From Beyond the Blue Planet

by Trevor Palmer

  “So,” puzzled Seth. “We are relying on ground spotters being able to get in close enough to give us reliable info as to whether we can attack and then, what you’re saying is, they will probably out-gun us. I don’t like the sound of these odds with Kev’s life on the line.”

  “Seth … Ginny … we have to take some action. They can’t be allowed to win this one … or any other … or we may as well turn over all the food stocks and world production of food to their control.”

  The three sat glumly staring into the gloom.

  ………. Seth wasn’t sure whether he had slept or not. Or Ginny, whom he had held for much of the night. Now he lay on his back and watched the first light of sunrise bring the items in their bedroom into focus. A slight, careful turn and the most important of these came into view – the silver-framed picture of himself, Ginny and Kevin. He remembered the time and place and why they were all smiling. He swung his legs off the bed, glanced at his lovely young wife to check that she was indeed asleep, then padded across the room and quietly across to Dave in the guest’s room.

  Dave was fully dressed though with his jacket on the back of a chair. He sat absorbed in a meticulous cleaning of his Glock. He gave Seth a quick glance, checking his mood.

  “Got the first briefing from Jimmy … that’s my sniper. He’s pegged the opposition and thinks it should be a go.”

  “What does the general think?”

  “He doesn’t know. Remember I said we are probably infiltrated? To me that means the possibilities cover everyone from cook’s assistant to general.”

  Seth whistled softly. “You don’t trust the top man … General Ceri-Baker?”

  “I don’t trust anyone.”

  “What about me … given the situation with Kev?”

  “Kevin could have been … in the know or not … part of a set-up. We seem to have got onto his whereabouts very quickly and it all appears, well, a simplistic … not to mention very quick … abduction. If we get him back easily you would be the most above suspicion guy in the whole unit. Think about that.”

  Seth’s face had gone pink and it wasn’t because of the rising sun. His dark eyes were now behind slits and his jaw muscle was as tight as a well-tied shoelace.

  “I’m thinking about it now and I don’t like what I’m hearing … pardner. Do you really believe this crap?”

  Dave canted back in his chair. The handgun, now with its full clip in place, was only inches from his relaxed-looking spread fingers. The corners of his mouth quirked slightly upwards.

  “I’ll tell you this, Seth … I would never eat a meal with someone I didn’t fully trust. So-oo … lets both get to the kitchen and start cooking breakfast.”

  Seth relaxed, suddenly and with relief. “You had me going there for a minute. Is this typical Limey humour?”

  “I reckon you guys are quite capable of the same brand of humour … worse from what I’ve seen.”

  “I’m guessing it wasn’t just a Dave-style jokey thing, I reckon it was some sort of more serious test. Right?”

  Dave just shrugged. “Whatever; you passed. You don’t miss much, do you?”

  Ginny had joined them by the time they were ready to eat the first meal of the day and the mood had swung to thoughtful gloom. She asked the inevitable question…

  “Where do we go now, Dave?” Her eyes are red, he thought. “I need to get all the latest info and then we three have the big decision to make … do we … meaning the armed response team … go in to pull out Kevin or is there any other approach we can consider. It’s coming to the big crunch time. I’ll go up to my room because all my gadgets are there and then when I have the full picture we meet back down here. Give you time for a shower and whatever, Seth. I heard you in there, Ginny, before you came down. I just had a wash all over quite early. So, we’ll all be nice and clean for what may be a dirty job. An’ now we’re fed and about ready to go.” He got to his feet and looked at them questioningly. The other two looked at each before responding and some telepathic message seemed to connect them. Seth nodded at Dave but didn’t speak. Dave went up to his room feeling more like an intruder as he passed Kevin’s empty room. Where would this lead, he wondered?

