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A Beginner's Guide to Invading Earth

Page 32

by Gerhard Gehrke


  She accessed a wall info pad in a recessed alcove of a transit station. The station itself was empty. The cars that ran the monorail tracks sat idle. Her fingers pecked slowly and deliberately at the pad as to not break it. Many species had implants or clothes-imbedded info devices to keep up with the news, but not Whistle. She browsed the main story of Bunnie Invasion Thwarted. She didn't read about anything that she hadn't lived through. Under a heading that read Commons Citizen Detained, she saw a picture of the Head Grey smirking at the camera.

  “Irving?” she said as she read the name of the suspect. She hadn't known the Grey's name and hadn't ever asked. “Hmmm.”

  That was a direction to go. The Grey would know what to do. Whistle could wait for the heat to die down. Attention spans were limited even during the worst emergencies. Even the security bots would prove to be no physical challenge to her, easily crushed before they could get off a shot with their puny stunners. With all of the security glitches and translator problems, the Grey might even now be accessible to a determined individual.

  She left the data pad and headed down a pedestrian tunnel that would take her in the direction of the security building's basement levels. She passed a crew of three maintenance workers puttering along in a grav cart with some sewer-line bots loaded on it. If the crew saw her, they ignored her. Maybe no one was even looking. They were the last people she saw down in the lower levels. Now it was just her.

  Farther along towards the security building, the corridor before her grew dimmer and dimmer as if some of the lighting had been disabled. That suited her just fine. The darker the better. She heaved a sigh of relief as she entered the darkness. It reminded her of home.

  “Negative phototaxis,” came a whisper.

  Maybe it was the air moving. Automated systems would force wind through certain hallways as needed to break up pockets of bad air or to disperse heat. And in the lower levels, bad air could build up quickly.

  Again the whisper, “Negative phototaxis. So predictable.”

  “And she seeks the Grey,” said another whisper. “As expected.”

  She couldn't make out the direction of where the voices were coming from. So soft. So familiar. But there, ahead of her, something scurried. Three somethings, small and fast.

  “Frizzin,” she muttered and marched forward, her two eyes shining bright like lasers.

  The three low, scurrying shapes went around a corner. Whistle followed the trio into a narrow hallway. The three were just ahead, moving quick. They ran under and behind something big. Whatever it was huffed when it saw Whistle. Then it trumpeted and bared its fangs.

  It was the carnivorous elephant-like creature from earlier. The species didn't have a particularly good memory. The Frizzin must have paid it off to be here, reminded it of the thumping Whistle had given it during the chaos of the evacuation. It charged.

  Whistle hunkered low and tensed her muscles. She braced to meet this thing head-on. After not catching up to Grey before the Bunnie all showed up, she was in the mood for a fight. Then, from behind, came the whisper, “So predictable.” The elephant halted its advance just outside of Whistle's reach.

  Whistle heard a soft crackling sound like blowing leaves. A squad of Clyptus fell upon her from an unseen alcove, stabbing with their tiny darts. Their memory proved most excellent as they knew exactly where to strike. Their fallen Captain's records, along with his final memories, had all come home with the ship the Grey had hijacked. She managed to knock a few of them about, but they were everywhere. Whistle felt numbness creep up from her lower half. The Clyptus withdrew just as the elephant crashed into her, all to the squeaky cheers of the Frizzin, who, although a bit poorer, were starting to cheer up.

  ***

  Jordan and Jeff took their breakfast on the balcony of a restaurant that overlooked one of the central zones of the Commons. They had a view of a series of dynamic towers and spires that glowed in the orange light of the dawn. Only the cook and one other creature were there to staff the place, but the two humans were their only customers. Not everything ate garbage in the Commons. The aroma of baking bread filled the air.

  Jeff rubbed his eyes. The smell of food trumped the need to sleep.

  They started off being served a variety of fruits and some kind of industrial-strength tea that made Jeff's head swim. Interspecies menus included a quick DNA test for tolerances, so nothing that Jeff and Jordan could order would make them sick, puff up, or die. The fruit was delicious.

  Their waiter brought them plates of what looked like bacon and eggs, all generated from ethically sound bioprinters and cooked to perfection. A plate of steaming muffins filled with nuts and fruit followed.

  Jordan looked at the food, at Jeff, at the city beyond the railings. She started to laugh.

  “Surreal, isn't it?” he said.

  “Who will ever believe this?” she said.

  “Plenty of people after today. Earth just got a double handful of unwilling alien ambassadors.” He tried a piece of the bacon. Crisp, seared edges. Salty.

