Dragonstar Destiny

by David Bischoff

  “I guess we just have to sit tight and find out,” said Takamura. Nonetheless, Kemp noticed his jaw clenching as he loosed the snap on his gun holster.

  Kemp took two steps closer to his rifle, then turned and shaded his eyes from the sparkling illumination pouring off the light-sphere.

  Previously clear, the bubble faded into translucence as its colors darkened and a light-shot mist began to creep through its interior like thick tentacles from below. This mist began to fold in on itself, roiling like the future within a fortune-teller’s crystal ball.

  And then forms began to float up from the hatchway, assuming a patterned position within the sphere. The flashes of sparks on the periphery and the occasional stabs of light from below illuminated patches of the form. Riveted grey metallic swaths. Spider-like articulated legs. An occasional glimpse of black scales, pale veinous flesh.

  “It’s some sort of force-field, that bubble,” Dr. Jakes said after the first wave of awe had washed over the welcoming party. “Looks impenetrable by normal means, but conducive to sound.” He looked over to McDonald, who was clearly shaken by the sight before him. “Try a standard message, Jim.”

  McDonald nodded. He brought a transmitter to his mouth. Flicked a switch. Began to speak.

  His words were amplified and broadcast over the speakers, as well as via various radio bands.

  “Greetings. We welcome you. We are of the planet Earth. We mean you no harm. We wish to speak to you. We wish to communicate.”

  There was no answer from the sphere. The smoky stuff within merely thickened, obscuring the floating figures within.

  “Greetings,” continued McDonald. “We welcome you. We mean no harm. We are natives of the planet Earth. We have been stranded upon this space vessel. We need your help. Who are you?”

  No response.

  “Maybe they’re recording the language for translation purposes,” Takamura suggested. “Repeat the messages, and then keep on talking. Continue with the procedure we discussed before.”

  McDonald nodded and obeyed.

  When he was finished, he took out the large drawings that had been prepared. Drawings of the Milky Way Galaxy, the Sol system of planets. Of Earth, of human beings, lettered with the representative English names.

  McDonald flashed these posters to the impassive and mysterious aliens.

  There was no vocal response.

  But halfway into the cards, a side of the bubble began to bulge.

  “Look!” said Becky. “Something is breaking out of it!”

  Something indeed, noted Kemp. A smaller bubble broke loose from the first. Humming and flashing with sparks, it seemed to carry one of the inhabitants of the sphere. Then another bubble separated from the main sphere, and another; until three separate force-field-enclosed aliens hovered in front of them. Hovered oddly humming, the black fog within the shells roiling, obscuring the creatures themselves.

  Then the humming changed frequency. It slid up, then down, then up, in a definite pattern.

  “You getting that, McDonald?” said Takamura. “I think they’re trying to communicate.”

  “Yes, sir,” said McDonald. “Analysis processes engaged.”

  “Shit,” said Kemp. “That doesn’t sound like communication to me. That sounds like some sort of—”

  Before he could finish the sentence, a blinding star of light flashed in the middle of the central sphere.

  “Weapon!” screamed Kemp.

  Even as he said the word, a beam of intense energy flowed from the generating sphere to McDonald’s equipment.

  The translation computer was blasted to bits, and McDonald was thrown aside like a rubber doll.

  Another beam, less intense, streamed from the bubble-alien to the left, enveloping Takamura in a momentary dazzle, then winking out.

  Takamura crumpled to the ground.

  “So much for a friendly first contact!” said Kemp. He leaped for his rifle in the back of the OTV. Becky Thalberg joined him there for cover.

  Immediately the three bubble-aliens commenced moving, firing beams at the IASA members and the Saurians alike, striking them down as they had struck down Mishima Takamura.

  Kemp aimed, and fired off a round of his rifle directly into one of the aliens, with absolutely no effect.

  No way he could deal with the things this way, he thought.

  “C’mon, Becky,” he said. “Get into the OTV. We’re getting out of here!”