  ………. Only an hour earlier at a palatial, Mexican-style white stuccoed house in the thick woodland of the Angeles National Forest north of Kevin’s home, he stirred uneasily and dragged his eyelids open. He surveyed the small bedroom which had become his prison and started to calculate the odds of an escape. They didn’t look too good but he had not yet explored the possibilities with his captors, as far as he could tell, still asleep. But he didn’t know how many there were – or if some had stayed awake as all-night guards. He began the usual first labour of the day … fixing in place his artificial leg. Then he went over as quietly as he could to the door and carefully tested it. Of course it was locked. Next, to the window. The single panel that opened was also locked so the only way out would be by breaking the glass. That in itself would be very difficult but he already knew that it was a good height from the ground … maybe not such a great height for a strong young boy with two healthy legs but Kevin knew well his own limitations.

  He wasn’t one to easily give up but now he returned to the bed. He sat there on its edge for a minute thinking about his sad plight and how futile had been his ideas of escape. He thought about his mom and dad and home. Then, slowly, he turned to lie on his side, sobbing noiselessly.

  In the kitchen below, a powerfully built guard came in and placed his Barratt 50 calibre sniper rifle on the worktop. This was Jose and he liked to carry a heavier weapon than the rest of the gang because he thought it gave him a tougher image, one that matched his pumped-up muscles, his 90 percent body tattoos … and the ever-present snarl on his dark face. Certainly the other guard, who had already cooked bacon and grits and another panful of eggs, thought so. He had wisely cooked double knowing that the wolfish Jose was coming in from his night-shift.

  “Ya, Jose. All quiet?” he grunted.

  “Sure. Never get any action here,” grumbled the tattooed guard. He patted the Barrett. “Just as well for them guys,” And his thick lips twisted in a grimace which might have been a smile on anyone else.

  The cook cum guard divided out the meal. “Ah, mebbe with that kid here some’t may happen. A rescue attempt mebbe. What y’tink, Jose?”

  Jose already had a mouthful of food and he didn’t pause before the next forkful. “We got ever’ting sewed up,” he spluttered, saving some spillage from his mouth with the back of his hands. “N’ wit the heavy stuff we got facing front ‘n back, they won’t try anyting. ‘Nother boring day,” he finished before the forked eggs arrived at his mouth.

  ………. The pod headed down the creek towards the shallow end of the Big Tujunga reservoir, steadily losing height. Its alien propulsion system of particle conversion and emission allowed a silent entry and landing and the only person to even suspect its passing was Ben Kowalczyk who was just baiting up ready for a day catching – or hoping to catch – largemouth bass. Most anglers preferred the creek but Ben stubbornly believed that were was still good fishing to be had in the lake if one was prepared to hit it at crack of dawn.

  He was about to turn off his lamp when he sensed rather than saw some big object pass his spot in the centre of the water. He felt the pull of a strong breeze but by the time he had turned to see the phenomenon it had already passed on up the reservoir and was hidden by the high rocky slopes which the water twisted through. Although puzzled, he turned back to more important business.

  The pod, following the centre of the spread of water, almost stopped halfway to the dam. Then it turned into the hills and seemed almost to be searching for a particular spot. The huge vehicle nosed its way upward yet keeping low over the trees. About half a mile from the edge of the reservoir it stopped and began to rear up with its dark, shimmering, streamlined nose pointing into the sky. Then, slowly it lowered itself into the tangle of trees and undergrowth. It had sensed just wh
at it had been programmed to sense … that below it was a hollow among the trees and rocky surface into which it could merge without the nose being visible above the tree line. No feet or other supports were extended but somehow it balanced perfectly, virtually a part of the landscape, of the woods.

  Inside the pod, as though triggered by the sudden stationary mode of the vessel, Keelotron moved, smoothly and effortlessly despite its bulk and its bulbous contours, and slid off the bed. Yet then, as if that had exhausted it, it stood, absolutely motionless, waiting.

  ………. Seth, Ginny and Dave sat tensely at the largest table in the house, the one in the centre of the dining room. The Hellmans looked at Dave expectantly.

  “Spell it out, Dave. What’s the situation? Can we make a move?” asked Seth, his jaw muscles tight again.

