“Bee Bee Wolfe, please report to the facilities manager on the lower-level B platform.”
See. Told ya.
***
Now, not to bore you with all the little details, but the situation is stark. I guess we're down to three soldiers, and they're all old, heavy-set men who can't fit into the super-secret suits the engineers have been building. The scientists backward engineered something or other for shielding, weaponry, and transportation, which provided what was needed to design these crazy things. Of course, no one else volunteered. No one is stupid enough to go out there. I really just don't care whether I live or die anymore, just as long as I can take some of these alien bastards out with me.
They want me to climb inside the suit because I'm small, like a child. So what if I haven't grown an inch since I was sixteen years old? There’s not enough food in the underground to gorge myself into obesity anyway. I'd already have depression-eaten the hell out of it if there was.
They don't force me to do it, but they definitely coerce me, if you catch what I'm throwing down. The human race is at stake. If we want our planet back, I've got to do something about it. Obi-Wan Kenobi, you're our only hope. Gawdammit!
Of course, I accept the mission and strap up inside the damn thing.
“You'll need to remove the earbuds,” the engineer says.
I laugh.
“Fine, you can wear one. We need to be able to communicate with you through the interface.”
I nod, pulling it out by the cord, letting it dangle in front of me. Then, the machinery closes in on me like I'm Darth Vader lying on the operating table, watching the mask lower onto my head. It hisses and cracks as the sounds of several latches clunk down the sides. I wince at the stench of fiberglass, ozone, and burning metal. Then, I feel the pain. They warned me about this, but I forgot, so it came as a shock to my system. Needles from various places in the suit entered into my veins and began pumping fluid into me to keep me from dehydrating.
“You won't need to eat,” I remember them saying now. “All your nutrients and more will be provided by the suit.”
Feeling the cold fluid circulate through my body makes me shiver. The suit shakes with me, shuttering with a clunking, scraping sound that catches the unwanted attention of the engineers. They look at me like I did something wrong, but I just have to laugh. It comes out all mechanical and I want to yell, “Exterminate!”
Silly people run around. They worry me and never ask me why they don't get past my doooor. I'm taking the time for a number of things that weren't important yesterday. And I still goooo!
With each step I take, my teeth clench and chatter. It feels like they're going to break free from my mouth. That's the first thing I need fixed. At the end of each arm are three metal-fingered claws. The engineers teach me to use them like my hands. The operating system has some kind of psychic interface allowing me to open and close them like I'm using my own hands. They say it will become more automatic as I practice with the suit. Then they show me the coolest feature. The palms of the hands are laser cannons or something. I'm gawdamn Ironman ... or Ironheart as the case may be.
I love target practice. That's my favorite.
It takes some time, but we work out all the kinks in the suit. They fit me with this mouthpiece that keeps my teeth from breaking apart and allows me to suck in water as I need it. They integrate my music from my three cassette tapes into the speaker system to choose songs at will, like I used to do on internet streaming services. And they figure out how to cycle urine and feces out of my suit, so I don't have to exit the suit to use the bathroom. It's a diaper ... a very special diaper.
So, after a few months of training with the suit, I'm ready for my mission. That's when they reveal what I'm meant to do.
“The alien threat enters this world through something we call Pan-Interdimensional Gateways. Three small generators on the ground power each one. We've discovered their whereabouts and integrated those locations into your suit's navigation systems. Travel during the day and rest at night,” the lead engineer says to me as she fiddles with things all over my suit. “The suit is solar-powered, as you know, and the battery system will last about twelve hours with limited use. So, you should have no issues in daylight, but make sure you find somewhere safe at night to sleep and try to move as little as possible. You'll want all that battery juice to go into shielding. We've outfitted you with three hydro-cell bombs. The remote detonator interfaces with your operating system. You'll probably want to be a mile or so away before detonating them.”
“Just me?” I ask. “What about those other suits?”
“We need soldiers ... or volunteers like you. Good luck!”
