by Chris Troman
he turned over towards the windscreen. Staring back were two yellow slits of eyes, strong with hate. With a start he was on his feet in an instant, and he grabbed the nearest object to hand, the portable mediscan. Like a caveman ready to fend off the unknown, Marvin’s race memory kicked in; and he shouted to Todd.
Roused from his slumbers, Todd saw Marvin stood erect first. Then following his line of sight, he too saw the eyes and fell off his chair into a tangle of arms and legs on the floor. But the next moment he too was up. "Do you think it's dangerous?" Todd whispered to the other man. "That's toughened plexi glass, should be alright." But there was an underlying tone of uncertainty in Marvin's voice. Then just as it had appeared the eyes blinked shut, and the two men were left alone panting from the shock.
"We had better keep a watch from now on" suggested Marvin, and Todd nodded. "I'll take the fist couple of hours." So an uneasy Marvin settled down again, while Todd paced back and forth ever watchful of the screen. "Wake up", Todd was poking him in the ribs. "Was up?" slurred the half awake pilot. "Time for your watch, nothing to report but a sore back." And he lay down in the reclined chair next to Marvin. Fully awake, Marvin slid off his chair and approached the screen. It was still murky out there.
They must be at some depth, but even so he expected some light from the surface, unless dawn was late. He checked his watch and the charts on the computer screen. Perhaps there was some sort of weed growing on the surface. That would explain it.
There was a sudden bang on the screen, and looking up Marvin saw those eyes again. But now it had arms holding a rock, which was currently banging on the screen. "Todd we'd better clear out." He shook the recumbent figure awake again. They grabbed anything important. And with the portable emergency beacon under his arm, Marvin stepped through the door and it slid shut.
"Over ride command Marvin seven delta b, lock." The bolts slid into place making it secure. "Do you really think it could get through?" asked Todd from down the corridor. "I don't know, but the sooner we're on dry land the better." Marvin strode towards him. "Let's get some water proof bags for these."
Suited up they stood at the air lock door. "When we are out pull this cord, but not before." Marvin tuned his helmet radio to the frequency of the control room. As the chamber they were in slowly filled not with the vacuum of space, but the liquid surrounding the craft. "What if it's acidic?" Todd’s panicked voice suddenly cut in. "I guess it's a chance we've got to take." Marvin grabbed Todd by the shoulders, then he heard the noise he was waiting for. Through his earpiece came the scraping noise of a crack, as it flew across a sheet of glass. Followed by the whoosh of water.
The screen had finally given way, and this was just the distraction they needed. Marvin punched the hull door open button, and shoved his co pilot out. There was a sudden blur of movement as Todd pulled the cord, and the life raft inflated. It dragged the two men strait up, with their bags in tow.
Looking down Marvin saw his craft getting smaller, and also the figures emerging from the front. Then they burst through the surface. It was still twilight before the dawn, and in the adrenalin of the moment the suited figures heaved their bags over the side, and into the raft. But try as they might, they could not drag them selves in. The unwieldy suits were too heavy. "Kick like you life depended on it" howled Todd. Then they began to push the craft towards what they hoped was shore. Marvin was ever aware of those figures perusing them.
Then with a bump the little craft hit something, and filled with fresh hope Marvin's feet touched solid ground. Grunting with strain they shoved the vital equipment up on to dry land. But yet again their suits were too cumbersome. Marvin ripped his helmet off, and regretted it instantly.
As water started to slop in, it weighed the suit down. But fear and terror pushed him on. So pulling off the rest, unclipping and unzipping he was finally free of the now useless suit. Marvin dragged himself up the slope, and then he raised his head shakily. Turning round he realised Todd was not there. Diving up he instantly saw his shipmate still struggling in the water, as Marvin dove for the edge. But before he could reach out slimy green arms came over Todd's shoulder. And Marvin saw the horror in his buddy's eyes, as he was pulled back down. Todd's muted scream cut off, as he sank beneath the surface.
There was nothing Marvin could do. He knew that and it was only shock of this fact, which kept him prone on the ground. Oblivious to the fact that if these creatures could leave the confines of the water, he too would be powerless to stop himself being dragged to his watery grave.
