The Mothership

by Renneberg, Stephen

  “Crap shot, mate,” Slab declared.

  “You do better,” Wal snapped, setting his gun down.

  Slab gave Wal a dismissive look. “Waste of a bullet.”

  Cracker produced a stick of dynamite from his private stash. “Get me closer.”

  “You’re kidding, aren’t you?” Slab said sharply. “That pop stick won’t even scratch it.”

  Cracker looked defiant. “You want to be stuck out here forever?”

  Slab fell into a brooding silence as Bill eased the boat toward where the road met the flooding river. Cracker pushed in a fuse, set the timer and prepared to hurl it at the curtain when Slab stood up.

  “Give it here,” Slab said, sticking his huge paw out.

  Cracker hesitated, then handed it to the hulking ex-footballer. Slab locked one hand around the railing for support, then hurled the dynamite toward the bank. It landed well past the flood waters, close to the foot of the curtain, almost in front of the pole.

  “I’ve still got it,” Slab declared with a self satisfied smile.

  “Lucky throw,” Wal said mischievously. “Wind caught it.”

  “Piss off, Wal,” Slab raised his hand, demonstrating there wasn’t a hint of a breeze, then the dynamite exploded. The blast rippled a short way up the side of the curtain shielding the pole before dissipating.

  “Crap!” Slab growled disappointed. Resigned to his fate, he removed a beer from the boat’s electric powered cooler and prepared to drown his sorrows. “Guess we’re stuck.”

  “The whole forest is going to be knee-deep in water in a few hours,” Bill said.

  “We need to get to high ground while there’s still time,” Cracker said.

  “Not more bloody hiking!” Slab moaned.

  “We can’t stay here,” Cracker said, “This place is going to be lousy with crocs in no time.”

  Slab scanned the rising water irritably, knowing Cracker was right.

  “There’s a high plateau up river,” Bill said as he pushed the throttle forward and headed the boat away from the energy curtain.

  “Then what?” Slab growled. “Sit there ‘til the beer runs out?”

  “It’s not that bad, mate. We’ve got bread, we’ve got onions, we’ve got lots of crocodiles!” Wal said brightly. “We can barbeque them! Make croc burgers!”

  Slab gave him an irritated look. “Shut up, Wal.”

  * * * *

  Cougar went down on one knee beside an old paperbark tree and scanned the forest ahead through his sniper scope. The air was still and the land was deathly quiet as the creatures of the forest had not yet become accustomed to the dome’s ghostly light. “There’s nothing out there.”

  “I’m telling you,” Vamp’s voice sounded emphatically in his earpiece, “There are multiple contacts, dead ahead.”

  Cougar performed another slow sweep with his rifle, examining every shadow. “They must be invisible, because I got nothing.”

  A short distance behind Cougar, Beckman glanced at Laura. “Could it be wildlife?”

  “It’s possible,” Laura said. “Casuarinas would be hard for your man to spot.”

  “Could you see them?”

  “I know what to look for, but no guarantees.”

  “Everyone hold position,” Beckman ordered over the radio, then he and Laura crept between green leafy plants to Cougar’s position.

  The sniper gave Beckman a dubious look, convinced there was nothing out there. Beckman handed Laura his field glasses, then waited patiently as she vainly examined the shapes and shadows lying across their path.

  “Movement!” Vamp’s voice sounded urgently in their earpieces. “Two new contacts, coming at you! Fast!”

  Cougar and Beckman raised their weapons, but saw no target. Laura looked up, wondering if Vamp was mistakenly tracking the large birds of prey circling above the tree tops. Instead, she saw two shiny metal seekers fall through the canopy legs first, catching branches one handed and kicking off from tree trunks toward them with more speed and agility than any animal on earth possessed.

  “Up there!” she yelled, pointing to the tree tops.