And with that, they set me off to find the three little P.I.G.G.s. That's what I call the Pan-Interdimensional Gateway Generators. It's just easier that way, don't you think?
***
In the suit, I run fast. Automatic oscillators and stabilizers, and other technical terms the engineers and scientists threw at me, keep me upright as I run at speeds of sixty plus miles per hour. Though my legs and arms move in the suit with each step I take, I feel like I'm floating, like I'm running on clouds or something. The loud metallic clanking is dulled by the music playing in my ears, and I never get tired. At least, not during the day. I sleep well at night, hidden within my shielding.
“Let me show you the world in my eyes,” plays over and over in my head before I fall asleep.
Then I wake up in the morning and do it all over again.
All three P.I.G.G.s are miles and miles away. At my fast pace, it'll still be three days or so before I arrive at the first one in old Nebraska. It may take even longer if I run into Lucies along the way. I try my best to stay off the beaten path as much as possible, but old roads are generally there for a reason.
I make it all the way to just south of Lake Michigan before I realize I'm being followed.
I jinxed myself, I think, reflecting on my stupid belief that this mission would be a walk in the park.
The twinkling diamond vibrating silently behind me almost went unnoticed with its chameleon-like exterior. I probably wouldn't have ever seen it if not for the reflection in the windshield of a broken-down car on the side of the road. Right as I passed, the alien ship glimmered in the sky behind me. I don't understand why it hasn't attacked yet, but I'm waiting for dark. If I'm solar-powered, they probably are too, and they might not have batteries like I do.
I run toward the ruin of Chicago. Until now I've avoided cities, but if this thing is following me, the Lucies may not be occupying the cities anymore. I try not to let it figure out that I'm aware of its presence as I zip through the gridlock of broken-down cars searching for a high tower. If I can reach the top of a skyscraper, I might stand a better chance against Lucy there.
I make it inside the Tribune Tower, find the stairwell, and start climbing.
Yellow, orange, pink, and purple colors scatter across the sky in a beautiful sunset as I reach the top. I only had to use my laser a couple of times to blast open doors. I didn't want to elicit unwelcome company, so I tried to keep it to a minimum. Plus, I need to reserve my energy stores if I'm going to go after that Lucy tonight. I soak in the last rays of the sun and wait.
Just as I thought it would, Lucy searches the sky-scraping buildings around me and then touches down on one, probably to rest through the night. I mark the landing spot on my internal map and race down the stairs. I cut down Michigan to Kinzie, finding the building with a signature name missing a T. I have a good laugh before crashing through the front doors.
“When the sun goes down, then the stars might shine,” plays in my ears as I reach the roof. “Shining in the dark.”
The diamond ship hovers with a slow oscillation around some kind of alien pillar. Intestine-like cables extend from the ship to the pillar anchoring it to the roof. No one's around—just a low buzzing sound. I find a dark spot to crouch and keep watch, hoping I won't use up too much of my battery before I have
to face this thing. I've never seen one before, so I have no idea what I'm even looking for. I'm just watching for any little movement. For all I know, it could be invisible. If so, then I'm probably completely screwed.
Hell, I'm not even sure if my weapons will work on these alien machines. I'm way in over my head here.
A slithering sound of footsteps echoes nearby. I want to look, but I'm afraid to move now. Then the fear takes hold as I remember my family and friends. They all died. These things killed them. I try to calm myself and regain control of my breathing. It's a lot harder than you'd think in this massive suit. A red light blinks on my display.
“Proximity alert,” it chirps. “Movement detected. Possible violence imminent.”
Are you kidding me? I think. I'm having a gawdamn panic attack right now, and this alien can't give me a moment to pull myself together.
“Play Chemical Smile,” I command as I twist around while opening my metal hands. “Lasers ready.”
The drums beat fast, and the guitars wail before Art sings, “She lost her focus yesterday.” I burst forward with all my energy, lurching toward my unseen foe. “Take this, you alien sonuvabitch!” I yell as I blast into its backside.
