Invasion

by Jon S. Lewis

  : : CHAPTER 37 : :

  From the corner of his eye Colt glimpsed someone walking toward them. He turned to see Mercedes Castro.

  “Mr. Hyde will see you now,” she said.

  They followed Mercedes down a spiral staircase that had been roped off. It led down to a private suite where Basil stood alone, watching out the glass wall as the tank was lowered back into the ground.

  “Amazing, isn’t it?” he asked without looking at anyone in particular. “I mean, who would have thought that a boy like me, born to a drunken father who left when I was in infant, and a mother who worked three jobs, would have become anything more than a common criminal? Yet here we are.”

  “Thanks for inviting us,” Oz said. “We really appreciate it.”

  Basil turned from the window holding a tumbler with a honey-colored liquid chilling on ice. Then he looked at Colt. “So tell me,” Basil said. “What is it you want to know?”

  Colt hesitated. He looked at Oz and then Danielle.

  “That’s why you came, no?” Basil asked. “You’re looking for information.”

  Colt swallowed. “Someone told us that my parents were murdered by someone working for Trident Industries.”

  “Yes, I was sorry to hear that. Do you know why?”

  “My mom was writing an article about a mind-control program they’re running at Trident Biotech, so they killed her before it went to press.”

  “That wouldn’t surprise me,” Basil said with a nod. “Tell me what you know about Trident Industries.”

  “I’m not sure,” Colt said. He hadn’t expected a pop quiz. “I guess they’re one of the largest companies in the world, and they operate out of four main divisions: Trident Defense, Trident Technology, Trident Capital, and Trident Healthcare Systems.”

  “What else?”

  “They partnered with the Nazis during World War II,” Danielle said.

  “Now we’re getting somewhere,” Basil said, “though I’m afraid it was more than a partnership. The men that ran Trident weren’t just Nazi sympathizers. They breathed life into the Nazi movement.”

  “How?”

  “What if I told you that the board of directors at Trident Industries weren’t human? Would that surprise you?”

  “Not anymore.”

  The crowd outside grew raucous as the announcer started to introduce the final combatants of the night. Colt risked a glance to see an enormous creature with red skin covered in tattoos step into the ring. He had a massive set of horns that shot forward before curling back and an enormous gold belt around his waist proclaiming that he was the heavyweight champion of the twelve worlds.

  “Are you a fan of Zandarr?” Basil asked.

  “Oh, sorry,” Colt said. He looked at Basil for a moment, but his eyes kept falling back to the spectacle in the ring. “He’s a beast. Has anybody ever beat him?”

  “Believe it or not, Zandarr lost his first match,” Basil said, “but he’s won ninety-seven in a row since then.”

  “Wait, are those logos tattooed on his chest?” Colt asked.

  “Along with his arms, neck, back, and just about everywhere else,” Oz said. “The guy is a walking billboard.”

  “Zandarr is not only the best fighter that we’ve ever had,” Basil said. “He’s a savvy businessman. In fact, last year he purchased a minority stake in the IGFL.”

  “What’s that?” Danielle asked.

  “The Intergalactic Fighting League,” Oz and Colt said at the same time.

  As Zandarr’s opponent stepped into the ring, there was more applause, but it was mixed with a smattering of boos. The behemoth had a large belly, but his massive chest and shoulders were taut over his cablelike muscles. Mechanical claws with four pinchers had replaced his hands all the way up to his forearms. There were strange iron shields fused to each jaw, along with what looked like exhaust pipes that led from the skin in his neck to his back.

  “This should be a good match,” Basil said as he joined Oz at the window. “Borog hasn’t lost yet, and he has a mean streak to boot. Do you see those patterns on his chest and shoulders?”

  Oz nodded.

  “Those are tribal markings,” Basil said. “They aren’t tattooed or branded either. Those were carved into his skin with a knife.”

  The music stopped playing as the referee went over the rules in the center of the ring. The fighters stared at one another. Zandarr was a bit taller, but not by much. Neither looked intimidated by the other as the house lights went up.