  Before either Cougar or Beckman could respond, a silver seeker landed in front of Cougar and sprayed his face and chest with nano membrane. The milky white substance swept around his head, causing him to gag as it cut off his air supply. He dropped his rifle and clawed at the nano membrane as it enveloped his neck and shoulders. A second seeker landed behind Laura with a thud and sprayed her back with the same white substance. The nano membrane flowed around her torso, pinning her arms to her sides as Beckman brought his pistol up. Before he could fire, the seeker in front of Cougar sprayed him, pinning his left arm and enveloping his waist. The membrane flowed down his body, cocooning his legs down to his knees. The second seeker stepped forward and kicked Beckman’s hand, sending his pistol spinning into the trees.

  Seeing Cougar was suffocating, Beckman pulled his knife from his boot scabbard with his free hand. “Cougar, freeze!”

  Cougar went rigid, then Beckman stabbed the knife through the nano membrane sealing the sniper’s open mouth. Cougar gasped as he got a breath of air, then the membrane started to close. The sniper wedged his fingers in the hole, then kept tearing at it as the white substance flowed around his fingers, trying to seal the gap.

  Beckman turned and lunged at the nearest seeker with his knife, but it effortlessly swatted the knife away, then knocked him off his feet. Its thin metallic fingers clamped on his left ankle and lifted him into the air, holding him at arm’s length where he flailed helplessly upside down. The second seeker wrapped an arm around Laura’s chest, and lifted her off the ground, oblivious to her attempts to hammer at its lower torso with her fists.

  Twenty meters away, the rest of the team realized what was happening, and took aim at the two machines. The seekers had struck so fast, even Tucker had failed to get a shot away.

  “Shoot if you have a clear shot!” Hooper yelled, unable to get an unobstructed angle himself.

  The two seekers bent knees, then launched themselves into the tree tops with their captives. Beckman saw the ground fall away beneath him at astonishing speed. Hanging upside down, his stomach churned as he spun helplessly. Below, he saw Hooper and the rest of the team aiming their weapons, unable to fire for fear of hitting them. The seekers caught a tree trunk with their free hands, then pushed off with their feet, propelling themselves sideways through the canopy toward the ground, well away from the team.

  “Careful, guys!” Vamp yelled over the radio. Her eyes darted from the two machines to the crystal ball. “The other contacts are ahead!”

  Beckman’s helmet struck the ground hard, dazing him when his captor landed. The second seeker jumped down beside the first, holding Laura high enough that her feet missed the ground. Beckman blinked stars from his eyes, then tried to grab one of his captor’s metal legs but it tore free effortlessly, seemingly unaware of his feeble attempt. The seeker bent knees again, preparing to leap into the tree tops as Beckman heard a thud of a hard object striking metal and felt the seeker shudder.

  Good shot! He thought, thinking a bullet had struck the machine, then realized they were too far away for the team to help.

  Hanging upside down, he looked up at the seeker, puzzled by what he saw. A long thin, strangely blackened object protruded from the seeker’s upper torso segment. The machine shuddered awkwardly as it regained its balance, then froze. Confused, its sensor disk conducted a rapid, three hundred and sixty degree scan of the forest, finding nothing. A second projectile hit the machine from the other side, driving through its hip section. The seeker turned toward the new threat. It had momentarily detected movement, a shadow within a shadow, but the shape had already vanished.

  Beckman glanced at the seeker holding Laura as another of the strange projectiles punched clean through its lower torso. Suddenly, he realized what they were.

  Spears!

  The lower arm section of Laura’s seeker sparked around the
spear’s entry point as the machine spasmed and fell sideways, its spine severed. A compartment opened in its hip section, and a cylindrical data pod emerged, popping up a meter above the fallen machine. The tiny device spun slowly on its axis, recording the seeker’s fate via dozens of miniscule black sensors that pockmarked its surface. A rhythmic beating drew Beckman’s attention to a spinning object that sliced through the air above the forest floor. It crashed into the data pod, driving it into a tree, then the boomerang and the shattered metal cylinder fell to the ground.

  Beckman searched for the source of the attack, but the forest was deserted. His seeker spasmed, dropping him hard on his shoulder as it fell to its knees, ejecting its own data pod. It then collapsed onto the ground like scrap metal while its data recorder, aware of the fate of its twin, shot off into the forest, skimming above the thick green foliage with increasing speed, intent on escaping to report the incident.