  Dave frowned and collected his thoughts. “Their weaponry is what I expected … almost. It’s good but they don’t have the hypersonic rail gu…”

  “What on earth’s that?” interrupted Ginny. Seth nodded too to show that he was in the dark.

  “It’s the latest thing. The US navy has it now but it fires projectiles not with gunpowder but using an electromagnetic field to push missiles out … at an unbelievable velocity. What they have got is bad enough … or good enough if you’re on the baddies side. I’ve had to go to the general to see if we can match it and, oh yeah, it’s possible but we’d have an all-out war … smack in the middle of a national park. He says it’s a no go. He’s thinking in terms of getting them to leave their fortress and then ambushing them.”

  Seth shook his head. “All this sounds too risky for Kevin’s sake. An ambush sounds messy to me … too many imponderables. And, how would we get them out?”

  “There are ways. But I agree. Look, let me have, say, two more hours to chat with my sniper guy and his buddies. Then we decide. I know more waiting will be tough but we have to be sure that we have a chance … no, a very good chance … before we go for it.”

  “I don’t like leaving Kev with that lot any longer,” Seth grouched in a low voice. Ginny nodded to that.

  “The way I see it, it’s firepower,” said Dave spreading out his hands. “And, hitting ‘em at the right moment. That’s why I need further input from Jimmy. Okay?”

  “Not really okay but I know you’re doing your best, Dave,” said Ginny.

  They stood up and moved apart. Seth followed on behind Dave up the stair but without saying anything. In his bedroom he listened to make sure that Ginny hadn’t followed him. He still remained by the door a little uncertainly, then he went across to built-in wardrobes and reached up high for an old, small box. That was where he kept old mementos. Ginny had seen the contents some years ago and then he had told one of his rare lies to her. For this was where he had stashed the alien gadget given to him by the giant he had met in the wilderness. He had told Ginny it was some kind of controller from work. Well, the first part of that could be right, he reasoned. Now he removed the thing, puzzling over it as he had before. Was it metal or plastic? What was its purpose? But the instruction from the alien had been clear …

  ‘If big trouble come, you dick.’ Well, big trouble had come, so he would, without hoping or expecting much, ‘dick’ – or ‘press’. He sat on the edge of his bed and looked again at the small, flat box. The three buttons on it were not square or round but triangular. The central one was larger, set above the other two and seemed to have been the one the alien had expected him to press. Above each one was a tiny light though at the moment all were unlit. Now Seth would find out what this was all about or, if nothing happened at all, he might just throw the darned thing away. His thumb hovered – then he pressed the large button.

  Chapter 6

  Firepower of the gods Seth stared unbelievingly. There was a tiny red gleam above the large button. Nothing really, yet his mind-set had for so long expected nothing from this simple box that he almost dropped it. Then, more miraculous, an area below the buttons seemed to lose its solidity … it appeared to turn into a fine mesh-like constituency. When a voice suddenly spoke through this mesh, Seth actually did drop the unit, fortunately perhaps, onto the bed.

  “Acknowledged. Location and response time being calculated. Standby for further communications at your present location.”

  “My god,” gasped Seth. He thought, this isn’t real. Someone has set me up.” He was soon put in his place… “Not a god. Your personal ReeRee unit has been re

  activated.”

  Should I make a complete ass of myself and ask the

  box what I should do now, thought Seth. He decided

  against that. He also ruled out turning to either Dave or

  Ginny. Play it cool, he reasoned. Stay in my room and

  see how it all pans out in the next hour. I reckon a

  simple hoax will come to light, he concluded. Never-theless he picked up the box, noting that the red light was

  still on but the mesh-like bit now looked dead solid

  again. He couldn’t help but grin.

  ………. Inside the pod, still poised in an upright position in its landing position in the dense woods that sprawled above the Big Tujunga reservoir, the ReeRee unit named Keelotron had also remained motionless after slipping off its bed. It could have remained so for a thousand years but after only three-and-a-half hours it received its first signal. This was not only its awakening but an emergency call for assistance.

