Invaders

by Vaughn Heppner

  It was my turn.

  That’s when a hand latched onto my left shoulder from behind, spinning me around.

  -33-

  I expected the killer robot to be smiling at me with a gun pressed against my chest. Instead, an Ungul aimed a raygun at me, with the other two flanking him as backup. Behind them, the line of remaining people waited.

  “You will come with us,” the raygun-pointing Ungul said.

  I’d read a book once about using guns. The book had been paper-thin, more a pamphlet really. It had suggested one stay alert at all times, looking around constantly. I had failed in that today because I’d been trying to fit in and act zombie-like. One chapter in the book had always impressed me. It had been about surprise. The author suggested that surprise could help overcome terrible odds. It was a mindset thing. You had to practice it at peculiar times in order to hammer it into your brain. I had taken that chapter to heart a long time ago. That’s why I’d gone on the offensive at Station 5.

  I was already keyed-up standing here, waiting for my turn. The chapter had suggested that when assailants surprised you, one of the best tactics was to launch into an immediate attack. The emphasis had been on immediate. You had to jump at them and go all out. The original attacker, in most cases, would be expecting a compliant victim. The sudden assault from a position of weakness could freeze the original aggressor for a few critical moments. In that time, you had to score a telling blow.

  As the Ungul swiveled me around, I’d already been thinking, What the heck. It’s over. I might as well go out swinging.

  The shock of seeing an Ungul instead of the sheriff had stung me, and a moment passed. The next moment, I recalled the dictum, “Act immediately.” The third moment, I lunged at the Ungul and grabbed the end of his raygun. He pressed the firing stub, the end glowed and I shoved the weapon upward. The red ray shot up into the sky.

  While continuing to keep hold of the raygun, I stepped forward and rammed a knee into the Ungul’s groin. If he had been a man, I would have incapacitated him. Instead, he merely grunted, lifting up slightly.

  That was enough for me to wrench the raygun out of his grip. The other two finally reacted. One reached under his suit for his weapon. The other one rushed me.

  I shoved the original Ungul at him. They entangled and went down.

  I could have rayed the two. Instead, I spun around and faced the dark entranceway. Before the tower scanner could scan me, I plunged toward the darkness. That darkness proved as hard as a steel door. I rebounded off it like a Three Stooges’ idiot and collided with the two Unguls as they climbed to their feet. All three of us went down in a heap. They attempted to grapple me with their hot hands.

  I turned into a wildcat, throwing elbows, jabbing fingers and head butting each of them. I might have won free, but there was a third member of the team still standing. He finally reacted, pressing an agonizer against the back of my neck. The shock of pain was intense, sending hot spikes of agony into my brain. I bellowed, gritted my teeth—

  The agony spiked a second time. I recall arching my back, and that was the last thing I remember.

  ***

  I woke up with a terrible sense of déjà vu and failure. I lay on the floor in the back of a car, with an Ungul’s feet on my butt.

  I hated that. I hated Unguls, but I hated worse that I’d sacrificed Parker for nothing and lost Debby. She’d gone into the tower, and I’d been unable to follow her. The Unguls had wrecked that for me. It left me bitter, with a horrible taste in my mouth.

  “He is awake,” the backseat Ungul announced.

  I realized the taste wasn’t defeat, but came from the agonizer that had zapped me into unconsciousness. Since the Unguls had caught me a second time, should I just give up? No. If Parker was still alive, he’d need help. I owed it to him to keep struggling. I also had to rescue Debby if I could. That meant I had to shift with the tide. I had to go with this. I was down. Did that mean I had to consider myself out? That wasn’t my plan by a long shot.

  The Unguls began a lengthy process of questioning me. It was repetitious in the Ungul manner, and it brought several touches of the agonizer against my neck. I loathed the pain and normally would have done anything to avoid it. But I figured grudging answers were believable answers. I overplayed my hand, though.

  The driver and leader, Q4, said, “He is too stubborn to use, rendering him useless to the mission. Kill him.”

