War of the Worlds 2030

by Stephen B. Pearl

  “I like those aliens already.”

  * * * *

  Upload monitoring/ Richard Green /Index 16:17/ 30/3/2030

  * * * *

  Richard poured over the notes and copies of the diagrams the aliens had sent. “Making this damn thing is the easy part. Understanding it? Gods of my fathers.” Richard looked around his room. It was like a bedsit apartment with an en suite bathroom. A desk and computer filled the wall space by the bathroom door, while a couch that folded out into a bed filled the other wall. A coffee table, office chair and small dresser made up the last of the furnishings.

  The door chime sounded.

  “Enter,” he called.

  “Doctor Green.” General Flanders stepped into the room.

  “Hello general, please take a seat. Would you like me to order some refreshments?” Richard stood and rolled his office chair to a place by the couch.

  The general moved to the couch and sat.

  “No thank you, doctor.”

  “Please, Richard. The only people that call me doctor are students that don’t like me.”

  The general smiled. “In social settings, feel free to call me Andy.”

  “Of course. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

  “You don’t waste time. I respect that. Frankly, I think you, I and Mac are the only ones with any idea about the realities of this situation.”

  “How so?”

  “Your statement that if they’re much more than a century or two ahead of us, we wouldn’t stand a chance.”

  “I meant no offence to the military.”

  “I didn’t take any. Schwarzkopf was one of the few generals in history that understood what his technology could do. We had maybe ten years on the Iranians, and we pounded them. I agree with you. If these boys are out to get us, and they have much of a tech edge, we’re toast.”

  “So what do you want?”

  “How much can you tell about their biology from the information they sent?”

  “Nothing certain. Their appearance, if it hasn’t been altered, would imply some structural similarities to our own, but for all I know, they keep their hearts in their buttocks.”

  “Richard, I’m praying these folks just want to say howdy, but I’m a fighting man. It makes you cynical. Your best guess, what are we facing, and what can we do about it?”

  “Hopefully?”

  “Why not?”

  “If they do have hostile intent, which we cannot say for certain, but if they do. Best case is interstellar travel for them is roughly equivalent to going to Mars for us. We can do it, barely. That means they would have a years long supply line.”

  “Supply line? You serve at some time.”

  “Use to do war gaming back in my student days.”

  “Me to. Go on.”

  “Guessing from the technology. They are centuries ahead of us in biology. Maybe not quite so advanced in chemistry, and possibly even a few years behind us in physics.”

  “Where do you get that?”

  “The computer chip is primitive compared to the rest of the system they sent.”

  “Why would they develop in such a cockeyed way?”

  “To them we might seem cockeyed; way ahead in physics, lagging in chemistry, and woefully lacking in biology. Different cultures might place different emphasis on sciences. You’ve never had to fight for funding. If you pump resources into a science, it advances more quickly.”

  “So we might have an edge in some areas.”

  “If we’re lucky. Look, Andy. I’m playing what if here. I don’t know. You want my advice. Hope to hell they’re friendly. Otherwise we’re up the duff laddy.”

  “Thank you, Richard. Keep me informed about your view of their technology. Admiral MacMillan is, well…Between you and me. He’s an ass-hole!”

  “Oh?”

  “He thinks that you train the big guns on it and fire. He’s too used to being the one with the technological edge. He’s not able to think like the weak force.”

  “You are?”

  “Black-ops training. I learned how dangerous the weak force can be.”

  “I hope it won’t come to that.”

  “So do I. In case it does, let’s spend some weekends together. I think we can teach each other a great deal.”

  * * * *

  Upload monitoring/ Richard Green /Index 13:30/ 12/4/2030

  * * * *

  Richard sat in the small cluttered office the university allowed him and poured over his notes. A knock sounded on his door.

  “Enter,” he called absently.

  “Hi,” said a soft, slightly nasal voice.

  “Ashley.” Richard smiled and stood. He couldn’t stop his eyes from tracing over her slender form. Her red hair brushed her shoulders, framing a pretty face. Gods how can she make a sweater and jeans look so good? Richard behave, she used to baby sit Betty for gods’ sake.

  “Just wanted to check in and make sure you were all right. I heard about the appendectomy.”

  “I’m fine. I’m glad you came. I’ve reviewed your master’s proposal. Take a seat.” Richard shifted a pile of papers off a chair onto the floor.

  “Thanks. What did you think?”

  “It’s a good solid topic. Working on a bio-electric implant to trigger natural lithium absorption in schizophrenics is an excellent idea.”

  “Am I hearing a but?” Ashley’s face fell.

  “In a sense. I need a research assistant for a project I’m starting. What would you say to changing your topic to an examination of how micro-electric charges introduced to the nervous system affects the growth of cancer cells?”

  Ashley stared at him blankly.

  “Well?”

  “I wouldn’t know where to start.”

  Richard closed his office door before passing her several of the sheets of paper he’d been reviewing. “This is between us, Ash.”

  “Richard, what’s going on?”

