by Sahara Foley
I peek out the tent door. It's barely light enough to recognize objects outside. I see fires everywhere, and men either sitting, or standing by them.
“Umm. Smell that, kid? Bacon. Coffee. I'm in heaven. C'mon, let's get dressed and eat. I'm starving.”
Catching my arm, she pulls me to her. “Oh no you don't, I'm not done with you yet, mister.”
Dropping her head to my lap, she sucks me into her soft, warm mouth, and in seconds, I'm erect again. Looking up with a glimmer in her green eyes, she pushes me back, then feline crawls on top of me, slowly impales herself on me, and begins rocking back and forth. Feels like heaven to me, as I tightly grip her rocking hips, but must feel even better for her. She's moaning, gyrating faster and faster, grinding her hips harder and harder into me. Feeling her right on the brink, I give one finally hard thrust, sending her into orgasm heaven, with me right behind her. Finally, coming back to Earth, she's straddling me, panting, with sweat trickling down her long back.
“You're insatiable, woman. You're too much,” I tell her as I gently pull her hair.
She leans forward until her tantalizing nipples are barely brushing my lips, saying, “You did this to me, MAN. Now, suffer.” She rolls off me and commences dressing. “Let's go. I'm ready to face anything now.”
She's glowing, full of energy and vitality. I'm half worn out. Women.
Following her out the tent, I notice the sky's lighter. Ruth stops dead in her tracks, staring at the lake. In the bay, where the three burned-out hulks used to be, sit bigger ships. Battleships. Alongside them, two submarines. The five battleships look mean, but the two subs catch and hold my eye. They're one-fourth the size of the biggest subs, but that slim frame looks ominous and deadly as hell. They make a definite impact on my mind.
Standing, the Major salutes, then moves two chairs over for us. He never spoke, so he must think we're still deaf.
“Major, we're able to hear today,” I inform him as we take our seats.
“That's good news, Merlin. Would you like coffee, or tea?”
I glance over at Ruth, who's still glowing, and tell him one of each. He yells at someone, and soon one of his men show up with a tray and everything he ordered.
“Thank you, Corporal,” I say as he sets the tray down. He salutes, smiles, and leaves.
Dr. Tober pops his head from a tent, disappears back inside, then comes out carrying a sack. “Ah, good morning. I heard you talking. You can hear again?”
“Pretty well, yes. There's still some buzzing, but at least we can hear you today.”
“Ah, good, now pour out some of your beverages, please,” he orders as he removes a bottle of Napoleon Five Star Brandy from the sack. He pours a generous dollop in each cup, including the Major's cup, who frowns. Tober places a reassuring hand on Breckenridge's shoulder. “Oh, come on, Gregory. We're having a celebration here. You're part of a historical event. Sit, and drink with us.”
With a slight shrug, the Major sits down. His hair is white, but I doubt he's forty yet. He looks as if he weren't on duty; he could drink the whole bottle, with no visible effects. A very capable man.
Tober turns his enormous eyes towards me, the sun glinting off the lenses of his glasses. “Cecil briefed me on everything that happened here, and what you did to save his life. I think one thing is as remarkable, and incredible, as the other. He was able to hear by the time he awoke, so you must've fixed his ears as well.” Tober leans out, patting my knee.
“It's an amazing story, isn't it, Dr. Tober?” I ask him, after he removes his hand.
“Yes, Arthur, that's the word. Utterly, unbelievably amazing.” He pours more Brandy.
“Whooh,” Ruth exclaims after taking a sip. “I think I need some tea with this brandy.” We laugh. Sure feels good to see and hear laughter again.
I look at Breckenridge. “Why is Alpha Team here, Major?”
Tober answers. “The PM was going to order out the rest of the Marines, but when word spread about all the men who died here, and that you two, other than Dobie, were the only survivors, Alpha Team volunteered.”
In wonder, I study the Major. “After learning of all the men who died, you still ordered your men here?”
Clearing his throat, he looks away, embarrassed. “Uh, actually no, sir. I was on holiday. The rest of Alpha volunteered, to the man, then I was sent for. I agreed with them, and, uh, here we are, sir.”
