Alien Storm

by A. G. Taylor

  Makarov raised his hand and called out, “Computer, release on my mark!”

  As he lowered his hand, a clay disc the size of a plate flew out of a slot in the spinning cylinder at high speed. It shot across the court towards Ilya. The Russian boy was expecting the projectile, however, and threw out his hand. The disc stopped and hung suspended in the air about a metre from his head, completely under the control of the boy’s mind. On the other side of the court, Octavio watched in fascination as Ilya drew back his arm and punched his fist forward in a violent motion. Although no physical contact was made with the disc, it flew across the court at high speed towards Octavio.

  “Watch out!” Nestor yelled as the missile hurtled towards his brother.

  At the last possible moment, Octavio raised his hands and projected a shield. As the disc hit the invisible barrier, it exploded in a puff of white clay. Octavio staggered back as shards from the disc flew around him. On the viewing platform, Makarov clapped his hands together and gave a childish laugh of excitement.

  “Excellent start!” he exclaimed as a second disc was spat from the cylinder in a random direction across the court. This time it headed straight for the wall, but Ilya pointed a finger at the missile and swept his arm towards his still-stunned opponent. The disc whipped round at frightening speed and Octavio had no choice but to throw himself behind one of the metal shields dotted around the court. As the disc smashed against the barrier, a mighty clang echoed around the area.

  Another disc ejected the cylinder and Ilya sent it flying against the shield even faster and harder, followed by another and another. Trapped, Octavio ducked and covered his ears against the clanging of the discs against the metal.

  Makarov shook his head sadly. “This isn’t much sport for Ilya, I’m afraid.” He touched the communicator again. “Computer, increase the disc firing rate to medium.”

  Immediately the discs began to fly from the cylinder at the rate of one every four seconds. Each disc was mentally snatched from the air by Ilya and sent flying towards Octavio’s hiding place. Behind the barrier, the Colombian boy was beginning to resemble a plaster statue, so thoroughly covered was he with clay powder from the exploded discs. He looked up desperately at the others, watching from above.

  What do I do? he thought desperately to Nestor, who was watching from above with concern.

  Louise answered for him. Get out there and fight like you mean it!

  Spurred on by her words, Octavio threw himself out of cover as another disc ejected from the cylinder, heading straight for him. He held out his right hand, stopped the disc in mid-air and pushed his palm forwards. The disc flew towards Ilya’s head. The Russian boy casually leaned to one side and the disc shattered against the wall behind him.

  Keep it up! Nestor encouraged his brother, who had already snatched a second disc from the air and sent it flying across the court into the blue zone. The disc came closer to Ilya this time and the Russian had to throw up a shield to stop it from hitting him in the chest. As the disc exploded, Octavio pushed another in his direction as it ejected from the cylinder. Ilya had anticipated the move, however, and held out his hand as the missile approached. The disc slowed enough for him to catch it in his hand. Ilya twirled the disc on his index finger as he walked forward to the edge of the blue zone.

  He’s too good! Octavio thought with a little awe as he backed away. Ilya was starting to spin the disc ever faster, creating a humming sound that filled the air as it picked up speed. With a lightning fast motion, Ilya threw out his arm and the missile flew forwards. Octavio had to hurl himself back to avoid it. The disc smashed against the wall centimetres from his head.

  “Excellent,” Makarov breathed as he touched the communicator again. “Computer, fast release.”

  As the discs started to fly out at the rate of one every couple of seconds, Ilya was free to pluck each one from the air with his mind power and send them hurtling towards Octavio, who had no option but to cower against the wall as they exploded around him. Ilya was clearly aiming around him, but the discs seemed to be hitting closer and closer.

  “That’s enough,” Sarah said to Makarov, but the Russian didn’t seem to hear her – so intent was he on the spectacle below.

  “Make him stop!” Octavio yelled out as another disc smashed into the wall beside his head.

  Sarah moved towards Makarov and grabbed his arm, pulling him round. “I said, that’s enough!”

  He waited a second, before speaking leisurely into the communicator. “Computer, stop.”