  “Read those then we’ll talk.” He opened his desk drawer extracting a bottle of scotch. He found a clean mug, perched atop a pile of student papers, poured a shot into it then set the mug by her hand.

  “Goddess! Where did you get this? This can’t be real. It’s like; it’s like giving a kid who just learned addition a sheet on calculus.”

  “I can’t tell you where it came from. I can tell you it is part of a larger picture. I want you to be part of this project.”

  Ashley picked up the mug and downed the scotch. She coughed as it burnt its way to her stomach.

  A minute later she stared at Richard with tears in her eyes and gasped, “You enjoy drinking that stuff?”

  “It’s an acquired taste.”

  “So’s masochism!” She returned her attention to the papers. “This is…Is this for real?”

  “Yes.”

  Ashley stared at the papers again. Only partially understanding what she read. “Funding?”

  “Taken care of.”

  “Gods, Richard, what are you into?”

  “If all goes well, I’ll tell you someday. Are you in?”

  “You betcha mister!”

  “Very good. I’ll take you on for your masters.”

  Ashley sighed. “That is such a relief.”

  “Why?”

  “My other choice was Doctor Robinson.”

  “Edwin may be a prat, but he is a good scientist.” Richard scanned one of the papers on his desk. He needed to do something to keep his eyes from devouring the woman in front of him.

  “He doesn’t respect life. I don’t know why a man like that became a biologist.” She focused her green eyes on her mentor. A little smile played at the corners of her mouth.

  “Ash, he’s typical. I�
��ve seen too many biologists who don’t give a damn about life. Never be like them. Life is what it’s about.”

  “You’re really just an old Druid at heart.”

  Richard smiled. “I do my best.”

  “Why don’t you come to circle anymore?”

  “Janis—”

  ”She’s stopped attending when she and Angus broke up. Betty drops by once in a while, but not often.”

  “Ash, I have to stay in the broom closet. Two more years and I can get tenure. Lest ye forget, the divinity collage is twice the size of the biology department. Gods, we’re lucky we get to teach evolution.”

  “Oh, all right then. I think you’re being silly though. It’s a closed coven. I’ve started writing rituals. I conducted a group meditation last quarter. It went really well.”

  “Sorry I missed it. I’ll be back soon. I still meditate and do the solitaire thing.”

  “Fine, when are we starting the project?”

  “That was the other thing. What are your plans for the summer?”

  “Camp counselor.”

  “Wrong. You’re my research assistant. I think it will pay a bit better than being a camp counselor.”

  “Thank you!” Ashley jumped up and hugged Richard then jerked away and stood by the door looking embarrassed. “Sorry.”

  “Quite all right.” Richard swallowed hard.

  Chapter Three

  Desperate Hope

  Zane followed Janis into her bedroom. The sheets were worn but clean and the windows were covered. An eternal calendar sat on the nightstand marking the date as ‘March 4, 2037’. Janis automatically moved to correct it to ‘March 5, 2037’.

  Zane chuckled at her pragmatism. “I have missed you!” He pulled her to him and kissed her as he ran the fingers of his human hand through her short hair. It felt like silk to him.

  “I love you, Zane. Oh, God, hold me. Just hold me and make it all go away for a little while,” Janis begged when the kiss broke.

  Zane held her tight. His right cheek pressed against the side of her head.

  She ran her fingers over his back and began undoing the clips that secured his armor.

  Zane jerked away and caught her hand. “Better let me, my love. Have a few nasty surprises set up just in case.”

  Zane undid the clips in a specific order, often pausing to remove almost invisible wires as he moved along.

  Janis watched for a few moments then began peeling off her own clothes. She finished first. Zane paused and smiled at her. She was lean and fit, despite her age and the patches of scar tissue that marred her skin. The lines left from a slaver’s whip crisscrossed her back, but a fire in her eyes spoke to the effect that experience had on her. He thought she was beautiful, and in the world he now lived in, she was.

  Janis watched Zane remove the armor and smiled.

  Zane dropped the top of the outfit. His chest was broad and solidly muscled. The right side was almost perfect, just occasional thin scars. The left was covered from shoulder to waist in artificial scar tissue. His left arm was completely encased in the obscuring cosmetic while his left hand consisted of two fingers and a thumb. He dropped his pants. The scars arced away from his genitals then swallowed his left leg. He removed the last piece of clothing and stood before her.

  “Let’s wash up. The Darmuks are still running the pumping station. You can’t drink it, but it tests out clean enough for bathing,” said Janis.

  “As my love commands,” agreed Zane.

  She strode up to him and kissed him gently on the lips. His fingers traced down the line of her spine. Then he pulled her close. His penis rubbed against her mons veneris as he devoured her mouth.

  “Come on, we both stink.” Janis took his hand and led him into the bathroom. They stepped into the tub and she turned on the hot tap. The water warmed by the solar pre-heater on the roof flowed out and they both raced to wet themselves before closing the valve.

  “I dream of taking a real bath with you.” Zane picked up a bar of soap and began rubbing it over Janis’s body.