  Becky flashed him a frightened look, then, without arguing, she leaped into the back of the machine. Kate Ennis was already at the controls, her arms instinctively covering her head. Kemp jumped in the passenger seat, immediately punching up the bubble top. As it came down over their heads, he turned to Kate.

  “Okay, I’ve seen you drive these things before. Let’s get out of here!”

  Kate shot one look at Kemp, then looked out onto the clearing, where the aliens were picking off the IASA members one by one. Mikaela Lindstrom had just fallen; and Kemp groaned with the sight.

  “Are they killing them?” Kate asked, voice on the edge of hysteria as she started the OTV.

  “No, looks like some kind of stun-beam,” said Kemp. “All the same, I don’t want it getting me. Do you?”

  “No,” she said, and swung the wheel, and then engaged the vehicle at maximum acceleration. “Where to?” she asked.

  “To the main camp near the Saurian boundary. At the controls of this ship ... We’ll be able to regroup there with the others, and maybe put up some resistance. We don’t want any alien race thinking we’re a bunch of wimps, do we? They’ll have no respect for us.” He noticed Becky looking out the back. “Well, are they following us?”

  “No,” said Becky.

  But that was all she said.

  Kemp looked behind himself after making sure that Kate had the OTV well in hand. The scene there was one of total chaos, the aliens striking down the few remaining team members. Apparently none of the others had been able to reach their vehicles; no other OTVs were following this one’s example.

  “Looks as though they’re letting us go,” said Becky. “They’re not even attempting to come after us.”

  “Probably they figure they’ll get us eventually,” said Kate Ennis, wide-eyed. “l mean, how far can we go?”

  “Well, we can go just far enough to put up a decent fight,” said Kemp, the image of Mikaela falling still in his mind.

  “You’re right about the stunning,” said Becky. “Look ... they’re carrying the fallen into that bubble.”

  Kemp looked. Sure enough, the bodies of his comrades were rising ... held suspended by some sort of force ... Then, escorted by the alien-bubbles, they were swallowed up by the force-bubble.

  “Specimens,” Kemp muttered as Kate turned past a grouping of rocks and the view was obscured. “They’re taking them as specimens, the bastards.”

  “Seems as though you were right, Phineas,” said Becky. “But then, maybe we’re only delaying the inevitable.”

  “Don’t be so fatalistic, Becky,” Kemp said, turning his attention back to the way ahead and to Kate Ennis’s driving, “We’ll figure something out.”

  “At least we can hope that the others weren’t harmed,” Kate said.

  “I shouldn’t have let that idiot Takamura do this kind of thing,” Kemp fumed.

  “Phineas, you can’t blame Mishima,” Becky said from the back. “And you can’t blame yourself. In this particular case, it was all of our decisions ... There was simply no way we could be sure what was going to happen.”

  “What did happen was a chance we had to take,” Kate agreed.

  “For all we knew, the aliens would be cute little bunny rabbits, coming to bring us Easter eggs!”

  “Absolutely, Phineas.”

  “No time for Monday-morning quarterbacking now,” Kemp said decis
ively. “We get back to camp, we dig in there, and then we wait for the aliens to come and get us.”

  “Maybe they’ll be a little more polite this time,” Kate said.

  “Yeah,” said Kemp. “Maybe they’ll say ‘please’ before they use their stun-beams.”

  “Is it a possibility we can use radios to contact them, talk to them, reason with them?” offered Becky.

  “I don’t know,” said Kemp. “We’re going to have to think about this one. Think about this one real hard.”

  They all thought about it in silence as the scenery rolled past.

  The all-too-familiar primeval forests, the plains, the rocks, and the occasional herd of herbivorous dinosaurs grazing placidly, unaware that their Creators had just barged into their happy behemoth lives.

  Kemp took a moment to supply Ennis, with directions back to the base.

  Then he asked, “Would you like me to drive?”

