Space Corps_Symbiant

by K. D. Mattis

  Moving to her chair, the admiral immediately pulled up a console and began running through logs.

  “Lieutenant Card,” Asher said, “please confirm all stations are prepared for departure.”

  The woman set to work while Asher continued sorting through the logs. She skimmed through most of it, seeing nothing of interest, but she stopped every time she saw an entry from someone stationed on the ship. After a while, she skimmed through even her crew’s logs.

  “Sir,” Card said, “all stations report ready for departure.”

  Asher smiled and pushed her monitor off to the side. “Thank you. Gonzales, please get these engines started.”

  A new ensign sat beside the pilot, and Asher found herself staring at the back of his head. He worked efficiently, and in perfect unison with Gonzales, but Asher couldn’t look away. She watched his every move for some mistake or some sign that he didn’t belong. That sign never came. Asher broke her stare as a steady shake filled the ship.

  The communications officer spoke into a microphone. “Ambassador Station, this is Lieutenant Card of the USSC Explorer, requesting permission to depart.” After a pause, she turned to the center of the room and said, “Admiral, we’re clear.”

  “Good. Gonzales, take us out.”

  On the large monitors at the front of the room, a video feed showed various hoses and tubes connected to the outside of the Explorer popping off and retracting toward the space station. A couple of the hoses left a trail of frozen water droplets that shone like diamonds in the sunlight. Two clamps opened and pulled away, leaving the Explorer floating on its own.

  Small thrusters at the front of the ship fired. Because of their size, they fired and pushed for several minutes before the Explorer moved a perceptible distance away from the station. When the ship finally reached a distance several times its length, thrusters on the side of the ship pushed and maneuvered it out into the open.

  “Destination, sir?” Gonzales asked.

  “Set us on a general patrol route. Distance us from the station.”

  Pulling on a lever, the pilot engaged the primary thrusters and pushed the ship away from the planet.

  Driving alone, Ryan Gibbs pulled into a ratty motel. He saw several black SUVs in the parking lot and men dressed in full tactical gear standing near the cars or searching the motel room by room. Instead of parking, he circled the motel once and pulled back out into the street. He knew that if Harris was there, someone would have already picked him up.

  The commander kept driving. He didn’t have much to go on, but he looked every direction, just hoping to catch a glimpse of the lieutenant. When he reached the edge of the town, he parked his car, got out, and sat on the hood with a water bottle in his hand. Every hour, on the hour, he called Harris’s cell phone. Each time, he waited on the phone until it reached voicemail. When he heard the familiar message, he left a brief message and then hung up.

  Well after nightfall, the commander looked down at his buzzing phone. It showed a text message from a number he didn’t recognize, asking where to meet. He immediately dialed the number and waited for an answer. The phone picked up, but no one spoke.

  “Harris, are you there?” Gibbs asked.

  No response.

  “I get it,” the commander said. “I’m on the edge of town in my car. Meet me now, or deal with Central Command. Head west on the highway and you’ll see me.”

  Gibbs waited for something, any sign at all that the person on the other end of the line heard and understood the message, but he gave up when he heard the telltale click.

  The temperature dropped as the night went on. With a shake, Commander Gibbs stood up and got in the car. He sat there another hour before he saw a man on a bicycle approaching. He got back out, reached under his arm, and pulled out a pistol.

  “That’s far enough,” Gibbs said, aiming his gun at the man.

  The man stopped. He swung his leg over the bike and stepped clear, letting the bike fall to the ground.

  “What’s going on?” Gibbs asked.

  “You have water?”

  Gibbs reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a half-empty bottle of water. He tossed it onto the ground between the two men but kept his gun up. The other man pulled back a hood to reveal his face and dropped to the ground, crawling forward for the water.

  Rolling his shoulders forward to shake off the chill, Gibbs said, “Why did you escape?”

  Harris threw his head back as he drank, emptying every last drop of water from the bottle. Some went in his mouth. The rest down his beard.

  “I needed information.”

  “So do we.”

  Harris looked to the ground and winced. “I—I know. I’m trying to get you everything I can.”

  “You haven’t been very forthcoming.”

  “I’m doing what I can!” Harris shouted. “It’s not as easy as asking someone. It’s all up to interpretation, and people keep trying to keep me from it.”

  “That thing? The parasite.”

  Screaming in pain, Harris dropped to his knees and pushed his palms against his temples. “It doesn’t like being called that. It doesn’t even want me talking to you.”

  “Why?”

  “You humans are all the same. You’re impulsive. If you blow our cover, they’ll come for us. They’ll kill us all.”

  Gibbs cocked his head to the side and let his gun lower slightly. “What?”

  “You want to know what’s going to happen?”

  Gibbs nodded.

  “It doesn’t matter. It’s too late.” Harris grimaced and said, “No, it’s not.”

  “Who am I talking to?” Gibbs asked. “The—alien or Harris?”

  “Both.”

  Letting out a frustrated sigh, Gibbs put his gun away and kicked at the dirt. “It doesn’t matter. We did what you asked. We have ships in the air, and they’re ready to go, but we need more information. What to look for, where to go, something.”

