“Beryl, you were never going to be that girl.” Vlad put an arm around Beryl, pulling her closer to him. “If it hadn’t been the Earthlings, it would have been something else. Maybe not something so dramatic, but something.”
Beryl lifted her hand and wiped away a teardrop that had fallen earlier but still lingered on her cheek.
And finally, curled up next to Vlad, Beryl fell asleep.
Chapter Twenty
Beryl checked her gun for what had to be the hundredth time since she had taken up the spot in the woods on the outskirts of town. From where she sat, looking at the buildings in the small town she called home, everything looked normal, save for the complete lack of people.
To distract herself from what she knew was coming, Beryl scratched Camp behind the ears. He was lying next to her, his head on his paws. Beryl could tell he sensed her nervousness. She knew she had to try to be calm for Camp if nothing else.
It wasn’t working, and Camp wasn’t fooled.
Something rustled the leaves about 100 feet from where she was crouched next to a large rock. Her immediate instinct was to point the gun at whatever it was rustling the leaves, but her mind overrode that urge.
Beryl didn’t have to see what was behind the rustling to know it was Vlad. When they had been preparing for the attack this morning, he had insisted on being near her.
“I want to make sure you come through it OK,” he had said. He was one of about half the residents of Columbina who had volunteered to fight for their planet against the AI.
“I’m perfectly capable of handling myself out there,” Beryl had immediately spat back at him. As soon as she did, she knew it was a reaction to what had happened the night before. She didn’t want him to think there was still something between them. Best to stop any sentiments of that sort before they got started.
“I know that. Maybe I’m using this as an excuse to be near one of the best shots on the planet.” Beryl had tried not to read anything into that comment. Instead, she tried to remember that, after spending years of their lives in the woods, there was no one else she would want next to her as they awaited the inevitable.
Inevitable was a good word for what they were waiting for. There was no way to avoid it, no way to hide from it. It was coming, whether they wanted it to or not.
Iris hadn’t broken through the Earthlings’ security to access their drones. She was still in the caves, making sure nothing—like an errant bullet—interrupted her ability to continue her attempts to gain access and control the weapons of the Earth AI.
Before Beryl had left, though, Iris had pulled her aside to talk to her.
To everyone else, Iris was working as fast as possible.
“I could be done before they get here,” she had told the group of them going to the surface to fight for Columbina right before they had taken the elevators to the surface of the planet. “I might get through at any moment.”
As they left, Iris pulled Beryl aside. No one would have thought anything of it, knowing the two of them were close.
“The truth is,” she had said as Beryl hugged her before heading to the surface, “you’re all on your own for the beginning of this. I won’t be done.”
When Iris had said that, the first thing that came to Beryl’s mind was that she was happy Iris couldn't cry. Or everyone else would have known something was wrong, instead of just Beryl.
“Hey,” Beryl had said, trying to reassure Iris as she pulled out of their hug, “Us humans are always getting ourselves into big messes. We’ll muddle our way through this one, too.”
“Stay safe out there, Beryl.”
“You stay safe in here, Iris. You and Camp are the only ones I have left now.” Iris had opened her mouth then, as if to say something, but no words come out. Instead, she hugged Beryl again.
Beryl’s phone buzzed as she scratched her dog’s ears, and she saw a message from Iris.
It was a message to all of them in the woods.
It was an alert, letting them know the drones were arriving in two minutes.
The face on Beryl’s phone switched to a countdown screen. She turned away from it and prepared herself for what was about to happen.
“The Earthlings’ drones aren’t sophisticated,” Iris had told them before sending them to the surface, the group of Columbinians charged with saving their home planet gathered in a half circle around her underground. “They, like everything else on the ship, are of similar technology to that of Earth at the time we left. But remember that a lot more people have died at the hands of unsophisticated technology than have died from the sort of technology we now have.”
The statement was a contrast to Iris’s reaction to the Earthlings and their AI. Since their arrival, Iris had been nearly constantly mumbling and shaking her head, commenting on how she couldn’t figure out how such a backward intelligence system ever made it this far into the universe.
Beryl had refrained from making any statements that noted Iris left Earth as that exact technology. Or that Iris was, at the moment, having major issues getting past the security systems of these backward AI.
Beryl turned her eyes to her phone, watching the countdown timer until it hit 30 seconds, when she began scanning the sky for the incoming drones.
Nothing. The only interruption in the blue sky of Columbina were some white clouds floating by. Beryl tried to enjoy the moment. After all, it might be one of the last ones she would spend alive.
The thought chased away any good feelings she had.
The countdown on Beryl’s watch hit zero.
Still nothing.
She scanned the sky again, straining to see anything marring the blue sky other than the clouds.
And then, from the dog next to her, she heard a deep, throaty growl.
Beryl knew what that growl was before his translator told her. Camp didn’t know what was coming, but he was ready to deal with whatever showed up. He turned his head toward the sky, his floppy ears nearly pricked up to catch every sound coming from above him.
Beryl heard what he did a few seconds later.
It was a deep, humming sound, something like what Beryl imagined bees would sound like if thousands of them were attacking at the same time.