  The bell sounded, and the fight was underway. Borog didn’t waste time. He lashed out at the champion with one of his clawed hands. Zandarr’s head snapped to the right before he staggered back. The crowd cheered and Zandarr smiled as blood poured from the fresh cut on his cheek. He tilted his head to the left and then the right, popping his neck as he stretched. Then he started bouncing up and down.

  Borog struck again, but this time Zandarr stepped to the side. He grabbed Borog’s outstretched arm before bringing his knee to Borog’s elbow. The sound of bone snapping echoed through the arena. The crowd gasped collectively, but Borog didn’t stop despite the injury. He wheeled around and struck Zandarr with a back fist, gashing the red behemoth again. Everyone in the arena cheered in appreciation as Zandarr fell into the ropes.

  Borog turned to the crowd with a fist raised triumphantly while his broken arm hung uselessly to the side. There were no more jeers. Thousands were chanting his name in unison, which only seemed to infuriate Zandarr. He regained his footing and charged, wrapping his massive arms around Borog’s wide midsection before tackling the heavier fighter. The momentum sent them both flying into the ropes, and when they finally untangled, Zandarr had Borog in a choke hold.

  Colt was distracted by the fervor, but if Basil noticed he was kind enough not to mention it. “Tell me something,” he said to Colt, who tried to focus his attention on the debonair man. “What are you after? Revenge? Justice?”

  “I want whoever killed my parents to pay for what they did,” Colt said. Then he paused, searching for the right words. “And I don’t want anyone else to have to go through this.”

  “It won’t be easy,” Basil said. “In fact, it may be impossible.”

  “That doesn’t matter. We have to try.”

  “I told you he was determined,” Oz said, though his eyes never left the ring.

  “You’re familiar with the twelve gateways?” Basil asked.

  “I think so,” Colt said.

  “Around the turn of the century, a team of archaeologists found what they thought were the remains of a lost civilization. There were pictographs of strange creatures that looked like walking lizards, and later they found skeletons that matched. Each had six arms and long skulls almost like an American football.”

  “The Thule?”

  “Very good,” Basil said. “As archaeologists are wont to do, they kept digging. Eventually they found a cave that took them to a strange jungle where prehistoric animals roamed.”

  “Like that book, Lost World?”

  “Something like that, yes,” Basil said. “Now these gentlemen in Greece believed that they had found their own lost world. In a manner of speaking, I suppose they did, but it was much more. What they had stumbled upon was a gateway to another planet . . . one so far away that we could never reach it by spacecraft.”

  “Why aren’t there any books about it?” Danielle asked.

  “That’s a fair question,” Basil said as the crowd cheered. Zandarr had thrown Borog over the top rope, and he was following him to the floor. “A team of seven men crossed over, but only one returned, and he didn’t live long to tell his tale. He had a camera filled with photographs of the bizarre land, yet even after they were printed, no one believed the images were real. After all, there were no dinosaurs or lizard men among the living. Such an idea was preposterous.”

  “Wait, I’ve seen those photos online,” Colt said. “Those are real?”

  “I believe so, yes,” Basil said. �
�You see, not long after that, people started seeing what they thought were aliens skulking about places like Athens, London, Tokyo, and New York City. There were even reports that the Americans had caught one of the strange lizard men, and that it could morph into virtually any human shape at will.”

  “Look at this!” Oz said as he started jumping up and down in excitement.

  Zandarr rushed across the ring. His head was lowered and his horns shining under the lights as he crashed into Borog. The air rushed out of Borog’s lungs as the fat that padded his stomach rolled in waves under the impact. He left his feet, flying backward into ropes that somehow held, acting as a slingshot before they hurtled Borog back toward Zandarr.

  Everyone in the arena was cheering as Zandarr sidestepped. Then he reached out with his arm, wrapping it around Borog’s thick neck. Within seconds, Borog was choked out. Zandarr threw his head back and roared. His eyes were crazed as he let Borog’s unconscious body fall to the mat.