  “I can’t,” Harris said softly.

  “You have to.” Gibbs sat on the hood of his car. “Whatever you are, you want the aliens gone, right? The aliens in the ships, I mean.”

  Harris nodded.

  “Why? They put you in Harris’s head to give us a warning. Why help us at all?”

  Crawling forward, Harris pushed off the ground several times, but couldn’t quite get his feet under his body to stand up. After rolling his eyes, Gibbs stepped forward and extended a hand.

  Harris took a deep breath and said, “The Culdarians are conquerors. Any time a species gets too far from its home planet, they come in and destroy enough so that the species can never leave their planet again. When a species fights back, it’s practically wiped out. Any survivors become slaves.”

  “Is that what happened to your species?” Gibbs asked.

  Harris nodded again. He looked around at the stars, his eyes darting around as if he was looking for something specific. He looked back down to Gibbs a few moments later with a disappointed look on his face.

  “We fought,” Harris said. “We were too late. By the time we realized how serious of a threat the Culdarians posed, they ravaged our planet the same way they’re about to ravage yours.”

  “How?”

  “It’s already begun.”

  “Give us something!” Gibbs shouted. “We’ve fought them before, and we won. We can do it again.”

  Turning, Harris started to walk away. After a few steps, he stopped and turned back around. “It’s extra-low frequency radio waves. It’s a technology that our species never mastered. Frankly, we never learned how the Culdarians used it, but we do know they used it to control the weather on our planet.”

  “What?” Gibbs asked.

  “We weren’t ready when we encountered them the first time. They wiped out our ships, space stations, and satellites. After that, they brought in a massive device. We never saw it, but it produced extra-low frequency radio waves. Something about the way it pulsed—I don’t know how it wor
ked, but it controlled our weather.

  “We barely noticed at first. We saw their ships up there from time to time, and we had storms. The storms were bad, but they didn’t seem unusual. Then they increased in frequency and severity. Eventually, they used earthquakes. They targeted them to damage our military bases and the ocean.”

  With his hand on his phone, Gibbs turned back to his car. “Why the ocean?”

  “Massive tsunamis, like you saw in the Bay of Bengal. But that was just a test, I promise. They’ll get worse, and they’ll strike all over the globe. The longer it goes, the worse it will get. If you can find the extra-low frequency generator and destroy it, you might have a chance, but you don’t have much time. It’s already in use.”

  As Gibbs sat down in his car, he looked back at the former pilot. “Is Harris still in there?”

  “When he lets me.” After a pause, Harris looked to the ground and added, “I know they’re looking for me. You think I should turn myself in, don’t you?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Well, I can’t. There’s information. If I can find it, it might help us.”

  Gibbs gave an understanding nod. “Then do what you have to do.”

  17

  “Sir, we’re not picking up the signal,” said Ensign Daly.

  Asher turned to Lieutenant Card and said, “Get Ambassador Station and Lunar Colony One on the line. Give them the information Gibbs sent us and tell them to look for the extra-low frequency radio waves. Their equipment is stronger. They may have more luck identifying the source.”

  Lieutenant Card nodded and set to work, speaking into her microphone and typing out several messages.

  With a steady, metallic clank, Asher paced across the bridge.

  “Anything yet?” Asher asked, turning back to the scanning team.

  “Negative, sir.”

  “Holt, Tran, what’s your status?”

  Holt looked up at the admiral briefly before burying his head back in his console. “All missile, torpedo, and railguns are loaded. We’re ready for just about anything.”

  “And the drones?”

  “Loaded, charged, and ready for launch.”

  “Card,” Asher said, “please contact the Russians as well. They should have the Stalingrad on standby, but we need to confirm.”

  A few minutes later, Card replied, “Sir, the Russians report ready to launch at any time. They’re estimating fifteen minutes to reach Ambassador Station after launch, if they’re needed.”

  Sighing, Asher found her seat and pulled up her console. As she ran through the information the scanning team fed to her, she didn’t see anything unusual. If they missed something, she didn’t see it either, so she couldn’t fault them. For several minutes, she continued pouring over the steady stream of data until she threw her head back into the chair.

  “Sir?” Gonzales said. “Is there anything I can do?”

  Asher sat up straight. “Yes. Take us out farther. Maybe we need to spread out our net to find anything.”

  A low rumble woke Commander Cole from his sleep. He turned to look at his watch before twisting into a more comfortable position. A second rumble left him lying in bed staring at the ceiling. His face twisted as he stared at the texturing of the ceiling above. For a second, he thought he saw it move. Though he gave up watching it only a moment later, he couldn’t force his eyes closed again.

  The building shook, and the commander jumped to his feet. Above him, the ceiling cracked and sent down a shower of crumbled drywall. The same evacuation notice as before blared over the space center’s speaker system. A loud crack overpowered the volume of the system, and the commander shot out of his quarters in only shorts and a tee shirt.

  While he ran down the hall, the commander turned to another man who struggled to run as he tried to put on his boots and move at the same time.

  “What’s going on?” Cole asked.

  “Earthquake. Again.”

  “Did they say what’s causing it?”

  “Not yet. Any idea?”