  “Yes, with hot water and bubbles.”

  “God yes. I’d love to see you in a bubble bath. So sexy.” Zane drew the soap over her breasts and gently massaged her nipples. He then trailed his human hand down to her sex and stroked her clitoris.

  “Hmm, and champagne and strawberries,” added Janis.

  “We’ll have room service bring them to the honeymoon suite.”

  Janis pressed her buttocks against his penis as his fingers played. “Why, Mister Hinkly, is that a proposal?”

  Zane paused in his play and turned her to face him.

  Janis looked into his eye and saw something there she didn’t recognize. After all the battles and fire fights they’d seen together, this was new.

  “If it was, would you say ‘yes’?” he asked.

  “Zane. We…I mean, if we humans win the war…well, wouldn’t you want someone your own age?”

  “No! I want you. The only good thing to come out of this damn war has been I’ve owned up to it. I love you, a few years be damned. Win or lose, I don’t want to give you up.”

  Janis stared at him; shocked to hear thoughts she’d had herself coming from his mouth.

  “Yes,” she said.

  “Yes?”

  “That would be my answer.”

  “I love you, Janis. Marry me?”

  Janis smiled at him. His eye was so earnest and his voice, despite the roughness his injuries lent it, so gentle.

  “I love you too. Yes. Now hurry up before we’re too dry and have to use more warm water.

  Zane kissed her, pulling her close. He soaped her anal cleft and back then built up lather, and rubbed it into her hair.

  “Your turn.” Janis took the soap and played it over his chest, spending extra time where the line of prosthetic attachment and human flesh met. She carefully lifted his penis and scrotum as she soaped them. He grew firm with her touch and when she gripped his penis and gently masturbated him he groaned.

  “Let’s rinse off,” he suggested.

  Janis smiled and turned on the shower.

  They removed the soap and the water was beginning to chill by the time they were finished. Taking a tattered towel from the bar on the door, Zane began to pat dry his love. Her body was warm under his touch and Janis sighed and moaned as he used the drying as an excuse to caress her. She took the towel from him and rubbed it gently over his healthy skin then with vigor over his faked scars.

  “How is it you can make cold metal and plastic feel?” asked Zane, as she left a trail of bites along his left shoulder.

  “The same way you made me feel again.”

  Zane pulled her close; kissing her then picked her up and carried her to the bed. He lay her down at the edge of the bed with her legs hanging over then kissed her ankle.

  “Zane Hinkly, what do you have in mind, young man?” asked Janis in her best mother voice.

  Zane smiled at her, knelt then kissed his way up her leg to her sex. He licked the length of her vaginal slit before taking her clitoris into his mouth and sucking gently.

  “Oh, God—yes, Zane. Just like that,” whispered Janis.

  Zane brought the two fingers of his left hand up and inserted them into her vagina as he continued to suckle her clitoris.

  “Zane…oh, zane. Yes, my love.”

  Reaching up with his good hand he tweaked her nipples and stroked the flesh of her torso.

  “Zane, I want you inside, now. Please!”

  Zane enjoyed the tone of her voice, even if it was kept to a whisper. He stood and positioned himself, feet on the floor, and slipped in. She was moist and warm. He bent kissing her as he began a slow pumping action. Straitening he brought his good hand to her clitoris and toyed with it w
hile allowing the roughened coating on his left hand to scrape gently over her legs.

  “Zane…yes; faster, faster…oww,” moaned Janis.

  Zane clamped his lips shut as he came with her.

  Minutes later they lay on the bed entwined in each other’s arms.

  “I meant it you know,” said Zane.

  “What?”

  “I want to marry you. Richard’s my CO. The war declaration allows him to notarize the documents. He could do it this afternoon.”

  “Zane, this isn’t make-believe, there are real consequences.”

  “I know consequences, Janis. You know my rank. You know I’m not just a scientist. I’ve been in the field. You know how much time I’ve spent behind the lines. I’ve had to send men to their deaths. Believe me, I understand consequences. I’m not the boy who dated your daughter anymore. The one consequence I know I want is you. I want Richard to marry us this afternoon, even if it’s only to sign the papers.”

  “Papers.”

  “I have the license and rings in my pack.”

  “Oh, Zane.” Janis teared up.

  “You said ‘yes’.”

  “I meant it too.” She kissed him, for a moment leaving the war behind.

  Hours later Richard sat on a battered lounger. Janis and Zane sat side by side on her decrepit couch. Zane’s left arm encircled her shoulder. His mechanical fingers making little patterns against the skin of her upper arm.

  Evening light crept past the drawn, tattered curtains and around the boarded over windows.

  Richard straightened from signing the document on the coffee table. “Congratulations. I am happy for you.”

  “Thank you, Richard. It means a lot that my ex can be happy that I’ve moved on,” said Janis. “Now why are you here instead of working up ways to kill those God damn Darmuk bastards?”

  “We’re losing,” said Richard.

  “That simple?”