by K. D. Mattis
Asher laughed and threw the bear in her dad’s lap. “That was cheesy then, and it’s cheesy now.”
“Maybe, but you stopped crying for a minute.”
Stepping over to the bed, Asher sat beside her dad. “I did. I remember that well. It’s a good memory.”
“I think so too.”
Once more grabbing the bear, Asher gave it a hug and tossed it back in the pile. “The memory’s the best part, and I don’t need a bear to remind me of that.”
After several seconds of silence, Asher pushed her dad on the shoulder. “Hey, how about a new memory? Want to set up the telescope for old-time’s sake?”
A crack of thunder and lightning lit up the room.
“I guess not,” Asher’s dad said. “I’ll fix dinner while you finish up. I’ll be done in about twenty minutes.”
Her dad stood and walked out of the room only to return a moment later. He walked in, knelt, and walked away with the bear.
Asher woke in her office to the sound of alarms blaring. She looked around, unsure of how she got there. It didn’t matter. She knew the alarms, and she knew there was a problem.
Jumping to her feet, Asher flew down the halls in her dress uniform on her way to the command center. She threw open the door and approached the central information desk.
“Sir, the Venus Probe Network has detected a fleet of alien vessels headed our way.”
“I’m sorry,” Asher asked, “but did you say a fleet?”
The person nodded, and Asher looked up at the screens around the room. Most showed nothing but static. Only a few showed anything useful to her. On the largest screen, she saw faint dots of light growing brighter by the second.
“How many ships are in the fleet?”
No one answered. They were all too busy with their work, but Asher could see dozens of dots on the screen with dozens more forming in the background.
Asher looked around desperately. Why was no one talking to her? She needed information and rarely ever needed to ask for it.
“Someone,” she shouted to the room, “I need a status report. What assets do we have available?”
One of the men stood, turned to face Asher, and said, “Sir, Ambassador Station is preparing all weapon systems. The Protector and Explorer are already in the air. The Stalingrad is deploying fighters.”
“Your face…” Asher whispered.
“The lunar colony confirmed that they are preparing to launch missiles, but they want to wait until the alien vessels are closer. They want to ensure the aliens can’t maneuver out of the way. Twenty seconds until the ships reach effective missile range.”
She tried to focus, but Asher couldn’t take her eyes off the man’s face. His eyes, nose, and mouth were all missing, replaced with a swirl of burnt flesh.
“Sir, the aliens will be in range in ten seconds.”
“Ten seconds,” Asher whispered. “How are they moving that fast?”
Another man stepped forward and thrust a stack of papers into Asher’s hands. “Admiral, the Chinese colony has attempted to open fire, but they’re facing problems. The targeting system won’t work.”
Shaking her head violently, hoping to clear her mind, Asher said, “Have them fire the railguns.”
“Installation isn’t complete, sir. They were waiting for the completion of the space elevator to ship the necessary parts. They’re too heavy to lift with a traditional shuttle.”
Asher looked at the screen. Three ships from the Earth Defense Initiative moved forward and fired everything they had at the enemy ships, but they barely left a dent. A blast erupted from the back of the Explorer and left it floating helplessly.
“What just happened?” Asher asked.
“We’re not sure, Admiral,” answered another faceless person. “The blast came from within the ship.”
The alien ships grew larger on the screen, and even more approached. The ships in the first batch opened fire and left Asher to watch helplessly as their energy-based weapons cut the Explorer and Protector into thousands of pieces. Then they flew right past the debris before plowing through the Stalingrad and firing on Ambassador Station.
“What assets do we have available?”
“None, sir. Alien vessels are now entering our atmosphere.”
“This is an invasion fleet,” Asher said.
Several more people surrounded Asher, all with featureless faces, and all asking for orders.
“Sir,” said one of the women while staring at Asher, “the alien vessels are taking position over all major cities across the globe.”
“Why?” Asher asked.
While keeping her eyeless gaze on the admiral, the woman replied, “They’re now releasing Electromagnetic Pulse bombs.”
A pulse of blue energy shot through the command center, knocking out the lights. She knew it wouldn’t work, but Asher tried to activate her tablet to illuminate the room. Just like all electronics after an EMP, it didn’t respond.
Asher felt a hand close to her shoulder. She jumped and scrambled to get away as more hands closed around her. “What’s going on?” she screamed.
Every voice in the room responded unanimously, “The aliens are landing troops. They’re all around you.”
Asher swung her arms wildly, trying to fight back the hands that continued to grab at her, but bodies pushed in, surrounding her and preventing movement. The more she fought, the harder they pushed. They shouted furiously, overwhelming her hearing. They pushed until she stopped breathing. As her mind faded, their shouts came out in loud, rhythmic bursts. Gathering all she had left, Asher closed her eyes and shouted out.
When she opened her eyes again, Asher was glad to see the familiar and safe walls of her childhood home. Thunder cracked, and lightning lit up the room time and time again, but she was safe.
She struggled against her covers. In her thrashing, she managed to constrict them around her body so tightly that she fought to breathe. Tossing them to the floor, she laid out straight on the bed, focused on the rain drumming on the roof, and drifted back to sleep.