  “Hell no. I can do that. I want you, Phineas Kemp, to remember that you’re a top-notch leader. I want you to figure out how we’re going to deal with this incredible mess.” Her knuckles were white upon the steering wheel, and though she had never looked more beautiful, their time together was the last thing on Phineas Kemp’s mind. In fact, it was almost a relief. Yes, he was terribly upset about Mikaela—but nonetheless, he reveled in the fact that, with Takamura out as well, he was at the head of the situation. When they reorganized, Phineas Kemp would be in charge again, and since he functioned best in a crisis, since he was totally alive at such times, he knew he would be able to deal with the problem.

  And if he couldn’t ... well, it was better going out feeling fully alive and in command than to check out in disgrace and demoted.

  This would be the redemption of Colonel Phineas Kemp.

  He just knew it.

  As the OTV roared ahead, Kemp thought.

  After a time, he spoke.

  “Okay, this is it,” he said with a decisive edge to his deep and resonant voice. “We get back, we regroup. We arm ourselves and we get the Saurians in order, tell them what is going on. You can take care of that, can’t you, Kate? You’ve become somewhat the Saurian expert.”

  “Sure. And they love to fight. They’ll be very excited, I’m sure,” Kate said tartly, not sounding at all excited about the prospect.

  “Fight those things we saw come out of the hatch?” Becky said in disbelief. “You’ve got to be kidding me! It was child’s play for them to deal with capturing almost all of our party! Imagine if they really meant business.”

  “Defense on our part, stubbornness,” said Kemp, “can only be construed as a sign of intelligent and resourceful beings. Perhaps a little concerted force on our part will make them want to try to communicate with us ... Something they refused to do a little while ago. Respect for the opponent goes a long way in establishing treaties.”

  “Treaties! Those things can squash us like cockroaches!” Becky said, exasperated. “Why should they settle for a treaty?”

  “Very simple. We’re desperate, right? We’ll use a little military tactic that Marcus Jashad himself might have devised. We shall continue to attempt to communicate with the beings via the radios back at the camp. And we shall promise them that if they get too close to us, we’ll blow the whole Dragonstar. Apparently they very much want the ship itself, and its inhabitants. This will at least make them attempt to communicate, parlay.”

  Becky was stunned and said nothing.

  “Are you serious?” Kate demanded. “How could we possibly threaten to blow the Dragonstar up? I mean, can we?”

  “For all intents and purposes, yes—it should be easy enough to rig up a bomb to blow a hole through the control-section big enough to depressurize the whole interior before there was any chance of repair.”

  “You’re crazy!” said Becky.

  “Drastic times call for drastic measures,” Kemp said assertively. “You have any alternative plans?”

  “Can’t we just say we’ve rigged up a bomb, and not actually do it?” Kate said.

  “Look, if the aliens are as technically capable as they seem to be, I’m sure they’d be able to sniff out a bluff, pronto. Now, I’m not saying that I would ever actually set this bomb off ... Just rig it. Hopefully the aliens will know little human psychology, and they will assume we’re in a totally irrational state. All I’m after is a chance to talk with them, and so far they haven’t bothered to try. We’re just forcing them to.”

  “Whew,” said Becky. “For a moment I thought you really had gone nuts, Phineas.”

  “We have to make the aliens believe I’m just that,” Kemp said.

  “And then, though, what are we going to actually say to the aliens?” asked Kate.

  “Good question. Give us back our crew members or we’ll blow this ship up? Then give us a ticket on the next starbus to Earth?” Becky demanded.

  “Communication is of primary importance. As soon as they understand who we are and what we need, there’s a chance. But without communications, there’s no hope at all. That’s what we’re playing a gambit here for.”

  “But this might blow up in our faces, if the actual bomb doesn’t,” Becky objected. “l mean, the aliens are going to think they’re dealing with the equivalent of terrorists! And they might deal harshly.”

  “No. Once we’ve communicated—and I cannot emphasize that word enough—we can simply tell them that it was all a trick to force them into talking. Whether they appreciate the joke and the strategy or not, we’re still talking... and there’s the chance of talking our way out of this situation. Otherwise, we’re absolutely nowhere.”