  Cole left the man wondering and took off running. His bare feet pounded on the floor with a steady slap. He passed many people. When they noticed his speed, some of them panicked and took off in a sprint as well, but with no idea of where to go or what to do.

  By the time Cole made it to the surface of the base, the building had descended into chaos. While the men and women stationed on the base knew where to go, no one gave them further instructions, and they allowed their fear to grip them.

  “Commander!”

  Turning around but not stopping, Cole watched as two men hurried to catch up with him.

  “What’s going on, sir?” asked one of the men.

  Cole shook his head. “Get to the Guardian.”

  “But—” The man struggled to speak as he gasped for breath. “We’re supposed to go to the evac point.”

  “Get to the Guardian. That’s an order.”

  Confused, but without any further instruction, the two men continued following their commander.

  Every few steps, Cole hopped as the pain in his leg came to his attention. He didn’t let it slow him down, but he gritted his teeth to keep from shouting out in pain.

  The group made it to the parking lot and ran into a shuttle bus. The driver’s eyes went wide when Cole unbuckled his seatbelt and pulled him from behind the wheel.

  “What’s going on?” the driver asked.

  “Get out,” Cole said as he pushed the man toward the exit.

  “This is my bus—”

  The two men following Cole grabbed the driver by the shoulders and pulled him off the bus before hopping in themselves. They grabbed for a bar when the bus lurched forward, and they did their best to find steady footing. By the time the bus made it up to speed, they lowered themselves into their seats.

  Approaching a curb, Cole pressed down on the gas pedal and stiffened his shoulders. His body thrashed about, but the bus cleared the curb without difficulty. Once the bus made its way into the large field, the occupants bounced about, but kept their eyes on the large building ahead of them.

  “Sir, Ambassador Station is seeing something,” Card said.

  “Where?” Asher stood and looked at the monitors at the front of the room.

  “They’re working on triangulating the location of the signal. I’m also getting reports from the space center. They’re having an earthquake.”

  “Again?”

  “That’s what they said.”

  The admiral looked to the scanning team. She didn’t need to give them any orders. They scrambled to find the same signal Ambassador Station saw.

  “It’s getting stronger, sir,” Card said with a panicked tone.

  Asher turned to face her. “What’s wrong?”

  “It’s the news feeds. Stations all over the world are reporting unusual activity. The stronger the signal, the more places I see reporting problems.”

  “So, Harris was right.”

  “It seems so, sir.”

  “Let’s hope he was wrong about it being too late,” Asher said. “Any word on the location of the signal?”

  For a moment, Ensign Card continued working in silence.

  “Well?”

  Card looked up with wide eyes. “The lunar colony sees the signal too. They’re working out the location.” The ensign looked back to her console and shouted, “They have it. It’s coming from a near-Earth object, not too far away.”

  “Gonzales, take us there,” Asher said.

  The pilot pulled back on a lever that pushed the Explorer forward at incredible speed. The craft shook as it moved, but not as bad as it had before its recent upgrades. Asher watched a number on the bottom corner of one of the room’s monitors. The number grew until Asher whispered.

  “A new speed record.”

  “Sir?” Gonzales asked.

  “It’s nothing. Harris would be happy for you.”

  “We see the signal,” said the senior member of the scanning team. “It
’s a tight-beam radio frequency that’s incredibly strong. We couldn’t detect it before because the transmission bleed is so low.”

  Nodding, Asher said, “Can we see the object on screen?”

  The monitors lit up. The left monitor showed what looked like an empty field of stars with a green circle around an empty space. The right monitor showed a blurry rock, barely distinguishable from the black space around it.

  “That’s it?” Asher asked.

  “Looks like it, sir,” Ensign Tran said. “We’re locking on now. We’ll be in range in just a few minutes.”

  Asher smiled and took her seat. “Good. Unload on it. We don’t need to take any chances.”

  The Explorer continued moving forward. Across the ship’s hull, multiple ports opened, unveiling many missile launchers and torpedo tubes.

  “Look at that,” Holt said.

  On the zoomed in picture, dots of light appeared out of nowhere and moved in between the Explorer and the near-Earth object.

  “Sir, I can’t target the object,” Tran said.

  A member of the scanning team said, “We’re picking up multiple hostile signatures.”

  “Why didn’t we see them before?” Asher asked, tightening her grip on the arms of her chair.

  “I don’t know.” The man continued working quickly, his eyes moving between several monitors. “It’s possible they were powered off to conserve power. If they were on, we would have seen the energy signature of the engines at a minimum. I’m sorry, there’s no way we could have seen this.”

  “Orders?” Gonzales asked.

  “Keep moving forward. Prepare for evasive maneuvers. Keep us on track to attack the object.”

  The Explorer moved forward, and the alien ships moved into a tighter formation, effectively blocking their path toward the near-Earth object.

  “Tactical,” Asher said, “fire six standard torpedoes at the bulk of the group. Helm, prepare to veer off immediately after impact.”

  Holt entered a sequence of commands that sent a series of six torpedoes toward the alien ships. The blast struck four ships and left a mark but didn’t do any real damage. The Explorer twisted and shot off back toward the space station.