you mean by it?”

  “Very simply that the facts do not logically fit together.”

  “Can you give me a for instance?” I said.

  “I could but will not.”

  “Well, maybe we should sneak off-planet then and go after the fathership, flagging it down. We need some serious backup.”

  “How do you propose we go after them?” Rax asked.

  “I don’t know. First, we have to get enough power, I guess.”

  “It is not a matter of power,” Rax said. “I believe you are working under a false assumption. This is an infiltration Guard-ship. It was built for localized missions.”

  “What are you saying?” I asked. “You can’t hop between star systems in this thing?”

  “That is correct. The ship has a limited capacity for operating in a vacuum environment.”

  “Okay, okay, are you saying it’s a shuttle?”

  “I do not understand your reference point,” he said.
>
  “This thing is for getting down from an orbital starship to a planetary surface. But it’s not for journeys to Neptune or even Mars.”

  “We could reach either planet,” Rax said, “although I am not sure we could return to Earth from Neptune.”

  I nodded, pinching my lower lips as I thought about that. “So you’re saying your fathership just up and left you and your agent high and dry. Is that normal Guard procedure to cut and run like that?”

  “It goes against all protocols,” Rax said.

  “That’s just like the Marines—don’t leave your buddy lying on the battlefield.”

  “A quaint saying,” Rax said, “but accurate regarding Guard procedure.”

  “Here’s the number one question then,” I said. “Why did your parent ship hightail it from the solar system without first rescuing you?”

  “It is a mystery indeed, one among many.”

  “Unless…they thought you were dead,” I said. “Maybe they waited around and finally gave up because it was taking you or your agent too long to call in.”

  The crystal did not respond.

  “Maybe this has everything to do with the reason for your agent’s bones turning brittle.”

  “You are a curious being, Logan, and your logic centers are highly developed but prone to running wild with speculation. I suggest we ponder more immediate problems.”

  I returned to the piloting chair, sitting down.

  “Let’s see if I understand your plight,” I said. “You’re stuck on a banned planet, one with a dangerous mystery. This Min Ve Council has gotten bold or greedy. It’s finally gotten the balls to send a privateer to Earth, to try to gain control of whatever power scares the hell out of you Galactics. The Organizer has the upper hand here, as you lack all means of contacting your Guard friends. Your only partner is me, a barbarian aboriginal, one you are not supposed to divulge any Guard secrets to.”

  “I congratulate you,” Rax said. “You have stated my dilemma succinctly.”

  “Should we go back to the Greenland complex and poke around?” I asked.

  “The radioactive fallout from the hell-burner is too great for that.”

  I wondered how many people had died in the nuclear holocaust. The more I thought about it, the angrier I felt.