11
Harris opened his eyes briefly before slamming them shut.
A garbled voice said something he couldn’t understand. He tried, but the steady screeching of his heart rate monitor overwhelmed his senses. As he pulled into the waking world, a heavy fog faded from his mind.
The first sense to return was that of smell. He took in the sticky-sweet scent of pancakes and syrup alongside the salty hint of bacon. When his stomach rumbled, he noticed general feeling was returning to him.
The voice tried to say something else, but he couldn’t understand it. It still fell flat against the scream of the heart rate monitor. While he managed to open his eyes, he regretted the decision, and blinked, frustrated with the bright lights of the room.
“Robert?”
The voice changed from concern to joy as he looked for the source of the voice.
“Robert?” the voice asked again. “Are you with us?”
Robert opened his mouth, but it didn’t want to cooperate with his commands. He barely managed to mouth the word “water” to anyone who would listen.
Moments later, a hand lifted his head, and a cool liquid entered his mouth. When he stopped to breathe, it ran down his cheeks. He swallowed again, drank some more, then spat and coughed.
“Thank you,” Robert whispered.
“It’s no problem,” said the voice. Robert still couldn’t see the man’s face, but the voice was far too raspy to be that of anyone but an old man. “Are you with us?”
“Barely.”
“What’s your designation?”
“Lieutenant Robert Harris of the United States Space Corps vessel Explorer. Who are you?”
“Good,” said the man. “Never mind who I am for now. We need to evaluate your mental status. You’ve been out for quite some time.”
Harris nodded.
“Robert, do you know what day it is?”
“No.”
; “What’s the last thing you remember?”
Harris slammed his eyes closed again and managed to swing his arms up, so he could rub his temples.
“Robert, I need you to focus.”
“Can’t we do this another time? I’m tired, and I’m in pain.”
The voice turned stern. “No. It has to be done now. What’s the last thing you remember?”
Placing one of his hands on his chest, Harris used the other to remove the intravenous needle. It left a trail of clear liquid in its wake as it dropped to the side of the bed.
“I’m hungry,” Harris said. “I can smell the food. How long has it been since I’ve had anything real to eat?”
The man stuck several instruments on different parts of Harris’s body. “There will be time for food later. Right now, I need to evaluate your mental status. Again, what’s the last thing you remember?”
“Come on!” Harris shouted. “I’ve been tied to machines for what? Months? You can’t bring food in here and then try to tell me I can’t have any. I’m starving. This must be against some protocol. I’m not some rat you can make jump through your hoops, all right?”
The more Harris talked, the more his vision and hearing returned. When the man still refused to bring him the plate of food, he spoke some more.
“You want to know what I remember?” Harris threw the blanket off his body. “I remember some stupid parasite jumping through the hull of my ship and into my brain. It decided to make itself nice and comfortable and take over my body, refusing to let me have any control. Exactly like you’re doing now. So, tell me, doctor, what makes you different than the parasite?”
“I don’t think you’ll like the answer.”
Harris bolted up, furious. He grabbed the doctor by his shirt collar and pulled him close. Just before he started shouting, his eyes managed to focus.
“Grandpa?”
“Not exactly.”
Furious and confused, Harris threw the man into some metal cabinets. He was more confused when the impact made no noise. Harris leaped to his feet, but his legs refused to cooperate. He collapsed onto the ground. The man reached down to help him, but he waved the hand away.
“You better explain,” Harris growled.
The man wrung his hands and paced at the foot of the hospital bed. “Well, that might be a problem if you keep acting like this. I was hoping you’d be a bit more…rational.”
Harris kicked at the man, but to no effect. He didn’t even flinch.
“Who do I look like, Robert?”
“My grandfather.”
“Right. What did your grandfather always cook for you when you visited?”
“Pancakes and bacon.”
The man clapped his hands together in delight. “Precisely. Now we’re getting somewhere. So, what’s the problem?”
“My grandfather died ten years ago.”
Bowing his head, the man said, “That he did, and I’m sorry for that. I’m sure this all seems very cruel to you, but it was necessary.”
“What was?” Harris asked, with the anger clear in his voice.
“Ah, see, I had access to your thoughts and memories. While I was there, I wanted to know who you would find most comforting if you woke up in the hospital. The answer was your grandfather. I wanted to minimize the trauma of waking you and explaining what’s going on, but it seems I failed at that.”
Harris pushed himself up on the bed. “Yeah, it does. So, what are you?”
“Think about it, Robert. You can put this together.”
As he thought about it, Harris let his muscles go limp, and he fell to the floor once more. “You’re the parasite in my brain?”
“Well, I find the term parasite to be a bit offensive, but it is technically correct.”
Shaking his head, Harris propped himself up once more. “I don’t care if you find it offensive. Are you still in my head?”
“Of course. What you see is just a projection I’ve made for you. I didn’t think you’d be comfortable talking to yourself. If you are, it’s an easy change.”
The man disappeared.
“Don’t do that,” Harris said. It’s creepy enough knowing what you are. I like the idea of being able to see you.”
