A Beginner's Guide to Invading Earth

by Gerhard Gehrke

  Jeff raised a hand, interrupting him. “Hurry!” Jeff said.

  More metal tearing from the door. Oliop went back to work. A fizz and a pop from the elevator. A burning smell filled the air.

  “Is there anything I can do?” Jeff asked. “Anything at all?”

  “It's complicated,” Oliop said.

  “Can you explain it while you work?” Jeff asked.

  “Of course I can,” Oliop said and started to turn to Jeff with a smile.

  “Then keep working and explain the problem.”

  “The elevator is hooked up to the conduit,” Oliop said. “That's the central power source. It's also the system that the elevators all travel through. But when I turned this elevator on, one or another of its subsystems switches off. I can't get all of them to stay on at the same time.”

  The elevator's control panel lit up with orange lights. Oliop reached into an open panel and turned something. An electric crackle erupted from behind one the elevator's walls and the panel went dead.

  “See?” Oliop said.

  “What happens when you shut it all down,” Jeff asked. “And then reboot the entire thing?”

  Oliop looked at him and furrowed his brow. His mustache twitched. “Thought I tried that,” he said softly. He dove into the guts of the elevator's innards with pliers in either hand. Click and click. Ping! The elevator winked once and came to life, its insides a light show of yellows and orange.

  More of the garage door tore away. With a clang, Whistle dropped a chunk of metal somewhere outside and stepped through the jagged opening. With her body, she pushed upward, and the hole bent enough to let her all the way in.

  “Power the elevator down,” Whistle said.

  Oliop grabbed Jeff's arm and pulled him inside the elevator's small interior. Whistle headed towards them, shouting, her footfalls hammering as she approached. The door slid shut.

  “Do I need to strap in or hang on?” Jeff asked.

  “Not really,” Oliop said. He hit a few buttons. They went somewhere else.

  ***

  Whistle waited inside the garage. She stood motionless, her tiny lit eyes not betraying her trance-like state. With the elevator's departure, the garage was gloomy except for the glowing powered cables against the one wall and a pair of weak lights overhead. Faint hums reverberated from machines active within the complex and behind the walls.

  “Wake up,” the Head Grey said.

  It stepped through the wrecked door and walked to where the elevator once stood. Whistle stirred and followed the Grey.

  “Clever,” the Grey said. It moved about Oliop's workspace. “Clever. Clever.” It examined the tools and the plug-ins to the glowing parts of the wall.

  “They're gone,” Whistle said. “Why are you not more upset?”

  “Because for all the Commons knows,” the Grey said, “Jeff Abel is still on the loose somewhere. I didn't think Oliop would surprise me like this or go to such great lengths to help the human. But Jeff Abel's escape is just an inconvenience that we'll handle.”

  “Where did they go?”

  “Back to Earth, I'd surmise,” the Grey said. “I'll confirm that soon enough.”

  The Grey found a panel in the wall. It examined it, checked it with a small device from his own tool belt. The Grey switched the panel off. It then moved to a metal box from which many power cables ran. The box was festooned with faded, dirty labels in every imaginable symbol and language, all communicating the order to keep out and not to touch anything inside. The Grey opened the box. With a small torch from one of the workbenches, the Grey melted down the box's interior. Sparks flew and flashed, and then the cables on the wall went dark.

  “And now their elevator is not only off the grid,” the Grey said, “but severed from it. If they were headed to the human world, they'll be stuck there until we retrieve them.”

  Whistle watched monolithically.

  “But first we must carry out the next step,” the Grey said.

  The Grey activated its com device. The three Frizzin that had called the Grey earlier answered.

  “Please come down to the elevator terminal, maintenance level, hallway 34, unit 6,” the Grey said. “Help us to identify the suspect. And receive your accolades.”

  “We're coming down now,” one of the Frizzin said.

  “When they get here,” the Grey said, “you know what to do.”

  Whistle moved into the darkness near the bent and torn door and waited.

  CHAPTER 22

  THE CRAMPED ELEVATOR didn't have windows. Jeff worried that there would only be enough air for a few hours. Maybe they should have taken their chances with Whistle rather than suffocating in this closet-sized box capable of travel through space without the side-benefit of a view, a machine held together with spare parts.