Tober explains enthusiastically, “Using Alpha Team is perfect, Arthur. They have the highest clearance in the armed forces, and more highly trained than the Marines. And they seem to have a special affinity towards you after the airport incident.” He leans out and pours more brandy.
I look back at the Major. “I'm honored, Greg. Thank you and your men.”
“Sir, it's our pleasure. We look forward to, ah, working with you again.” He starts to salute.
I grip his hand halfway up, “Please, don't salute me, and call me Arthur.”
Smiling, he says, “Yes, sir. Are you hungry?” He waves at the Corporal and points. The Corporal gets busy.
The bacon I smelled earlier is actually an old military staple cleverly designed to remove the enjoyment from eating. Shit on the Shingles. Good old SOS. Yuck. But the baking powder biscuits taste good, so we eat away.
I glance at Greg with a frown. “I've hated SOS after my army days.”
“That's why you had two plates full, mister?” Ruth asks around another biscuit.
“I guess if you're hungry enough, you'll eat anything,” I admit with a shrug.
Greg leans towards me. “I'm sorry, sir. SOS contains all the nutrition you need. I'm afraid Alpha travels light in the field.”
“That's fine, Greg. I could use more of your coffee, Doctor.”
Ruth goes, “Unggh.”
“Quite, Arthur. Once more around, and we'll begin our plans.” He splashes more brandy in our cups.
“What's all the hardware for?” I ask Greg, pointing with my fork at the battleships in the bay.
“Well, officially, they're on Naval Maneuvers,” he replies. “Eleven more of those brutes are on the seaside. According to the latest Intel I received, three more Russian trawlers were spotted cruising around, twenty miles off, watching, and several more Russian ships are heading this way. Because they arrived so quickly, it seems they know more about the nuke sub than they led on to the PM, sir.”
“How much does Alpha know, Doctor?” I ask Tober.
“Uh, they've been briefed up-to-date on this incident. Greg was with Cecil when the PM was informed. They know everything I do, Arthur. We have a possible international incident here, and though we know now it wasn't a Rusky sub, how do we explain that to them?”
“We let the Russians stew while we do a thorough investigation,” Greg retorts vindictively, “and when we're ready, we release a cover story, to appease, but not pacify them.”
Carefully sipping my one-hundred proof coffee, I reflect on their political bullshit and the rest sure to follow, and nowhere in there–the truth. Did the world deserve to know the truth? How would people react? Would there be riots, mass hysteria? Before yesterday, I was just as ignorant, and I still don't know how I feel.
Greg interrupts my thoughts with mention of the cavern. Apparently, the Marines recovered all the bodies, then Greg's team found the hollow rock, even moving it to check for booby traps. Nothing. They left propane lanterns and torches waiting by the rock. “Sir, I respectfully request that some of my lads and I enter the tunnel first.”
“Ugh!” Ruth chokes on her tea again. “Oh, this tastes so good, Dr. Tober. Uh, Greg, please don't take any offense by this, but I think there's only one man qualified here.”
“Yes, ma'am, but Alpha is here to take chances, so you two don't have to,” Greg disagrees.
I listen to them argue for a few minutes. We lost hundreds of men for a discovery we weren't prepared for. What other surprises might be in store for us in the cavern? That's why I'm determined to be the first person inside
. No more men are going to be sacrificed for a bunch of political posturing. Besides, no matter how I feel about Major Breckenridge, or Tober, I can't help feeling they haven't earned the right to go first. But Ruth and I have. Oh yes, we have.
“Respectfully, Ma'am, Arthur, but if there are booby traps in the tunnel, you may not survive them.” Greg's still pushing his case.
So, Tober hasn't briefed Alpha about my force-field. And, of course, no one knows about Ruth's force-field but us two.
Ruth looks over at me. TAP –Should I tell them?-
*No, kid. You'll end up in a lab, being studied. You want that?*
-No!-
*Smart for a female.*
She swiftly kicks me. Tober and the Major jump, having no idea what's going on.
“It's okay, she gets this way sometimes,” I explain with a grin. “I'm sure you understand how women are?” She tries kicking me again, but I jerk my leg back.