  Immediately the sound of discs hitting the wall ceased as the cylinder slid back into the floor. Nestor flew down the stairs towards the entrance to the court. Sarah and the others looked down to where Octavio was huddled, unmoving. On the other side of the room, Ilya stood impassively, showing no excitement at his victory. Nestor ran down the steps of the viewing platform.

  “What kind of game do you call that?” Sarah demanded, rounding on Makarov again. “He could have been hurt.”

  “You are all just beginning to realize the full potential of your powers,” he replied, speaking to the entire group as much as to her. “The only way for you to get stronger is to be pushed, as I’m sure you’ve learned from the battles you’ve fought already.”

  In the room below, Nestor crossed to where Octavio was still huddled. “Are you okay?” he asked with concern as he helped his brother to his feet.

  “Fine,” Octavio muttered, brushing the clay dust from his body. “I think I twisted my ankle.”

  “Let me help you.”

  As they moved towards the exit, someone else entered the court – Louise.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” Nestor asked as she walked onto the court, but Louise looked only at Ilya, waiting motionless in the blue zone.

  I want to have a go at this game, she announced.

  Above, Makarov looked questioningly at Sarah, as if asking her permission. “Well, well. It seems I’m not the only one around here who likes games to be a little… challenging.”

  Sarah looked down at the younger girl, who met her gaze with determination in her eyes.

  “Do it,” Sarah said and Makarov clapped his hands.

  “Computer, a hundred discs.”

  As the cylinder rose from the floor again, Octavio limped past Louise with his arm around Nestor’s shoulder for support.

  Take his head off, he said as they exited the court.

  Makarov brought his hand down. “Computer, release!”

  The first disc flew from the cylinder and was caught in mid-flight by Ilya. As he moved to send it in Louise’s direction, she threw out both her hands and it exploded right in front of him, showing him with fragments. Taking advantage of Ilya’s surprise, she snatched up the next disc when it was barely out of the cylinder and sent it arcing towards him. Ilya destroyed it less than a metre from his head.

  On the viewing platform, Makarov moved closer to the edge and looked down, a flicker of annoyance passing over his face as Ilya staggered back.

  “Bit more of a challenge for your boy?” Sarah asked with a smile as Louise sent two more discs flying into the blue zone.

  “Defeat her!” Makarov yelled down to the court, his voice suddenly a rasp. “Computer, maximum speed!”

  The discs began to whip out of the cylinder at an alarming rate. Louise and Ilya wheeled their arms frantically, picking missiles from the air and sending them across the court, whilst simultaneously blocking ones coming at them. From the viewing platform, the others watched wide-eyed as dozens of discs flew back and forth across the court, creating a dizzying blur of motion, punctuated by explosions of clay. Makarov leaned against the rail and let out a heavy breath. Sarah tore her eyes away from the action below for a second and saw that his eyes were narrowed and his face lined with effort – almost as if he were involved in the battle.

  “What’s she doing?” Robert cried out.

  Sarah looked round and saw that Louise had dropped her hands to her side
and closed her eyes. On the other side of the court, Ilya sent a wave of missiles directly at her. The discs did not reach their target, however. As they approached the girl, they changed course and spun around her, beginning to orbit her body as if caught up in some kind of gravitational pull. Within a few seconds there were at least twenty discs circling Louise, gradually picking up speed. The cylinder in the centre of the court had dispensed its last missile, so Ilya lowered his hands and stood, watching the discs fly around Louise.

  Then the girl’s eyes snapped open. You’d better duck.

  One of the orbiting discs flew out at amazing speed, hurtled across the court and hit the ground at Ilya’s feet, driving him back. Another followed, pushing him back further. And another. And another. As his back hit the wall, Louise started throwing discs towards him like bullets from a machine gun, peppering the area around him with broken shards of clay. The Russian boy had no option other than to crouch down with his hands over his head.

  “Stop!” he cried. “You win!”

  The remaining discs clattered to the floor. Louise stood triumphant in the red zone. Waving to the cheering members of her group, she walked across the court and extended a hand to her crouching opponent.