Marvin rolled over and sobbed like a child. Finally the first rays of sunlight raced like spears over the land. And Marvin rose, muted and like an automaton to set up the beacon.
"If only he'd stayed in the water to help Todd from his suit." "Then they would both be in the water when the fiends came." A voice from the back of his mind replied; with the resolve to live and get back home. Marvin stood, and dragged the dingy away from the waters edge. If they could come out, he was sure he would be drowned now. But he was not taking any chances.
He opened the ration pack and consumed it, not out of hunger but from an animal instinct to survive. Then he loaded up what he could carry, along with the beacon. Marvin headed along the arm that stretched between the two coasts. He glanced occasionally across at its twin, for any signs on the water between. If any rescue party were to land, it would not be on this thin strip of land.
By mid morning he flopped down, glad to be free of the accursed lake. And he lay down in the shade of some new breed of tree. The exhausted pilot heard a low growl, and opening his eyes he came face to face with a slavering set of teeth, below two hatful eyes. "Go on do it", he barked past caring. And Marvin closed his eyes, in preparation for the inevitable end.
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General Mufon approached the panting body of the soldier, as he lay on the forest floor. This A one specimen of a fine marine, now a broken husk sobbing like a child. "Pull yourself together soldier,” the General barked. He played his torch around the surrounding area. "This section all clear sir,” reported the plucky lieutenant who had just arrived. Then he gasped at the general’s find. "It's alright Venchenski. Get a couple of men with a stretcher, and take this soldier back to base." Then General Mufon turned on his heels, and marched off to his command jeep.
Tonight’s report would be on his desk by O seven hundred hours. The General ran a tight ship, and his men knew it. When he took over project Blue Book, he'd had to shake down the whole operation. The General brought it in line, but now he had a fine body of men and women who could be relied on. Of course they weren't called Blue Book any more. Not only was the operation frowned on in these times of austerity, but also few people believed in the cause these days. So while the official line was that they were disbanded, they had actually become one of the C.I.A.'s black opps. Someone obviously needed their unique skills, or just thought the resource they represented was too valuable to let go.
Back at the base the general went through his ablutions, then got his eight hours sleep before the morning paper work would call. He sat at his desk at seven reading the report. "Private Wendley went missing October third nineteen ninety-seven, from Benson air base Arizona. Then he was found February second nineteen ninety-eight, in Coconino forest Arizona. A medical shows no physical change to the body, and no devices have been surgically implanted. The private has no memory of the missing time. My recommendation is to return private Wendley to active service, after a thorough debriefing."
"Thorough debriefing" thought the general. "Yes a full examination of the privates psyche, to see if he's been brain washed or something. He'd get a bank of tests both psychological and hypnotic, to stretch that mind until it either snaps back in to shape. Or cracks like an egg shell, to reveal an alien plan inside." The General had seen the reports; people went missing all the time. Lots of people disappeared, but never enough to impact on the populace. The public just put it down to earthly crime, or just plain wanting to be lost.
; So when the odd one came back, they were worth studying. Why were they returned and not the others? What made them so special? All this time, and they still couldn't solve the puzzle. It was like a jigsaw with most of the pieces missing. The General cogitated and ate his breakfast; newly arrived at O seven thirty. Bang on time.
Eight O clock sharp and he was in the morning meeting room. "Any progress on private Wendley’s psych tests?" he inquire of the staff psychologist captain Peters. "Yes sir under hypnosis he keeps repeating, back in the woods tonight we'll shine. But when I wake him he doesn't remember a thing." The general pondered this. "Hmm, perhaps we need to take another look at that spot we found him. It could be a clue at last." Turning to lieutenant Venchenski. "Detail me a squad for fifteen thirty hours. I think this could be it", and rising the General nodded to the now standing soldiers, and left.
At the appointed time the army truck full of the best of the best, rolled through the base gates. It followed the jeep general Mufon rode in. "When we arrive at map coordinates 437 627 I want a perimeter spread. So every man can see the next." The General informed the lieutenant, as the other kept a watchful eye on the road.