  “Is this thing safe?” Jeff asked. “And how long-”

  “We're already here,” Oliop said. “At least, I hope so.”

  Oliop opened the door. The elevator rested by the rocks near the pond on the property of the Miwok Road School. Jeff stepped out and into a perfect, mild mid-afternoon in Ross County, California. He got down on a knee and touched the sandy dirt to make sure it was actually there.

  Oliop removed a card from the main control panel and followed Jeff out of the elevator.

  “Can they follow us?” Jeff asked.

  “Of course,” Oliop said. “But not with this elevator. It will take them time, and then they would have to track us.”

  “And hopefully by then, we'll be long gone, right?”

  “Yup,” Oliop said.

  “So it's daytime,” Jeff said. “How long were we gone? Is there a difference in time back where we came from?”

  “Good question, Jeff Abel. No noticeable difference, and we lost zero time in the journey.”

  “Well, for what it's worth, welcome to Earth.”

  They walked towards the buildings on the property. It was Oliop's turn to stare at the scenery, cooing at the scrub jays that squawked as he and Jeff passed underneath some oak trees. Even the grasshoppers and flies caught his attention. Jeff didn't hurry him along.

  “I haven't been on a natural world for so long,” Oliop said.

  “As in there are 'unnatural' worlds?” Jeff asked.

  “Most are terraformed or customized by a species trying to impress the Galactic Commons. Many get access to planet morphing tech and start to change things. This is all so...raw.”

  “It is nice here,” Jeff said, “but humans have done their share of messing with the world.”

  They rounded the barn. Jeff grabbed Oliop and ducked down behind a compost bin. Mr. Kim's silver Mercedes was parked by the caretaker's apartment. Voices, indistinct, came from somewhere nearby.

  “Someone's here,” Jeff said.

  “Someone you know?” Oliop asked.

  “I think so. But he's usually alone. I'll go talk to him. You wait here.”

  Oliop grabbed his arm. “Wait,” he said.

  Jeff waited. Three people came out of his apartment. One was the owner, Min-su Kim. He was walking erect, his earlier back pains evidently having subsided. The two others, one man and one woman, both white, wore dark clothes and sunglasses. Jeff had never seen them before. Parents maybe? Investors? And why were they inside his apartment? The owner wore sunglasses, too, which was something Jeff hadn't seen before. The three spoke with one another, leaning in close with their heads almost touching. Then they walked together towards the main part of the campus.

  “You know them?” Oliop asked.

  “One of them,” Jeff said. “It's Mr. Kim, the school's owner. But the other two, no. And they all seem very chummy. Weird. Maybe he has new faculty he's showing around.”

  The three were now out of sight.

  “Maybe we should do this quietly,” Jeff said.

  “We'll do our scan and go,” Oliop said.

  They moved to the back side of the caretaker's apartment. Jeff didn't see nor hear the owner or his compa
nions. He gave Oliop a nod. Oliop jumped up to a half-open bathroom window, reached inside, and turned a crank. The window opened wide, and he slipped inside.

  The window was low enough that Jeff could look in. Oliop was in the bathroom, examining everything. He turned on the faucet. He flushed. He pulled the shower curtain closed and opened it again. His tail probed the shampoo bottle and the bar of soap sitting on a shelf in the shower.

  “Is this part of your scan?” Jeff asked.

  “No,” Oliop said. “Just looking.”

  Oliop found the medicine cabinet and took the items out and placed them on the counter by the sink.

  “Do what you have to and let's go,” Jeff said. “Don't mess with my stuff.”

  Oliop turned on the electric razor. It buzzed. Oliop laughed, turned it off. Then on. Then off.

  “Oliop,” Jeff said.

  “Sorry,” Oliop said. He put the electric razor down. “You have a sleep room? That would be the best place to check.”

  “Through the door,” Jeff said.

  Oliop went through the door and out of sight. Jeff heard the click of another door. Something dropped to the floor with a clatter. Then something else fell. Some beeps from the microwave. Oliop oohing in approval.

  “That's the kitchen,” Jeff hissed.

  Silence from inside. A moment passed.

  “Oliop?” Jeff whispered.

  More silence. Jeff stuck his head inside but couldn't see past the bathroom door.