Two chunks of its armor crater inward as shiny shrapnel falls to the floor with a double clank. The massive hulk of a thing turns toward me with surprise in its giant black alien eyes. At least, I think it's surprise. Hard to tell. I've never seen one before with its Cthulhu face—no, more like an Ood with long, slender dangly tentacles like some outer space Duck Dynasty reject. Whatever it is, it's damn ugly. Without hesitation, I blast its wriggling head worms with both lasers.
The headless alien falls into a metallic heap on the ground with a resounding thud. Then, the diamond ship crashes into the ground, and I jump out of the way of flying debris, just in time. The suit and ship must be connected, I think, as I inspect the decapitated corpse. Is it decapitated when the head is blown off or just cut off? Either way, I don't see massive pools of darkness staring at me from above a hundred slimy tendrils anymore.
That's when I notice the green dots. Close to a dozen shine like pinpricks around me, closing in and creating a polka dot pattern on my suit.
“What are you?” a voice cries out from the dark. “Human or alien?”
“Human,” I yell inside my helmet, which comes out as a distorted vibration of noise through the speaker. I sound like a Dalek. “I'm not a Dalek. I'm definitely human!”
“Well, guys. I don't think an alien would say they're not a Dalek,” the voice says, getting closer to me as the green dots disappear. “So, who are you? You big bad mutha—"
“Wolfe. Bee Bee Wolfe.”
***
They want me to stay with them to fight the aliens around Chicago. Before I leave, I tell them all about the Brookhaven Institute, their suits built from alien tech, and my mission to destroy the Pan-Interdimensional Gateway Generators.
“So, they're not aliens from outer space?” asks the team leader. “They're from another dimension? Interdimensional beings?”
“I guess so. I'm no scientist.”
“We can come with you. Help you take them down.”
“You don't have super special suits,” I say with a laugh. I can only imagine what the mechanized laughter sounds like coming from the speaker in the helmet.
“If we can't go with you, take this,” the team leader says, clamping something to my metal wrists. “They're amplifying bracers. We got them off an alien awhile back but haven't been able to use them with our tech. I bet they'll work with your suit. They should turn those lasers up to eleven if you know what I mean.”
I do.
I say thanks, bow my head, turn away, and run from the morning sun.
I stay off the beaten path again, trying not to stop until I reach my destination. It takes about nine hours, but I make it just as the sun starts to fall toward the western horizon. I can't take the time to admire the beautiful coloration in the sky because there is work to be done.
Golden fields of hay lay before me with round bales here and there, but there aren't any diamonds or silver suited tendril-faced Lucies. I don't see anything out of this world at all. I aimlessly walk around the marker on my map for about an hour until I realize that I'm standing in the middle of a crop circle. A friggin' crop circle! The face of Giorgio Tsoukalos of Ancient Aliens fame pops into my head, saying, "I'm not saying it was aliens … but it was aliens."
"Reach out and touch faith," plays like a prophecy in my ears.
I bend down and spread the hay apart, finding the silver top of something that resembles a utility hole cover, except it's almost twice the size and shaped in a nonagon. It's not a typical shape, and I'm not really sure how I know the name. Maybe high school geometry wasn't a waste of time after all.
Intricate alien writing covers the whole thing like an Egyptian sarcophagus. I think, It’d be cool if I could take a picture, and then the helmet snapped an image. They didn’t tell me it could do that … or did they? Maybe I was zoned out at the time.
Anyway, I open the cover, drop the hydro-cell inside, and get the hell out of there. About a mile and a half away, I trigger the detonator. The explosion throws hay all around.
That's one, I think as I find a place to rest for the night.
***
The next morning, I wake up with the sunrise all alone. Without anyone keeping my attention away from my task, I run. I run like the wind. Well, like a mechanical wind thingamajig. I guess the Lucies must be somewhere else because there was no sign of anyone between the Nebraska hayfield and this sign welcoming me to Yellowstone National Park: National Park Service. The sign's not pristine by any means, but it still stands, and behind it is a massive wooded forest.