  Bandaka stood up and crashed his nulla nulla into the small cylindrical device as it sped past. The hardwood club crushed one side of the small device, shorting it out, and driving it into the ground. He gave a yell in a language unrecognizable to Beckman as Liyakindirr appeared from his hiding place and gave a whoop of triumph, having felled Laura’s evil spirit with a single spear. Bandaka shouldered his fire hardened club as he strolled forward to where Beckman and Laura lay struggling against the nano membranes.

  “Nice club,” Beckman said, eyeing the primitive weapon. “Glad you know how to use it.”

  Bandaka grinned a broad piano teeth smile, starkly white against his jet black skin, as Hooper ran to where Beckman and Laura lay. The master sergeant watched astonished as Liyakindirr planted a foot on one of the machines and wrenched his spear free.

  Beckman followed his gaze. “Low tech, but effective.”

  “Yeah,” Hooper agreed as he tried cutting through the nano membrane enveloping Beckman. As soon as his blade passed through the milky white substance, it immediately flowed back together. “Can’t cut this crap, whatever it is!” Hooper growled, sheathing his knife. He took Beckman’s arm across his shoulders and pulled him to his feet while Laura stood awkwardly beside them, able to walk unassisted.

  Bandaka recovered his spears from the seeker’s torso, setting off a new series of short circuits. A few meters away, Liyakindirr retrieved his boomerang. Its leading edge was crushed, and would require many hours of painstaking work to restore its aerodynamic qualities. The aboriginal hunters exchanged words in Yolngu, then Bandaka fell in behind them, while Liyakindirr headed off into the bush.

  “Where’s your friend going?” Laura asked.

  “To get the others,” Bandaka replied. His wife and daughter hid among the trees to the southwest, although they’d not seen Mulmulpa since they’d fled their camp. They were all growing anxious for his safety. No one knew the forest better than the old man, but the strange spirits invading their home were not of the forest. Perhaps they were beyond even Mulmulpa’s wisdom.

  Beckman studied the hunter as they headed back to Cougar’s position. He was tall and lean, far more slender in build than an African, and his skin was a dark midnight black. He wore the barest of loin cloths, and while Beckman sweated constantly, Bandaka was unaffected by the heat and humidity. He was as well adapted to his environment as any man had ever been.

  “Thanks for the help,” Beckman said.

  Bandaka’s gleaming white smile returned. The hunter had an infectious friendliness about him that Beckman had not expected. “We lucky. The runners got no guns.”

  “Have you seen other machines with guns?”

  “Yeah, bigger than them two. Tried shooting us, but we hide.” Bandaka sobered. “Can’t fight that one.”

  Beckman and Hooper exchanged concerned looks, then Bandaka tilted his head sideways, studying Laura. “You the animal doctor, from over near Marrkalawa people?”

  Laura nodded. “Yes. Have we met?”

  “I am Bandaka. Saw you once. My daughter take you bird to heal.”

  “What’s her name?”

  “Mapuruma.”

  Laura tied to remember a young girl by that name, but couldn’t place her.

  Beckman studied the hunter’s weapons. “How can your spears penetrate those machines?”

  Bandaka raised one of his spears for Beckman to study, indicating the blackened point. “Stone tip, very hard.” In the same hand, he held up a paddle-like object about a meter long. “Use spear thrower.” He dropped his club, then attached his spear to a notch at the end of the paddle and demonstrated how to use the spear thrower.

  “It’s like a lever,” Laura explained. “They can throw a spear two to three times further with it than by hand. It’s commonly known as a Woomera. The missile test range down south is named after it.”

  Hooper studied the primitive weapon with growing understanding. “With the stone tip and the thrower, those spears pack a punch.”

  “Wood very hard,” Bandaka said, showing how he could not flex it. “Fire make it harder.”

  “It’s not steel,” Laura explained, “But it is one of the hardest woods on earth.”

  Beckman remembered the metal skin on the seekers was thin, built for low weight, not strength. They were clearly fast, vulnerable scouts. What worried him was the other machine Bandaka had seen, the one they’d run from. What was it, he’d said? Can’t fight that one.