  “Where are you?” Jeff said.

  Someone grabbed Jeff by the arm. It was Mr. Kim, the school's owner. Jeff hadn't heard him approach, but he was there, just like that.

  “There you are,” Kim said. “Where have you been?”

  “Hi, Mr. Kim,” Jeff said.

  Kim's grip was tight, and he didn't let go.

  “What are you up to, Mr. Abel?” Kim said.

  Jeff struggled in vain to free himself from Kim's grip. He wasn't weak, and Kim had never been strong. Was this the owner with the soft hands and the limp handshake and the bad back?

  “Let go, please,” Jeff said.

  Kim didn't let go. Jeff kicked him in the knee. Kim didn't scream or grunt, but merely smiled. His grip increased, and he pushed Jeff down to the dirt.

  “You have proven most troublesome,” Kim said.

  He smiled a toothy smile, his eyes hidden behind the sunglasses. Jeff was in too much pain to argue. From the window, Oliop appeared. He jumped onto Mr. Kim.

  “Let him go!” Oliop said.

  He pulled the staple gun from his tool belt and began to strike Mr. Kim on his head. The blows landed weakly. Kim swatted at Oliop with one arm while still keeping his vice-like grip on Jeff.

  “Stop this foolishness,” Kim said.

  Oliop remained a slippery flurry of movement, his tail, arms and staple gun slapping at Mr. Kim. Mr. Kim pulled an unseen hand weapon from his belt, a firearm of some sort. Before he could bring it up, Oliop clicked Jeff's staple gun.

  “Ow!” Kim said.

  Oliop had stapled Kim's head. Mr. Kim raised his own gun. Oliop clicked a few more times. Mr. Kim screamed, let go of Jeff, and dropped his weapon. Oliop stapled him one more time before bouncing off. He took Jeff by the hand, and they ran.

  More shouts from behind. Jeff looked back and saw that the strange man and woman were at Mr. Kim's side. Then all three gave chase.

  “Did you get it?” Jeff asked as they ran.

  “I scanned what I could,” Oliop said. “I don't know what I got, though. I like your place.”

  “I noticed.”

  They hurried up the hill, pushing through the grass and weeds. The three pursuers followed close behind. Oliop and Jeff ran up to the front of the elevator.

  “How fast can you make this work?” Jeff asked.

  “Real fast,” Oliop said.

  Oliop hit a button on his wrist device. The elevator jumped to life. Then a large spark moved like ball lightning down its front, top to bottom, skating along the elevator's surface like a rain drop in a big hurry. And with a red flash, the elevator disappeared. A swirl of dust filled the void where the cube once stood. Grass, once bent, straightened. The elevator stayed gone as Oliop frantically pecked at his wrist device, to no avail.

  Jeff stared numbly at the empty space as the three pursuers caught up with them. Mr. Kim smiled. His skin stretched and tore around the staples stuck in his head. No blood flowed from the wounds. The skin hung ragged in places, revealing something underneath that wasn't Mr. Kim, nor even very human.

  CHAPTER 23

  WHATEVER WRIGGLED UNDER Mr. Kim's human skin stayed hidden as he directed his accomplices to take Jeff and Oliop back to the school. The man and woman in sunglasses and dark suits marched them along, giving a push whenever Jeff hesitated. Mr. Kim followed. Jeff looked to Oliop for some kind of cue, but Oliop missed every furtive look and gesture. It was as if Oliop was somewhere else, his lips were moving, but he didn't speak, as if the hairy technician was working out a math problem in his head. Oliop occasionally sniffed the air. Jeff sniffed, too, but didn't smell anything.

  Their captors put them into the barn's washing stall. Jeff had recently cleaned the gratings and drains and refitted the hoses to the old washing boom so they no longer leaked. If horses ever were to return to the Miwok Road School, the barn was up and ready. The two sunglass-wearing thugs blocked them in. Mr. Kim stood just outside the stall and took off his glasses and coat.

  “That hurt,” Mr. Kim said.

  His fingers went to the staples imbedded in his head. He pulled them out one by one. Parts of his torn human skin proved fragile, pulling with the staples like tissue paper.

  Oliop closed his eyes and smelled the air. He leaned towards Mr. Kim. One of Mr. Kim's associates pushed him back.