The man reappeared. “I know. You don’t like talking to yourself. It makes you feel like you’re insane.”
Harris lowered his eyebrows. “How did you know that?”
“Really?”
“Right.” Harris shook his head. “The whole ‘in my head’ thing.” Looking to the supply cabinets, Harris said, “So why are you talking to me?”
“We need each other. I need your help, and you need mine.”
“What are you?” Harris asked.
“An alien and a weapon. I’m designed to deliver messages and take control of and disable high-ranking officials on enemy ships. When your commanding officer shocked you after I tried to implant myself in your head, she disrupted the transfer. I couldn’t complete it, and now my brain is now effectively merged with yours.”
“Ah,” Harris said, nodding. “And I guess I’m supposed to feel bad for you? Your ships attacked ours first.”
“They’re not my ships. They don’t even belong to my people. My people are a symbiotic race captured by the Culdarians and turned into slaves. You would call the process brainwashing.”
“Culdarians?”
The Symbiant laughed. “The name sounds so odd coming from your high-pitched voices. They’re the aliens attacking you. I showed you their images before. Do you remember any of that?”
“Not really, no. Flashes, maybe, but nothing more. Even still, if you’re not one of the aliens that attacked us, you’re still one of their weapons. How can I trust you?”
“Robert, get in the bed and lie down. Pretend to be asleep.”
“What?”
“Do it. Now.”
Harris scrambled to get back into bed and cover himself. Thinking quickly, he reached over the side of the bed and grabbed the intravenous needle. He placed it over the back of one hand and covered it with the other.
A doctor entered the room, checked Harris’s vitals, and then pulled a new fluid bag from the medicine cabinet. He removed the old bag, replaced it with the new one, and looked hard at Harris.
“That should keep you out a while longer,” the doctor said as he signed a form at the end of Harris’s bed. On his way out the door, he paused to look around the room. Unable to see anything out of the ordinary, he turned and left.
Harris threw the needle away and jumped up. “What was that about?”
The Symbiant’s image appeared again. “I’m not sure. He’s done that every day since you got here. What does the bag say?”
Pulling the bag from its hook, Harris looked for anything that could tell him what was in the bag. “I don’t know. It’s not labeled.” He threw the bag in the trash. A second later, he thought better of it and took the bag with him.
“Do you trust me?” the Symbiant asked.
“Not at all.”
“Yeah, I can’t blame you for that. What do we do?”
Searching the cabinets for some clothing, the pilot settled for a larger hospital gown. “I don’t trust that guy either, and he’s an immediate threat to me. Can we get out of here?”
The Symbiant laughed before disappearing. “You tell me. Can a Space Corps officer that’s not officially detained escape from a Space Corps facility?”
Harris nodded and stumbled for the door.
12
With a loud crack from the sky, the window shattered. The fierce winds threw glass all over the bed, biting into Asher’s skin. Shouting out in pain, Asher jumped to her feet. She tried to make sense of her surroundings, but the rain flying into the room and soaking her skin stole her focus.
After pounding on the door, Asher’s father struggled against the wind to open the door.
“Come on!” he shouted as he grabbed his daughter’s hand.
Still dazed, Asher asked, “What’s g
oing on?”
“The tornado sirens are going off. We need to get downstairs.”
The pair hurried down to the first floor and into the storage closet under the staircase. Once inside, Asher struggled to sit down. Her hands trembled as she tried to rub the last bit of drowsiness from her eyes. Her father fumbled in the dark through a stack of boxes. After a few minutes, he tapped something in his hands and clicked a button. The light from an old flashlight lit the ceiling before turning onto Asher.
“You’re hurt.”
“I’m fine.”
“Kayla, you’re cut all over the place. What happened?”
Sighing, Asher looked over her wounds. Seeing the cuts over her body made her more aware of the pain, and she let out a groan.
“It was the window,” Asher said. “I don’t know if something hit it, or if it gave out because of the wind, but it shattered. I guess we won’t be donating my stuff after all. The rain will ruin most of it.”
Asher’s father frowned and reached out to lift his daughter’s chin. “You’re bleeding, and you’re worried about some donations? We have more important stuff to worry about.”
“I’m fine.”
“No, you’re not.”
Though she now felt wide-awake, Asher couldn’t fight the urge to stretch. “I will be.”
“How do you feel?”
Dropping her hands, Asher glared at her father. “I was just woken up by a storm that busted my window and cut me up. How do you think I feel?” After a pause, Asher said, “I feel fantastic.”
The storm continued with the winds howling for several minutes before Asher suddenly stood.
“Where are you going?”
“Dad, how long has it been raining?”
He shook his head. “I don’t know. A few hours.”
“This heavy?”
“More or less. Why?”
Asher ran out of the closet and to the back door. Her dad followed.
“Asher, what are you doing?”
“The turtles. This much rain could flood their enclosure.”
Asher’s dad grabbed a box and met her in the backyard by a wooden enclosure filled with dirt, logs, and an assortment of bowls. Asher handed him turtle after turtle to put in the box. Thankfully, they all made their way to the surface and were easy to find.