  : : CHAPTER 38 : :

  That was amazing!” Oz shouted, his exuberance matching the crowd as everyone in the arena continued to cheer.

  Basil was smiling as he joined Oz at the window, but Colt didn’t get up from his seat at the table. “I think we gave them their money’s worth tonight,” Basil said.

  Colt turned back to look at Mercedes, who was standing next to the spiral staircase, her eyes locked on his. She was smaller than Danielle, but there was something about the way she carried herself that made Colt wonder how well she’d fare in the arena— and he had a feeling she could hold her own and then some.

  When he turned back around, Basil offered him a drink.

  “Come, toast with me to a fabulous evening,” Basil said, but Colt simply looked at the glass that Basil was holding. Basil’s eyes narrowed, though only for a moment. Then his smile returned. “There’s no alcohol, I assure you.”

  Behind Basil, Oz was glaring at Colt. Then his eyes opened wide and his head bent forward as though he was directing Colt to take the glass.

  “There we are,” Basil said, raising his own glass as Colt followed. Oz and Danielle did the same. “To a glorious evening of fighting, food, and friends, both new,” he said, motioning to Colt, “and old,” he added, nodding toward Oz. “May there be many more in our future.”

  “I’ll drink to that,” Oz said, tilting his glass back. He finished the contents in three large gulps and then licked his lips.

  A robotic servant came by to remove the empty glasses, though Colt barely sipped his drink. He was trying to look as enthusiastic as Oz, but Colt knew he wasn’t doing a good job. He was too distracted by thoughts of his parents, Trident Industries, and the Thule.

  Basil placed his empty glass on the robot’s tray as he regarded Colt. “I’m being rude,” he said, his voice pleasant before he walked back over to take a seat across from Colt. “We were talking about the Thule, were we not?”

  Colt nodded. “It’s just like the comic book, right? I mean, the planet where the Thule lived was dying, so when those archaeologists reopened the gateway, the Thule were going to cross over to destroy us. That way they could take Earth as their home.”

  “That was their plan,” Basil said. “Thanks to Nikola Tesla and some other scientists, we found a way to close the gateway, but there was no telling how many of the Thule had already crossed over. We think most settled in Germany, where they were plotting to open another door back to their world.”

  “There’re other doorways, though, right?” Colt asked.

  “Indeed,” Basil said. “Most have been closed, but some remain intact. CHAOS agents keep them under lock and key.”

  “Not all of them,” Oz said.

  “I suppose you’re right,” Basil said. “You see, there are soft spots all over the world—places where the fabric that separates our planet from others has started to weaken. CHAOS has teams whose sole purpose is to discover those weak points and stitch them back together, but they can’t possibly find them all. So things slip through from time to time.”

  “Like Yetis and Bigfoot?” Colt asked.

  “Perhaps,” Basil said. “Which brings me back to our friends at Trident Industries. You see, it’s my belief that their board of directors is composed of members of the Thule who failed to destroy us during World War II. Now, instead of open warfare, they have slowly built their political capital and financial strength to the point where they are one of the most powerful entities in the world. It was a brilliatn strategy, really.”

  “What do they want?” Colt asked.

  “To open a floodgate between our world and theirs so their armies can cross over to eradicate mankind. They want our planet.”

  “How are they going to get through if we shut down the gateway to Gathmara?” Colt asked.

  “Trident didn’t choose the locations of their corporate campuses based on the price of land or the quality of the community. They chose them because they’ve found weak spots that they believe will open up to their world.”

  “Why hasn’t CHAOS shut them down?” Colt asked.

  “It’s not that simple,” Oz said.

  “How true,” Basil said. “The Trident board of directors is cunning. They’ve allied themselves with powerful political figures from around the world, including the president of the United States. They’re well protected.”

  “Isn’t there enough evidence so it wouldn’t matter?”