  “It’s okay,” she said. “You can get up now. I’m finished.”

  Ilya raised his head, blinking the dust from his eyes and stood uncertainly. A cut from one of the flying shards was starting to bleed on his right cheek. Blinking in confusion, the boy touched his face with his fingertips and looked down at the red liquid on them.

  “My blood,” he murmured, shaking his head.

  “It’s just a scratch,” Louise said, but she could see from the look in the boy’s eyes that he was completely confused. The blank assuredness from earlier had gone completely. “Are you okay, Ilya?”

  He looked at her. “Where am I?”

  “Get away from him!” Makarov snapped, half-running across the court. He pushed Louise to one side and bent over the boy.

  Ilya began to ask something else, but Makarov held a hand in front of his face.

  “Enough,” Makarov said softly. The boy’s eyes went instantly blank again.

  “What’s wrong with him?” Louise asked as Sarah and the others approached across the room.

  Makarov chuckled, trying to make light of it. “Ilya’s a big baby. Afraid of the sight of a little blood. Go back to your quarters and get a plaster.”

  Ilya obeyed silently, walking wordlessly through the other children. Sarah and Louise exchanged a look, but said nothing.

  “What an amazing demonstration,” Makarov went on, turning his attention to Louise. “I thought Ilya was unbeatable, but it seems we have a new champion.”

  “Yeah, you did good,” Octavio said unexpectedly. “The thing with the discs spinning around you was cool.”

  Louise shrugged. “I can show you how to do it sometime.”

  Octavio nodded and looked at his feet. Sarah gave Louise a wink, but then turned her attention to Makarov. The man looked as if he had aged twenty years in twenty minutes – his skin had lost its lustre and his entire body, tall and strong before, seemed suddenly frail. Makarov seemed to sense her scrutiny, because he pulled himself a little taller and started back across the court.

  “Hey!” Sarah called after him. “What about the virus research you promised to show us?”

  “Forgive me, but I grow tired,” Makarov said over his shoulder. “A side-effect of my enhanced powers. I must leave you until the dawn. Remember, my home is yours.”

  With that, he left the court. Louise looked at Sarah and Alex in surprise.

  “He’s going to bed?” she asked. “It’s like, only three o’clock.”

  Sarah moved forwards and went through the door after him. She still had plenty of questions to ask their host, and she wasn’t going to let him run out on them that easily. However, outside the room he was nowhere to be seen. She ran round the side of the court. Makarov had vanished into thin air.

  “Looks like we’re on our own again until the morning,” Alex said, appearing at her side.

  Sarah nodded. “It’s time to find out what’s happening below the 90th floor.”

  21

  Sitting on the grass of the open area on the 153rd floor, they held a council of war.

  “Okay,” said Nestor, who was chairing the discussion, “let’s try to list good things about our present situation.”

  “Nobody’s trying to kill us,” Alex suggested with a grin.

  “At the moment,” Sarah said under her breath.

  “This place is warm and dry,” Octavio said. “Which is more than can be said for our last apartment.”

  “Food is good,” Louise added.

  “Food is great,” Wei corrected. “And the swimming pool. And the computers. And the games stuff…”

  “Okay, okay,” Nestor said, holding up a hand to stop the endless list. “Things we don’t like.”

  “Makarov’s story about the Tunguska meteorite doesn’t make sense,” Sarah said firmly. “If he was really there when it happened he would have to be over a hundred years old.”

  “The vision he showed us felt real enough,” Nestor replied. “But did you see him this afternoon? He looked a hundred years old.”

  “Whatever,” Sarah said dismissively, “his story stinks.”

  Nestor nodded. “Others?”

  “The workers are creepy,” Louise said. “And that Ilya kid was just like them. As if he was sleepwalking. When I hurt him in the game, he seemed to change, but then Makarov got to him.”

  “Anything else?”

  “His idea of skills training isn’t fun,” Octavio said, rubbing his ankle.

  Louise giggled. “Speak for yourself.”

  “And?” Nestor went on.