  “Wait!” I cried, switching tactics on a dime. If I couldn’t win free from these bastards, I’d never save Debby from the thing in the tower. “I know about the Canopus map. Surely, you’re curious about that.”

  The Unguls were silent for a time. By the crinkling of seat fabric, I imagined them glancing at each other, giving significant eyebrow raises, or whatever it was the Unguls did to communicate silently with each other.

  “Do you refer to the Canopus Star System?” the alien in the passenger seat asked. His name was Z21.

  I didn’t know the name of the Ungul with his feet on my butt, although he was the one I wanted to bust up the most.

  The important point was that they were curious about the ancient Canopus text. I had to play this the best I could. I took a moment to think about it, finally deciding on my strategy.

  “I refer to the Linear D text found on the fourth planet of the Canopus Star System,” I said. “There used to be an ancient weapon hidden there, too, but you guys lost it along with a Rigellian battlefleet.”

  “Could his information be true?” Q4 asked the others.

  “According to my analyzer,” Z21 said, “he believes he speaks the truth.”

  “But how can an ignorant aboriginal of this painful dirt-ball know anything about the Organizer’s former events or comrades?” Q4 asked. “We do not even know those things, although the Committee heads believe this mission is related to ancient relics.”

  I’d been listening as hard as I could. I had a feeling I was right about privateers being like pirates. I was betting that Alien Space Pirates were similar to historical Earth sea pirates. Both sets were likely greedy. And both sets likely had leaders who kept them in the dark about the most important aspects of any deal. That was Basic Criminal Mentality 101.

  “This is about more than ancient relics,” I said. “This is about Polarion treasure.”

  That brought another bout of Ungul silence.

  “Logic dictates the aboriginal has spoken to a Galactic Guard agent,” Q4 said in time. “Ask the aboriginal if that is so.”

  “Human—”

  “I heard you,” I said. “This has nothing to do with Galactic whatever you said. I know because humanity has a special branch. We’re not as savage as you aliens want to believe we are.”

  That proved to be too much for them. The Unguls began buzzing among themselves. After a time, the backseat rider rechecked my pockets.

  “He has a device,” the Ungul said, picking up the inert Rax.

  “What is the item?” Z21 asked me.

  “A cell phone,” I said.

  “It is inoperative,” the Ungul in back said.

  “Wow,” I said, sarcastically. “You’re kidding me? You mean you guys can call the Organizer from this place?”

  They buzzed among themselves longer than before. Finally, the backseat alien pressed the agonizer against my neck. It jolted me hard, and I slumped over, unconscious for a second time.

  -34-

  I woke up slouched in a corner amidst other junk: jackets, what seemed to be shell cases and duffel bags. My brain throbbed, a sore neck made it hard to move my head and I was ravenously hungry. I found they’d shackled my hands and feet, with a chain linking the two.

  It dawned on me that I was no longer in a car. I heard clanking outside like tank treads, and I was in a far larger compartment than before.

  Right, the tanks. They must have brought me into one of the alien tanks.

  I examined my surroundings. There were five Unguls at various positions. Each of them sat in a s
eat and manipulated controls or pressed his eyes against a periscope thingy. It wasn’t like an Earth tank. There was more space and it was all one compartment, about the size of a mid-level tool shed.

  I debated my options while trying to keep myself upbeat regarding my chances of ever seeing Debby again. I was still wearing my clothes. That was good. I could feel Rax in a jacket pocket. They must have believed me about the device being a cell phone.

  What was my plan then? That would depend on their plan. Did they have a way of leaving this out-of-phase place?

  I waited, but we kept traveling with no one paying me any attention. Finally, I cleared my throat.

  Q4 regarded me. At least, I think it was Q4.

  “Why didn’t you kill me?” I asked.

  “You have information,” he said. “I do not know how you acquired this information, but the Committee will have it one way or another.”

  “What if the Organizer doesn’t want you to have the information?” I asked.

  “He will audit us at the end of the mission. That is enough.”