  “I believe there is some, but not enough,” Basil said. “You have to remember that the politics in Washington aren’t always based on evidence, much less what’s good for the people of your fine country. No, I’m afraid that at the moment, Trident is well-fortified against attack.”

  “What if we could prove the biochips they produce allow them to control people like puppets?” Danielle asked. “If word of that got out, their stock value would take a big hit. I mean, their power is based on financial strength, right?”

  “You’re a cunning one, aren’t you?” Basil said. “I like that.”

  “Is she right?” Colt asked.

  “Perhaps.”

  “So can you help us?”

  “There may be something I can do—after all, Trident may be watching us, but I have an eye on them as well. Still, I need to consider the cost,” Basil said. “Going up against the most powerful corporation in the world is never good for business. Then again, if the Thule start wiping out entire planets, I won’t have any customers left, will I?”

  After all the excitement with Basil Hyde and the Intergalactic Fighting League, Colt nearly forgot about Lily’s party the next day. Oz had given him a username and password to watch old matches online . . . and that’s what he was doing when Danielle called.

  “We’re running behind, but we should be there in about an hour,” she said. “I need to stop by the mall and get a new pair of shoes first.”

  Colt had that sick feeling that always showed up when he’d forgotten something important.

  “Don’t tell me you forgot,” Danielle said after a long silence.

  “I didn’t forget,” Colt said. “I just got sidetracked.”

  “Hurry up, okay?”

  After a quick shower, Colt tried on five different shirts before he settled on the first one that he had picked. His hair was still damp when Oz and Danielle showed up. “I’ll see you later, Grandpa,” he said before dashing out the front door.

  Danielle was sitting in the front seat wearing a black dress and matching sweater. Her hair hung around her face, and she was wearing more makeup than usual. Oz was dressed up as well—at least for Oz. He wore a black button-up shirt, jeans, and a pair of shiny square-toed shoes.

  “Don’t you look nice,” Danielle said.

  “Is it too much?” Colt asked. “My grandpa told me to put the jacket on.”

  “It’s perfect,” Danielle said.

  To offset the fact that he was wearing a sport coat, Colt decided not to tuck in his shirt. He was also wearing his favorite pair of blue jeans. They were starting
to fray around the cuff, but he didn’t want to look like he was trying too hard to impress anyone.

  “Flip-flops and a sport coat?” Oz asked when he saw Colt’s shoes.

  “Leave him alone,” Danielle said. “He looks fine.”

  “I’m going to buy you some cowboy boots for your birthday,” Oz said.

  “Wait, were we supposed to bring a gift?” Colt asked as he slid into the backseat next to two brightly wrapped packages.

  “Are you serious?” Danielle asked.

  “Yeah.”

  “It’s Lily’s adoption day party.”

  “Lily was adopted?”

  “You might want to do a little more research before you decide to stalk someone, McAlister,” Oz said.

  Colt asked Oz to pull into a drugstore on the way. If nothing else, he wanted to at least get her a card. Danielle suggested flowers, but that wasn’t going to happen—especially since Graham was going to be there.

  “It took you long enough,” Oz said after Colt returned with a bag in his hand. “How long does it take to get a card?”

  “About thirty seconds,” Colt said. “Finding a gift was the hard part.”

  “What did you get her, nail polish remover?” Danielle asked.

  “How did you know?”

  : : CHAPTER 39 : :

  Lily lived in a gated community on a golf course. The one-story house was elegant, but not ostentatious, with a circular front drive that ran under a portico. The palm trees in the front yard were wrapped in white lights, and the stucco exterior was accented with stonework.

  “Nice place,” Oz said as he parked in the street in front of the house. “What does her dad do?”

  “He’s an emergency physician,” Danielle said, “but I think he owns a chain of urgent care facilities.”

  “Not bad.”

  Everyone got out of the Jeep except for Colt, who was staring at the dashboard.

  “Are you coming, or what?” Oz asked.