  Every type of scanning imaginable – and several alien and detector device systems beyond the imagination of earthmen – had been switched on when it assumed its vertical position after the pod landed. The first signal to reach the hull of the pod and be relayed to Keelotron had been Seth’s ‘dick’, his press of the largest button. Now the detection systems of the alien robot interacted with gps and located the control box in the Hellman’s house. An almost instantaneous calculation using gaussian co-ordinates then plotted its target destination and an average time, given the terrain, to get there. Keelotron sent the voice message …

  “Attention human! Will reach you in approximately two hours. Standby for further communications at your present location.”

  Before setting out to find Seth, the robot, which the aliens had called a ‘ReeRee specifically named Keelotron, unit’ and Keelon had

  communicated by a selective wave transmission with the pod’s main computer. Then it did a strange and unbelievable thing…

  It began, slowly and imperceptibly at first but then more rapidly, to change its shape. As the shape changed from the bulbous contours of its habitual form to something beginning to resemble a living creature, its plasti-metallic casing became more and more like the dark skin of the alien whom Seth had met. There were differences even with this, however. The giant alien had a scaly skin; this new apparition had a more human skin. It had eyebrows too and the nails on each hand were short and square. But the biggest difference was that those hands were but two – not the four of the alien creature. Clearly a morphing was taking place and the outcome was a large, though not giant, humanoid. Amazingly, the new humanoid was clothed in long pants and a black tee-shirt with heavy boots covering its large feet.

  The new Keelotron walked to a part of the pod’s hull which had begun to shimmer and simply walked through into the tangle of trees and brambles. It began to climb down towards the reservoir, swiftly and expertly. One could have imagined the large newlymorphed body to be clumsy in this unfamiliar terrain but it skilfully avoided the thorns of the briars and the slippery parts of the route it took to reach the water’s edge.

  Eventually it silently came up with the first real human, a fisherman in a red, plaid shirt. It tried out its first contact with the brief greeting, “Hi.”

  The angler paused to hold up two bass and replied, “Howdy, stranger. Going to be a good day, I reckon,” as he showed off his catch.

  Keelotron nodded. “Yeah. Must get on,” it said in a rather stilted way. The angler nodded, not at all upset at having to return to his rod
and line. “Have a good day … trekking or whatever,” and he turned away. Keelotron lengthened his stride.

  Surprisingly quickly Keelotron arrived at an access road. There were pauses between cars entering, as most visitors who were not seeking a fishing spot wanted to amble around, picnic or take photos. Some stripped down or changed into running gear for a more serious jog. At one of the intervals, the robot froze into a stationary position and, this time more speedily, morphed back into his natural shape. Then it was off at a fast lick towards the exit and onto the I-210, the Foothills Freeway. It seemed to hover just inches above the road surface. The dark, browny-black bulbous shape drew plenty of curious looks but, this was LA after all: anything goes! The more testing time would be now, as it turned onto the freeway. There were plenty of police cruisers about and also plenty of motorists quite happy to ring the 1-800-TELL-CHP number to find out what the hell an odd-shaped vehicle of unidentified construction and propulsion was doing sharing valuable black-top with them.

  Keelotron wasn’t racing anyone, though; its speed centred at around 50mph as it headed south. It took just fifteen minutes before the inevitable clash took place when an SUV with the state insignia on its door closed the robot down. As though it been pulled over every day of its existence, Keelotron allowed itself to be edged onto the shoulder. With such an unknown to face, both officers slid out of the cruiser and unbuttoned their weapons.

  “What we got here?” puzzled the senior officer. He reached Keelotron, studying it carefully for any slits where a gun might poke through. However, it looked as harmless as the food-bin it had been likened to by other living aliens. The officer had his Smith and Wesson out and now raised his voice, repeating, “What we got here?” then, “Anybody in this contraption? If so you’d better come out pronto.”

  His junior arrived and walked carefully around Keelotron. “Mebbe its radio controlled,” he suggested. “Can’t see a guy driving anything shaped like this.”