The second spot blinks on my map telling me I'm getting hotter. Hotter. Then, it goes out. Cold. Colder. Then, it comes back. Red hot!
How am I ever going to find this thing? I think, as I trample over old leaves on the forest floor. I should rake these things up while I'm here. Don't want to start a fire.
I laugh my mechanical laugh through my speakers.
Then, a red light blinks on my display, chirping, "Proximity alert. Movement detected. Possible violence imminent."
Oops, I think, as I try to find cover while searching all around me for the threat.
Then it hits me. Plowing me from behind like I'm a quarterback sacked by an overenthusiastic linebacker, I smack the ground hard. But I'm not hurt. My systems flash a red warning but display no damage. Well, no major damage. My attacker roars behind me, and I turn. The gigantic snout of a grizzly bear slobbers all over me with another menacing roar. Its monstrous paws with razor-sharp claws swipe at my armor.
“Stop!” I yell, as I try to stand up. "Just chill out! I'm not trying to hurt you!"
The grizzly stands tall and roars again, swiping at me with both hands. It knocks me off kilter a bit, but I'm able to replant my feet and stand firm. The poor thing is hurting itself more than it hurts me. Broken claws and bloody paws. I probably startled it with my laugh, or maybe it's a mama bear protecting her family.
“Please stop!” I yell again, trying to stand as tall as possible. Then, I shoot my lasers at two trees on either side of the bear.
It glances at the charred trees, then back to me before it drops to the ground on all fours and ambles away, limping on one forelimb.
Poor guy, I think, examining the area around me. Why was he here?
The signal for the location of the second P.I.G.G. flashes on the screen. Super red friggin' hot, like boiling hot lava.
“After a while, you start to smile. Now you feel cool,” plays in my ears.
Yes, I do. I certainly do, Mr. Lennon. And there it is, the familiar nonagonal shape lying at the base of a tree trunk. Isn't there a massive super volcano or something like that in Yellowstone? If I blow this hydro-cell will it trigger the thing? Can I risk not blowing up this generator?
Thoughts flicker away as fast as they com
e. Nothing can stop this. If we don't blow away the generators, we don't save the human race from the Lucies. If I trigger a super volcano, then I guess I'll be taking the invaders with us. I'm in a Kobayashi Maru kind of situation, and I'm just not equipped to deal with it right now. So I open up the nonagonal cover, drop the hydro-cell, and run like a bat out of hell.
Just to be on the safe side, I detonate this one around three miles away. Not sure if that's safe enough. When it explodes, I run. I don't look back. I'm not about to be Lot's wife or some Pompeiian sculpture of ash. I run and run and run into the dark, and I forget all about my battery life until the red warning flashes on my screen. Are you kidding me? I think as I calculate the time before sunrise. I'm going to have to chill right here and not move an inch for the next eight hours or so, and even doing that might not be enough.
I sit facing Yellowstone. If volcanic lava is headed my way, I want to see it coming for me. So I wait, too scared to sleep. I don't even close my eyes. When the sun starts to rise, I'm filled with surprise. For a second, I think, here it comes, but then I realize the light is coming from the wrong place. It's morning, and here comes the sun. But I'm too damn tired today to run.
***
It takes me about two days to reach the mountains, huge mountains with peaks of snow. I find a highway that winds me through the beauty and majesty of it all. I can't believe no one is here anymore to enjoy it. It surprises me that there aren't even any aliens around. I've taken out two of their generators. They've got to know something is happening. They've got to know we're fighting back.
I find a lodge at Chalk Mountain on the side of the highway, and I rest. I can't keep up my speed through the mountains. Up and down. I run faster going down, but the momentum shifts suddenly as I'm going up again. It wears me out.
In the morning, I'm ready to go again.
Shake the dust from this small town. I turn and follow the west wind down. I go and pack up my shiny things and go. Yeah, just go.
Once Upon A Dystopia: An Anthology of Twisted Fairy Tales and Fractured Folklore Page 4