Somewhere across the expanse of town, where others were in the woods awaiting the arrival of the drones, Beryl heard a whoop go up.
It seemed someone was excited to take out the drones of the Earth AI.
Beryl’s heart was beating so fast and hard, she thought Vlad, sitting in the woods near her, could probably hear it. The adrenaline flowing through her body amped up all her senses, magnifying everything around her.
It seemed that the person who had let out the whoop on the other side of town wasn’t the only one excited to have the chance to protect Columbina.
Beryl kept her eyes on the sky, looking for the approaching drones. Still, the only aspect of their approach she could make out was their sound.
Framed against one of the fluffy white clouds, she finally saw something. From where Beryl sat, it looked like a black dot. As it grew closer, the black dot expanded until she could see that it was not one object, but hundreds—maybe thousands—of separate objects, descending toward the planet’s surface at a high rate of speed.
The drones drew closer, and like fighter pilots, they suddenly spread out to cover all of the town at the edge of the woods. As they did so, they seemed to slow. It meant Beryl could get a good view of them before they came into range of their guns.
The most striking thing about the drones was their size. They were far larger than Beryl had expected. Most Columbinian drones were small; the only exceptions were some required to perform heavy-duty tasks. Most of those large drones performed mining and manufacturing tasks. The second most striking thing was to see so many drones at once. Usually, their drones operated in pairs, or sometimes up to a half dozen. To see hundreds of large drones operating at the same time was something Beryl had never seen before.
Nothing about these drones m
ade any sense.
Like Iris, Beryl had a difficult time believing the Earthlings hadn’t updated their technology in the decades since Hodios had left Earth—excepting maybe their firewall technology. They were the ones living the easy life on Earth. In space, everything was difficult, from coming up with food to getting oxygen. Living somewhere with everything you needed in abundance, like on Earth, seemed like it would have been luxurious. You would have all the time in the world to devote to pursuits making life even easier than it already was.
Maybe, Beryl thought, this was why there was the adage about necessity being the mother of invention. In space, you needed every advantage to survive, and any innovation gave you more of a chance to live to see the next day. On Earth, survival was almost guaranteed.
Or maybe there was something else going on back on Earth.
Maybe, Beryl thought as the first of the drones reached a distance where she thought she could hit them, we simply got off that rock in time.
Beryl kept her eye on one drone heading in a direction that looked distinctly like where she was sitting in the woods. It was definitely within range of her gun.
She knew the plan. She was supposed to wait to shoot. But it would be so easy take a shot now, take the drone heading for her out whether she was supposed to or not.
As the drone grew ever closer, Beryl could pick out its own engine noise, separate and distinct from the other drones descending toward Columbina. It was so loud now, it drowned out even the sounds of Camp growling next to her in the woods.
Finally, as Beryl resolved to take a shot whether she was supposed to or not, a loud whistle erupted from her phone, above all the other noise on the planet.
The signal.
Around Beryl and across the town where she made her home, the world exploded. Apparently, she had not been the only one anxious to get started shooting at these drones.
Beryl took careful aim at the drone heading toward her, and shot, hitting the drone dead center in its circular frame.
Almost immediately, the drone exploded in a small fireball.
“Holy shit!” Beryl said, unable to keep the words in. She had never seen anything inanimate explode like that from a bullet. Perhaps Iris had modified their smart bullets to destroy the drones as entirely as possible. Or maybe the drones were using some sort of accelerant that exacerbated the effects of the smart bullets.
Whatever it was, it was pretty awesome.
Beryl looked around and saw dozens of other drones exploding in the same manner, making the sky over their town a miniature, daytime fireworks show.
Some more happy cries went up around Beryl. She was definitely not the only one who was enjoying the explosions.
For maybe two more minutes, the drones continued their entirely ineffective assault. Although Beryl could see some of the drones getting off shots from what looked to be guns mounted to their undersides, those shots were few and far between. Beryl took the drones near her out one-by-one, picking them off like something out of a video game involving invaders from space.
Actually, that was exactly what was going on.
Beryl almost felt bad for the poor, overmatched drones. Their smart bullets obliterated the drones, while whatever sort of bullets they were using seemed almost ineffectual against the Columbinians. They seemed to be taking out the drones at will.
Taking out a sixth drone, it seemed to Beryl there was something about the situation akin to sending in a fighter jet to battle a bi-plane. Sure, the bi-plane might get off a few lucky shots, but it was anything but a fair fight.
The number of explosions started to taper off, and Beryl watched as the few remaining drones began to be taken out by several people at a time. To her left, several voices were shouting about who was getting credit for one of the last of them to go up in an explosion.
Finally, there was only one drone left in the sky. Something seemed to have gone wrong with it. It wasn’t going in any particular direction, but heading one way and then another without any pattern, almost like a drunk person staggering home. A dozen shots from the woods went off, the smart bullets not fooled by the wayward trajectory of the drone.
Still confused, the drone exploded in one last, giant fireball.
Around Beryl, a cheer exploded from what seemed to be every human at once.
They had won.