  There were murmurs around the group, but nobody offered any other evidence against their current home.

  “This whole place feels wrong and Makarov’s hiding something,” Sarah said vehemently. “Can’t you all feel it? Something under the surface? The Spire looks amazing and has everything we could ever want, but it’s a prison. If we stay here too long, we’ll end up prisoners just as much as we ever were when we were held at HIDRA. I dare anyone to say they don’t feel it as well.”

  For a moment the group was silent, each member lost in their thoughts. Sarah could tell her words had hit home.

  “Makarov claims he’s found a cure for the fall virus,” Sarah continued. “I’m not going to sit here doing nothing until he decides it’s time to let us in on the secret. While we’re having fun in paradise, our families are lying in sleeper modules. We owe it to them to find out everything we can, whether Makarov is ready to share it or not.”

  There was agreement around the group.

  “Okay,” Nestor said finally, “so what about the lower levels of the tower? Robert, what did you find out?”

  “I teleported down to the 90th floor,” he said. “There’s nothing much there. The central lift doesn’t go any lower, but I found another one. I saw a group of the tower workers get in, but there’s a scanner and camera. We won’t be able to get past without alerting Makarov, I’m sure.”

  “Couldn’t you just teleport further down the building?” Nestor asked, but Robert shook his head.

  “No. There’s some kind of block. Almost like an invisible barrier that won’t let me teleport past the 90th. It’s weird.”

  “It’s Makarov,” Sarah asserted. “I’ve tried to read what’s going on down there and come up blank. He’s using his mind to shield the lower levels of the tower from us.”

  “Please!” Alex said with a laugh, but became serious when he saw the others’ expressions. “I mean, why would he want to do that?”

  “That’s what we need to find out,” Nestor said. He turned to Sarah. “I take it you’ve got a plan?”

  She nodded. “I’m going to sneak into the restricted levels, access the central computer and get the information about the fall virus cure. There has to be
some way to get it to Rachel Andersen at HIDRA. She’ll know what to do with it.”

  “Sounds risky,” Octavio sniffed.

  Sarah raised an eyebrow at him. “Since when did you get so cautious?”

  “How do you think Makarov is going to react when he finds out we’ve been trying to break into his restricted area?” Alex asked.

  “I don’t know,” Sarah shot back, “but something’s going on down there. I can sense it, even if I can’t see it.”

  Nestor nodded. “Sarah’s right. However, we should take a vote on this. It affects all of us. Okay?”

  There was murmured agreement around the group.

  “Okay,” Nestor said. “All those in favour of Sarah checking out the lower levels?”

  Sarah, Robert, Louise and Nestor all raised their hands. After a moment, Octavio reluctantly raised his also. Louise looked at Wei, who shrugged at her apologetically.

  “It’s good here, Louise!” he whined. “I want to stay!”

  Louise glared at him. Finally, the Chinese kid raised his arm with a roll of his eyes.

  All eyes fell on Alex, who folded his arms.

  “Looks like I’m outvoted anyway, so what’s the point?” Alex said to Sarah. “But if this is the way it’s going to be, I’m coming with you. I want to make sure the group gets a fair report of what’s down there.”

  A smiled passed across Sarah’s face as she rose from the grass. “That’s good, because I’m going to need your help getting into the restricted levels.” She looked round the others. “The rest of you, just act normal. Well, as normal as any of you can manage.”

  With that, she strode away towards the lift entrance.

  Nestor gave an embarrassed cough. “Uh, meeting adjourned.”

  Alex rose with a shake of his head, unable to escape the feeling that Sarah Williams had just got exactly what she wanted.

  The war room on the HS Ulysses contained a circular table with a giant computer screen in the centre. Currently it displayed a map of the Pacific, showing the location of the ship – heading towards the west coast of the USA. Rachel Andersen, Commander Craig and five of the highest ranking officers on board were gathered around the illuminated communications table. The head of HIDRA, General Wellman, and several of his staff were participating in the meeting from the HQ in Paris via a link-up window on the screen. The grey-haired general poked his wire-framed spectacles back on his nose expectantly.