“Uh, ahem, yes, quite, Arthur,” Tober says, glancing sideways at Ruth. She gives him the evil eye, and he shrinks into his chair.
I pat her head. “Down girl.”
She glowers at me. TAP-TAP- she goes.
*Oh no you don't,* I taunt. *You can't talk if I don't listen.*
Standing, staring daggers at me, she yells, “Fuck you, Mister.” Spinning around, she stamps off towards the trees. Along the beach men turn towards us, staring.
“Always has to have the last word,” I say loudly. No one laughs.
Tober leans forward, as if he's telling a secret. “Was that telepathy, Arthur?”
“Yes, Doc. But she's right. Just Ruth and I go in first. Then, your team, Major.”
They're starting to protest when a Sergeant rushes over, handing Greg a radio. “Sir, door team has reported in. They found a web of wires a few feet inside the tunnel entrance. The wires are so fine they're almost invisible, but they showed up on the scope. Electrified, sir.”
Greg's talking on the radio as I'm wishing Ruth would hurry and pee. I want to leave.
Greg lowers his radio. “Well, sir, looks as if none of us will be going. At least until we discover what the web is and how to disconnect it.”
“Order your men to get away from the opening,” I say, “far into the trees, Greg. Too many men have died already. I'll go in there myself.”
“And me,” Ruth pipes up behind me.
“Sir, we can't see the wires without the scope. I don't think going into the tunnel is wise.” His brows are creased with concern.
“Greg, anything your scope can see, I can see, and better. Now, get your men away from the opening.”
He starts to argue again, but Tober shakes NO. After a slight hesitation, the Major talks into his radio.
I gulp my coffee. Whew. It's really loaded. Ruth sort of accidentally spills her tea, then stares at the wet spot as if she expects it to eat into the fire-pit rock.
“Greg, we're going to teleport over there now. Make sure everyone's away, back to the trees.” He gives a curt nod.
Closing her eyes, Ruth tightly clasps my hand. I concentrate on the hollow rock and the small clearing, hoping we won't land in a tree, and BLIP! Perfect, right next to the rock.
“Ruth, fetch the scope from whoever has it.”
She heads to where a group of men are standing, with mouths hanging open. I suppose the first time you see someone pop out of thin air would be a shock. A man hands her what resembles a small CRT, with a coiled wire running from it, and a tube at the end of the wire. She gracefully thanks him and glides back. He stands frozen, mouth still agape.
I mentally probe the entryway, and feel the electric web, but the strands aren't wires. Threads, like very fine silk, almost like a giant spider web, all the way across the tunnel. Definitely made from a fabric I've never seen. The web is held to the walls by an unknown adhesive.
I can't locate any power source, yet, I feel the electrical power in the web. I mentally probe farther into the tunnel. There, behind it, another web. Then another. In fact, there are four webs. The first two webs are three feet apart, then the third web is only two and a half feet back, and the last web is only fourteen inches from the third web. And each web is smaller in circumference than the one in front of it.
Ruth is watching the scope, which shows blue and white colors. I'm seeing silver and brown. We're looking at a high intensity electrical charge, hanging there in the webs. Why doesn't the electrical charge jump to the rock wall?
“I'm going to teleport behind the webs, kid. Go back to the tree line and wait.”
“But Arthur…,” she protests with a frown.
“No buts, go.” I focus and BLIP! I appear five feet behind the last, and smallest of the webs.
Standing still, heart pounding in my ears, I take shallow breaths. Even to breathe makes the strands vibrate. I'm scared again; sweat starting to bead on my forehead. Whatever this contraption is came from another world. There's every reason to think the web can destroy me, force-field or not.
Tiny grains of sand are hopping below the bottom strands. The air is so arid in here my nose and throat dry up. Even the sweat on my forehead evaporates. Of course, super static electricity. The webs are arranged, like a transformer, to focus the electrical power outward.
I slowly step closer to the last web. In my rubber-soled tennis shoes, I should be safe. Drawing within two feet of the web, I notice the grains of sand begin jumping my way. Whoever designed this contraption isn't going to be foiled by a cheap pair of rubber-soled shoes. The web starts bowing towards me, vibrating. I stop midstep, holding my breath. If I'd been on the other side, where the charge is amplified, I undoubtedly would've discovered how well my force-field protected me against the charge. I quickly step back, and the web tightens again.