Chapter Twenty-One
Like everyone else, when the last of the drones exploded, Vlad emerged from the woods into the clearing around town. As soon as Beryl did the same, he high fived her, then they hugged like something out of an action film, all arms and back slaps and over-enthusiasm.
And yet, at that moment, it seemed entirely appropriate.
Around them, the scene repeated in various manners along the woods surrounding their town, with high fives exchanged for fist bumps with some and a few chest bumps instead of hugs.
As Vlad’s siblings emerged from the woods where they had been stationed, he repeated the scene with them one-by-one. Unconsciously he counted them, the oldest sibling charged with keeping track of them even when his mother, one of those who had stayed behind, had not explicitly asked him to do so.
One, Ashton. Two, Alexis. Three, Heming. The first three to come out of the woods emerged excited and comparing kill numbers for the drones. Heming was clearly exaggerating his kill numbers, which would surprise no one in their family, nor anyone else on Columbina with more than a mere acquaintance with the young man.
“I’d say at least twelve,” Heming bragged, earning a smack in the head from Ashton, the second oldest of Vlad’s siblings.
“What’s that, one for every cell in your brain?” Alexis, the middle child, asked her older brother. She promptly got the finger from Heming, but Alexis simply smiled at his brash confidence, having been on the receiving end of its effects for her whole life.
Mike, the youngest, stepped out of the woods beside Dean, the fourth and fifth of Vlad’s siblings to emerge.
Counting himself, that meant there were six of them out there.
Vlad smiled, watching his siblings celebrate and almost wishing the Earth AI would throw another round of drones at them. This had been more fun than any alien invasion was supposed to be.
Then, Camp barked.
Vlad didn’t have the translator for the dog. But, as the dog started back toward the woods, something was bothering him.
Beryl, on the other hand, did have the translator for Camp and she therefore realized what was wrong before Vlad did.
“Mannie!”
Beryl started running toward the woods, but Camp beat her there. Vlad took off after her, his siblings following.
By the time Vlad got there, Beryl was already kneeling by Mannie’s side. The teenager was lying, unmoving, on the ground, a brownish-red stain slowly growing on his dark green shirt.
Mannie’s eyes were closed, and he looked lifeless. Vlad couldn’t help but think he might have to tell his mother that she had lost not only her husband to the Earthlings, but one of her children as well.
Vlad brushed the hair off of his brother’s pale forehead, which gave him a good view of the familiar face. He always thought of Mannie as a little kid. With his little brother lying on the ground, dying in front of his eyes, though, Mannie looked even younger than his fourteen years. The whole scene bothered Vlad for a reason he couldn’t immediately put his finger on.
It wasn’t that Vlad hadn’t seen people injured. He’d seen more than most. As a pilot charged with taking people all over an unexplored planet, he was often the first person to arrive on a scene where something horrific had happened or the one who took a person into a situation where they got hurt. Injuries were part of what was expected when exploring a new world. The injuries came in all sorts of unexpected ways. Someone discovered you definitely did not want to smell those pink flowers if you valued an uncollapsed nasal cavity. Those fish and sea creatures in the ocean? The few who weren’t toxic to the touch would rip you to shreds. At least four people had tu
mbled into hidden caves since their arrival on Columbina. More people than Vlad could remember had fallen out of trees. And a few years earlier, Beryl had learned the hard way that just because a creature looks like a hamster, doesn’t mean it isn’t venomous like a snake.
And, too many times to count, Vos had shown up.
But this was something entirely different. This wasn’t an accident, or foolhardiness, or bad luck.
Someone, or something, had done this to Mannie. And that someone or something had done this to him on purpose.
Camp pushed his way toward Mannie, shoving his nose between Beryl and Vlad. The position gave him an opportunity to nudge the boy’s face with his nose. When he did so, Mannie’s eyes opened up, blinking in the sunlight filtering through the trees above them.
“Jesus, kid, you scared me,” Vlad commented as he leaned over his brother, cradling Mannie’s head in his left hand.
“Did we get them?” Mannie asked. His voice was breathless as the boy struggled for breaths that weren’t coming easily.
“It’s his shoulder,” Beryl said. Vlad looked to her, but she hadn’t moved from where she knelt at his brother’s side, holding Mannie’s hand tightly between both of her own. Beryl had always enjoyed the company of his big family, but she and Mannie were alike in so many ways, with their boundless curiosity and lack of concern for other’s opinions of them, that their relationship had always been somehow closer than Beryl’s relationships with the rest of them.
Vlad’s watch buzzed on his wrist, and he saw a message from Iris, telling him that Mannie had been shot in the shoulder. It must have been how Beryl knew what had happened without actually looking at Mannie.
However Iris knew about the injury, her words were clear: someone needed to bring the boy back to the caves as soon as possible. Iris would work with the planet’s two doctors and several nurses to get him healed up.
The message should have given Vlad some relief, but instead, it planted a question in his mind. He knew Iris monitored them, but he had no idea she could monitor them down to a level where she could diagnose their medical issues. How was she able to do so? The best explanation was that she had drones watching the scene, but something about that explanation seemed off, as if it couldn’t explain everything about the situation.
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