  “I guess you’re saying what he doesn’t know can’t hurt him?”

  Q4 stared at me impassively. “That is illogical. A lack of information is often debilitating. You are alive because the Committee will desire all your data concerning the Canopus dig.”

  I tried to shift into a more comfortable position. It proved impossible. I wondered what had happened to Debby. I wondered what the thing in the tower had thought about the Unguls dragging me away from the door. Hadn’t any of the Far Butte people tried to interfere? I guess not. I was on my own, and I was sick of being in the dark. I’d have to start baiting my questions to get better responses.

  “Do you realize we’re out of phase here?” I asked.

  Q4 didn’t answer, but seemed content to stare at me as if I were some sort of museum piece. Finally, he said, “Explain the concept, ‘out of phase.’”

  “As far as I can tell,” I said, “the thing in the tower generates a field that causes the town and surrounding area to be out of phase with the rest of Earth.”

  “It is a temporal or spatial shift?”

  “Temporal would mean time travel, right?” I asked.

  “Do not seek to equivocate. Answer the question.”

  “I’m guessing it’s a spatial shift.”

  “That is our own assessment,” Q4 said. “You are uncommonly scientific and observant. How do you achieve this without specialized equipment?”

  “Do you mean your tanks have specialized equipment?” I asked.

  “I am here to interrogate you,” Q4 said. “You are not here to interrogate me.”

  “Sure,” I said. “Don’t rock the boat. I get it.”

  “Your statement is a non sequitur.”

  “Q4,” Z21 said. “I have a theory as to the human’s unaccountable brilliance with his accompanying ridiculousness.”

  “Speak,” Q4 told the other.

  “He may be an idiot savant,” Z21 said.

  “It is possible,” Q4 said. “I am more inclined to believe he has gained unbelievable data from strange sources. Whatever the truth, we must assimilate the data. If the aboriginal is even partly correct, we may be able to bargain with the Organizer for a larger share of the take.”

  “We are all agreed with you,” Z21 said.

  “I did not ask for your agreement,” Q4 informed him. “I am the trio leader. I decide all tertiary quandaries. Is there any in the cubicle who gainsays my authority?”

  None of the other Unguls spoke up. I guess he’d just put down a semi-rebellion before it had gotten out of hand. I would have liked to know more about their social structure. As far as I could tell, the Unguls were alien cannon fodder, bottom feeders. The Min Ve and Jarnevon likely looked down on the Unguls the way that some high brass looked down on foot soldiers.

  We traveled for another half hour, the ride becoming jerkier and angled more severely the longer it lasted. Finally, the treads quit churning and we came to a stop.

  Q4 opened a hatch, poking his head out. He pulled his head in to buzz to the others. That was the start of a general exodus, which included me.

  Instead of unshackling my ankles, two Unguls hoisted me upright and dragged me across the chamber. They thrust me through the hatch, where another Ungul dragged me over uneven rocks.

  The tank was at an angle on rocks on the side of a large hill. The rest of the slope was behind us. I could see the valley floor, and I made out an area that must have been Far Butte. A glint of reflected sunlight showed me the white tower.

  What would I have found inside there? Could I have defeated whatever had turned on the out-of-phase cloaking device?

  Some of the Unguls set up a table on a level area. Others brought out equipment from the tank, putting it on the table.

  “How come there’s only one tank here?” I asked Q4.

  The Ungul leader ignored me. He stood, watching the other four set up futuristic-looking equipment. Finally, one cranked an umbrella-like device overhead. He kept cranking, sending the dish much higher than seemed reasonable.

  “Are you trying to contact your orbital vessel?” I asked.

  Once more, Q4 ignored me.

  I shifted my position, beginning to slide away.

  That brought an immediate response. Q4 turned to me. “If you attempt to escape, we will cause you much pain.”

  “Roger that,” I said. “I was just trying to scratch my back. This itch is killing me.”

  Q4 watched me as I slid against a boulder. It was painful work with the crick in my neck. Finally, I rubbed my back against the rock and made sighing, contented sounds.