Whatever material the web is composed of, it collects, gathers, or generates static electricity, then stores the static electricity, as it amplifies it. And it doesn't release it, not even to the grounded walls, half an inch away. But if I get close enough, or touch the web, the effect would be like touching a million volt power line. Hell, I can feel the electricity flowing. There's enough juice in the web to power a whole house. Imagine that, electricity from a web of threads. I focus on the clearing, and BLIP!
“Okay, Alpha, find me a long tree branch,” I order as Ruth sprints to me. They begin searching around.
I explain the webs to Ruth, and my theory about the static charge. A captain comes over carrying a seven-foot long, dead branch.
“Everyone, step back again, and cover your eyes. There could be a pretty bright flash.” I push Ruth at the captain, and he leads her away with him.
Aiming for the top of the webs, wanting to diffuse all four of them, I javelin toss the branch. A loud KASASASAAPP blast pushes me back a few steps. Even with my eyes closed, I still saw the bright flash. Now, that's all I can see, and my eyes are still closed.
Hearing Ruth running towards me, I yell, “Stay back. Someone stick a bayonet in the ground over here, but keep away from me.”
The flash effects on my eyeballs are fading, but I still see it. And feel it. The static electricity's running all over me, my hairs snapping and crackling. My rubber-soled shoes kept me from being fried. Even at what? Ten feet or so? Amazing.
I can barely see the bayonet through the bright flashbulb effects behind my eyes as I stumble to it. The charge is running all over me as I bend and clasp the handle. KACACRACLLEPOP! Again, I see the white, bright blast through closed eyes. I straighten, holding the handle, which is burned off right at the blade.
“Sir, our scope showed a charge of more than six hundred thousand volts,” the Captain informs me. “It would've electrocuted us all, if we'd been standing too close. Mother of God.”
I smile at Ruth. “Ahh. That was better than sex, kid.”
Ruth smirks at me and whispers, “And you're a bloody liar, sir.” She reaches out, probably to pat my arm, and KAZZAPT. She leaps backwards, mouth open in pain.
“I saved that just for y
ou, ma'am,” I tease, as she shakes her hand.
She glares at me, saying, “Asshole. That hurt.” No whispering this time.
Staying a good six feet away from me, the Captain asks, “How do the webs work?”
“I don't know,” I tell him, “but I guarantee they do. Right, kid?”
TAP –Fuck you,- then aloud she says, “Yes, for damn sure, they work.”
Leaning for the burned off blade buried in the ground, as I touch it, the blade gives off a few snaps, and tiny sizzles.
Ruth asks me, “Damn, doesn't the electrical charge dissipate? Uh, did you see anything in the tunnel?”
“No, kid. All I could feel was an impression of a large room and running water. Sorry.”
What I don't mention was the urge, like a pulling at me, to leave the webs and go on alone. The urge was very strong, but there's no way I'm going to do that. I sit on the ground, waiting for the flashes to clear from my retinas.
“Arthur, do you think they knew the webs would kill us?” Ruth asks, biting her lower lip.
“I don't think they cared, kid. The webs were probably set so they could pack up and not have to guard the entryway. If we'd hit the webs before they left, we wouldn't have tried again, at least not before daylight, and they would've been long gone by then anyway.”
“I could tell you were afraid of them. Well, maybe just leery. The only other time I've seen you look afraid, was at the Lodge, when you were standing at the railing. Do you think there are any more webs?” She pats my hand.
“Grab two of those flashlights and let's go find out. I think I can see well enough now.” I pat her hand back, then help her up.
Either Greg told his men to stay in the trees, no matter what happened, or our appearing out of thin air, or me popping in-and-out, plus the blast from the webs might've caused them to be cautious. None of the men will move far from a tree they can hide behind. Only the Captain's out in the open with us, and I can tell he doesn't want to be, he keeps nervously eyeing the tunnel entrance.
“Sir, Major Breckenridge and Dr. Tober are on their way. Don't you think you should wait for them?”