  Becky gestured a surrender. “I guess you’re right. I certainly can’t think of a better plan. I suppose I just don’t like this bomb business. At all.”

  “That’s simple enough. We’ll try to communicate via radio first, with no threat. If we get a reasonable response, there will be no threat. If we get no response, however, we shall prepare the explosive device.” Kemp seemed very pleased with his compromise.

  “That’s an excellent idea,” Kate said. “You really haven’t lost it, have you, Phineas?”

  Kemp smiled grimly. “Let’s hope not, Kate. If I have, then we’re all lost.”

  They drove on, negotiating a hilly area.

  After consulting the directional readout for navigation, Kemp directed Kate Ennis to take a turn around a very large boulder. Only a few more miles, he noted. A few more miles, a few more minutes, and we can start getting this thing together, start hauling our nuts out of the fire.

  “Oh my God!” yelled Kate as she completed a turn.

  Standing directly in their paths was a triceratops.

  Frantically Kate Ennis hauled on the wheel, and the OTV skimmed over two large rocks.

  “Watch out!” Kemp cried.

  The wheel was wrenched from the woman’s hand as the triceratops instinctively charged, striking the side of the boulder hard.

  The last thing Kemp heard was Becky’s scream, and then he was thrown into darkness.

  “MISHIMA!” called a voice. “Mishima Takamura!”

  The man felt as though he were being summoned from the depths of the dead. Bits and pieces of his consciousness seemed to materialize from nowhere and to collect into a face. A woman’s face, blurry,

  “Becky?” he mumbled. His firstborn thoughts were for Becky, naked and offguard.

  Imaginary brunette changed to blonde the moment before the woman spoke, and he knew it wasn’t Rebecca Thalberg. “Mishima. It’s Mikaela. Mikaela Lindstrom.” The soft lines of her face flowed into recognizable form, and the bright blue of her eyes stared down at him sympathetically.

  His awareness instantly snapped to his attention. He sat up and he looked around. “Where are we?” he asked immediately, though the question was more rhetorical than anything else. They were clearly
in some sort of room, and clearly there were other inhabitants. Mishima focused and recognized them: Dr. Robert Jakes, James Barkham, and the Saurian known as Thesaurus.

  They all seemed as perplexed as he was and they all looked as though they’d just regained consciousness as well.

  “I don’t know,” said Dr, Jakes. “We could be on the alien ship, we could be on a planet. There’s no telling how long we’ve been out.”

  The room was rectangular, about ten meters long, four high, and six deep. The walls were a beige alloy of some sort, as were the ceiling and the floor. There was no sign of a door.

  Fully one half of the room was occupied by the couch-like expanse that they lay or sat on. It was a dark grey, with patches of white and black, and it was covered in an oddly pliant fabric.

  “What ... what happened?” Mishima said, rubbing his head.

  “That’s right. You were one of the first the things took out. Well, they stunned us all,” said Barkham. “And they hauled us away. Seems obvious enough.” He sat morosely in a corner, as though awaiting execution.

  “No, you are not correct.” Thesaurus said through his digital translator device. “I saw a vehicle depart. Someone escaped.”

  “As though that will do them any good,” said Mikaela. “They’ll get caught as well, soon enough.”

  “Well, we weren’t killed. There’s a plus,” said Jakes. “And they’ve allowed us company. They probably don’t know what to make of us yet. They want to study us.”

  “I don’t understand,” said Mishima. “Why didn’t they even try to communicate?”

  Barkham shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe their policy is to stun first and ask questions later. It’s difficult to say when you’re dealing with aliens. And of course that’s not exactly something that we do every day, now is it?”

  Mishima shook his head to relieve himself of his grogginess. The last-remembered images shot through his head: the floating alien-bubbles, the streams of energy, the feeling of being hit by a very large truck. “So I guess we’ll just have to sit and wait for their next move.”