  “That feels good,” I said.

  Q4 turned back to the others. They continued to hook up equipment like a rock band getting ready for a show.

  Fifteen minutes later, the four of them sat in chairs. A growing expectancy was building in me as they tapped screens and adjusted dials.

  Q4 buzzed orders.

  The tank began to hum. A section of the spherical upper canopy lifted higher on three hydraulic poles. The antennas there glowed with power. Soon, the antennas began to rotate like radar dishes.

  “Are you doing something about being out of phase?” I asked.

  “Yes,” Q4 said.

  I wondered if they were going to try to link to the energy source that would be Station 5. Was that why they had come down there at Western Sunlight?

  “We are ready?” Z21 said, as he studied his screen.

  “What is the status regarding points two and three?” Q4 asked.

  I imagined those points were the locations for the other two tanks.

  “Point three needs refinement,” Z21 said.

  “Tell them to hurry.”

  Z21 turned around to look at Q4. “Is there are a reason for concern?”

  Q4 pointed in the direction of Far Butte.

  Z21 turned back to his controls.

  Time passed. I wondered how they could bring us back into phase. I soon realized the how didn’t matter. Would coming back into phase revive Rax? If it did, would the crystal give himself away by talking before he realized the situation? What about the Min Ve’s orbital vessel? Would it rain orbital rods onto the white tower?

  I shook my head. Wasn’t the tower the prize, or whatever was in there, the prize? If the Min Ve did attack the tower and killed Debby…

  I shook my head again, refusing to go there in my thoughts. Instead, I leaned against the rock, waiting.

  “Location three is ready,” Z21 announced some time later.

  “Synchronize your stations,” Q4 said.

  I watched him closely. The trio leader seemed absorbed in his task.

  I began twisting my feet and testing the bonds on my wrist. Neither would give. I could possibly wear down the metal against a rock. I didn’t have that kind of time, though.

  I slid over rocks until I was at the farthest edge of them from the group. I suppose I could stand and hop like a fool.
That might be better if something went wrong.

  Our tank began to hum, and the radar dishes up there turned faster.

  “Synchronize the stations,” Q4 said. He didn’t speak any faster or louder than earlier. Unguls always used the same tone and inflection. But there was an urgency to him just the same.

  The tank’s hum increased yet again.

  “Synchronize the stations,” Q4 said.

  The four Unguls at the table worked faster.

  Suddenly, the tank’s hum smoothed out. The hard vibration in the air ceased. My shoulders eased, and the itchiness in my mind was gone.

  Now, a new lower hum took over. It began building up, and soon, the new hum set my teeth on edge.

  “Q4,” Z21 said. “There is a spike on my energy chart.”

  I craned my head toward them so I could hear what they were saying.

  “Do you detect any advanced weaponry aimed at us?” Q4 said.

  I sat back against a boulder, frowning. What kind of question was that? My eyebrows rose. He must mean the tower.

  I struggled up to a higher sitting position, staring intently into the valley. A wink of bright light appeared from the white tower.

  I cried out, jumped up and began to hop away, with the chain between my ankles and wrists jangling madly.

  “Increase the intensity,” Q4 said.

  “They are building up an attack—”

  I didn’t hear more because a terrible buzzing and burning soared overhead. I cringed but somehow forced myself to look up. A bright yellow line slashed through the air, making crunching sounds as if it burned molecules in its passage.

  Abruptly, the sound and the line disappeared, although there were afterimages in the air.

  I found myself panting, the air hot inside my throat. I realized the white tower must have tried to beam us but missed. Whatever lived in there had resurrected some kind of ancient weaponry.

  I continued hopping, working my way up the rocky slope. The Unguls weren’t paying me the slightest attention now. They were too busy working the equipment on the table.

  Another searing fiery beam sliced through the air. This one was closer than before, and it was so hot I threw myself down, twisting so that I hit with my left shoulder and rolled down the rocks, landing closer to the Ungul table than before.