  Bandaka scooped up his club and started walking again. The hunter considered telling Beckman about Mulmulpa’s warning, but they came upon Cougar before he could speak. The sniper was propped against a tree, his head and shoulders wrapped in nano membrane penetrated by a breathing tube Xeno had inserted in his mouth to give him air. She now worked desperately to prevent the milky white substance from enveloping the breathing tube and cutting off his air supply while the rest of the team had formed a defensive circle around them.

  “There’s no way to cut this stuff,” Xeno said in a brittle voice.

  Dr McInness knelt beside Cougar and pulled at the nano membrane with tweezers, testing its elasticity, watching how it fought to fully envelop the sniper. “This behavior isn’t chemical. It’s programmed, perhaps the moment it was sprayed.” Dr McInness touched the membrane with his forefinger. “It doesn’t run up my hand. It’s not programmed to do that.”

  “So how do we get this stuff off?” Beckman demanded impatiently.

  Dr McInness released the piece of nano membrane he’d been testing near Cougar’s cheek. “There must be a trigger, an instruction that turns it off. The problem is, we don’t know what it is, or even how to transmit it.”

  Laura struggled against her bonds, finding she could move slightly, but if she pushed too far, the nano membrane tightened its grip, constricting her movement. “If they’re machines, can’t we cut their power?”

  Dr McInness brightened. “They might be too small to have their own power supply. If so, they must be drawing power from their environment.”

  “Like plants?” Laura asked, looking at the forest around them. “Plants use photosynthesis.”

  “I was thinking of something more on the quantum level,” Dr McInness said absently, then he realized he was over thinking the problem. His eyes widened and he exclaimed, “We need a blanket!”

  Xeno retrieved a Mylar first aid blanket from her medical kit for Dr McInness.

  “Wrap it around him, tightly,” Dr McInness said.

  She did as she was told, completely covering Cougar’s head and shoulders and holding the edges down tightly to block out the light. She waited a few seconds, then Cougar threw off the blanket and jumped to his feet, spitting the tube out of his mouth. Sliding down his shirt was a dull metallic gray ooze that formed into globules and fell onto the ground creating small viscous pools at his feet.

  “Light is energy!” Dr McInness declared happily. “When its power supply is cut off, in this case solar power, its memory is wiped!” He dived into his pack and produced a small, stoppered test tube. “Hold still,” he commanded
as he scraped ooze into the tube from Cougar’s shirt before it fell to the ground.

  Xeno shook the remaining memory wiped nano machines from the blanket, then wrapped Laura in it. A few seconds later, Laura pushed the blanket away.

  “That stuff’s disgusting!” Laura said as she shook nano ooze from her clothes.

  Xeno shook the blanket clean again, then turned to Beckman. “OK Major, you’re next.”

  “Wait!” Dr McInness said, placing a hand on Xeno’s arm. “Major, do you mind if I conduct an experiment?”

  Beckman scowled. “You’re kidding?”

  “One minute,” Dr McInness pleaded, “That’s all.”

  Markus, who’d been watching proceedings curiously, added, “Could be useful intelligence.”

  Beckman sighed. “Make it quick.”

  Dr McInness scooped up a large blob of memory wiped nano ooze from the ground, then splashed it onto the nano membrane imprisoning Beckman. The nano ooze turned from a dull mercury gray to milky white as it merged into the active membrane and immediately expanded down Beckman’s leg and up his chest.

  “Hey! What are you doing?” Beckman demanded anxiously.

  Dr McInness looked delighted. “Did you see that?” He glanced around at the others. “The programmed part passed instructions to the memory wiped part!”

  “Get this alien crap off me!” Beckman ordered. “Now!”

  Xeno wrapped the blanket tightly around Beckman, with Hooper’s help. Beckman felt the pressure on his legs and arm vanish, then they released him from the blanket and the nano ooze dripped onto the ground. While he was still flicking the last of the ooze onto the ground, Liyakindirr appeared followed by Djapilawuy and little Mapuruma. Ambling a short distance behind them was old Mulmulpa.