  “Something smells familiar,” Oliop said, his nose twitching.

  “I don't smell anything,” Jeff said. “Mr. Kim, or whoever you are, what do you want with us?”

  “So familiar,” Oliop said. “Not good.” He frowned as if trying to remember something.

  “Would you like a closer examination?” Mr. Kim asked. He stepped close behind his two associates.

  “Not necessary,” Jeff said. “Oliop, back off.”

  Mr. Kim raised a hand. With his other hand he zipped open an invisible seam around the raised wrist and pulled back the skin as if it were a glove. Underneath were two separate, pointed appendages with tufts of hair at the tips. Mr. Kim presented one of the limbs for Oliop's consideration.

  “Smelled this before,” Oliop said and recoiled at closer examination.

  “Doubt that,” Mr. Kim said.

  “No, I did,” Oliop said. “Scent cyclopedia.”

  “The Galactic Commons has us on record, does it?” Mr. Kim asked. “I would have suspected we were classified.” He turned the two exposed monster limbs as if to admire them.

  “You were,” Oliop said. “I faked clearance.”

  “Clever creature.”

  Jeff couldn't stop staring at the peeled skin hanging around the two pointy limbs. “Where's Mr. Kim? And what are you?”

  “They're Bunnie,” Oliop said.

  Mr. Kim found other seams, zipped, and peeled the rest of his human skin off. Sixteen slender limbs in total flexed and stretched, some of them reaching close to the upper beams of the barn, each with multiple joints. The center of Not-Kim was a mass of hairy flesh with jagged mandibles and two sets of bejeweled eyes on either side of his head. He stepped between the two guards and into the stall. Oliop and Jeff retreated back to the wall to avoid touching the thing that now crowded in with them in the confined space. Oliop latched onto Jeff's right arm, cutting off the circulation. Jeff's breath caught in his throat. He looked around for a way out, but there was none in the cramped stall. As Not-Kim passed the two guards, they ran their hands on their boss's spiny-haired skin and grinned.

  “That's no bunny,” Jeff said, his back to the barn wall, his arm numb.

  “B
unnie,” Oliop said, his grip on Jeff tightening. “Species with some physical characteristics like your arachnid. Big, isn't he?”

  “Looks like two spiders glued to one another,” Jeff said. He swallowed hard, fighting against a dry mouth. To Not-Kim, Jeff said, “What do you want? You didn't go through all this trouble to just eat us.”

  “Don't be disgusting,” Not-Kim said. “I'd as soon eat you as you'd eat one of my kind.”

  Jeff had eaten fried tarantula when he and his wife had traveled through Saigon on their honeymoon. It wasn't terrible. He didn't mention it to Not-Kim.

  “The Grey,” Not-Kim said. “Contact him. Bring him here.” He leaned close to Jeff and Oliop. Dozens of reflections stared back at Jeff from the Bunnie's shiny eyes. His mandibles moved and made small snapping sounds even when he wasn't speaking.

  Oliop gulped. “We can't,” he said.

  A pair of spidery limbs caught Oliop around the throat and lifted him up. Oliop squirmed but was held fast. Jeff grabbed one of Not-Kim's arms and pulled, but it didn't budge.

  “We're not in contact with the Grey, assuming we're talking about the same one,” Jeff said. “He's the one who kidnapped me and is now out to get the both of us.”

  “Contact him,” Not-Kim said again, ignoring Jeff.

  He began to squeeze. Oliop pounded on the hairy limbs that held him.

  “Listen, Kim,” Jeff said. “Or Bunnie, or whoever you are, put him down. We don't have a phone or com device or Grey hotline. That little bugger wants to kill me. And from what I saw, our ride back to the Galactic Commons went away, so we're cut off.”

  Not-Kim motioned one of the guards forward. The woman pulled a bulky grey scanning device from inside her coat and gave both Jeff and the gasping Oliop a once over. Her device looked odd, quite a bit cruder than anything Jeff had seen Oliop use. The guard took Oliop's null-space tool belt off of him and examined the contents.

  “No beacon,” she said. “And no communicator.”

  Not-Kim dropped Oliop. Oliop gasped and rubbed his throat. Jeff pulled him back away from the Bunnie.