  “Won't the government grab them?”

  “Might be a lot of creatures to grab. It might be thousands of aliens showing up somewhere in the middle of California, or wherever the Bunnie staging area was.”

  “I'm worried for them, though. They don't have any weapons. They weren't ready to go to Earth.”

  “We weren't ready to come here, but we survived. Don't sell them short. Besides, once we figure out how to reboot the elevator system, we can bring them back. Oliop said he'd figure it out eventually.”

  She nodded, her fingers tearing a muffin apart on her plate. She picked at the contents, trying each piece, and savoring its flavor. Jeff tried one. The berries within looked different from anything he had ever had before, with multiple nodes of a deep ruby color and a scent of maple syrup. The nuts were strange too: tiny, black, and oily. He took a big bite.

  Eventually, the waiter came around with a datapad. He held it out.

  “So how does this work?” Jordan said in a low tone. “How do we even...you know?” She nodded towards the waiter and their bill.

  Jeff thumbed the datapad. The waiter gave a nod and a slight bow and left them.

  “This one's on me,” Jeff said.

  “But how?”

  “I volunteered for a job. About time we humans pulled our weight around here.”

  ***

  Jordan watched Jeff leave the restaurant. He hadn't explained what his plans were or what he was doing, probably something with the computers. Maybe she'd find out tomorrow. He had looked tired, but she wasn't. Just being here in the city made her feel excited. She wanted to see it all, but only after finishing her tea.

  Oliop had been helpful in finding her a place to rest her head. There was a visitor's dorm, and humans were now part of the approved guest list. Jordan had spent most of the previous night talking to several of the other patrons until exhaustion had caught up with her, and she had fallen asleep on one of the lobby's sofas. She should go back and at least see what her room looked like. But the city lay before her. She picked a direction and walked.

  The city app fed information directly to her head and right eye, and it took some getting used to. A hard blink turned it off, but she left it on. Pertinent data about the city and its residents floated in her view, a HUD like a fighter pilot might have, filling in the blanks of where she was walking and who she met.

  She tried to talk to everyone, but most were busy.

  She walked past the security building where Irving the Grey was still a prisoner. Once the elevators resumed services, the other Greys would take him home. She almost went inside but didn't.

  One visual tag directed her to the sealed vivarium where the Bunnie were being held. She went there. A score of Commons citizens stood around the glassy dome like spectators at a zoo. Inside the dome, a jungle grew. Pink and yellow butterflies floated through the air. She checked the app. Not butterflies, but close enough. Small rodents scurried about through the
dirt and fallen leaves. And in the trees, the Bunnie lounged about or wove their webs between the branches.

  The silvery webbing shined bright. The weavers, with little else do but brood, worked their medium into intricate patterns that, at first, appeared abstract but, upon patient study, revealed a planetscape of what must have been their original home world, with its trees and towers and high cliffs. It reminded her of the paintings hanging inside the Bunnie ship they had hijacked.

  “Who'd have thunk it?” Jordan said. “These guys are artists.”

  One short, jowly creature looked up at her, raised an eye. It had a mop of carrot-orange hair that hung down over two beady black eyes.

  “You're the human,” the creature said with a croak.

  “Guilty,” Jordan said.

  Others in the crowd now noticed her. One raised a device and clicked it in Jordan's direction. So did another.

  The creature with the jowls asked, “May I?” and also took her holoimage, according to her app. It then shook her hand.

  Others in the crowd looked on and said nothing. A couple gave her obvious stink eyes. After a minute, the small crowd broke up. Jordan stayed and watched the Bunnie for a while more when someone grabbed her by the wrist. It was a cold tentacle that came from a tiny cloud with teeth and a single eye. The creature was knee high, with a small gangly knot of other tentacles spread underneath. It didn't let go.

  “Hey, what do you want?” Jordan said. She tugged at the tentacle. It wasn't holding on tight enough to hurt, but the tentacle stretched, and Jordan couldn't get free. The tiny cloud let out a melodic chitter like a bird.

  A larger creature identical to the small one that held onto her approached. A giant vapor cloud obscured all but an upper row of fangs, an eye, and several tentacles. Jordan had seen it before during the panic. Hadn't they literally bumped into one another?

  “As promised,” it said before scooting off.

  “Wait, come back!” Jordan said. As she tried to follow, the tiny creature that clung to her puttered along beside her, slowing her down. Too many other beings were in the way, more locals wanting to see the Bunnie. The big creature in the cloud moved quickly and was soon gone, a vapor trail dissipating behind it. She looked down at the creature on her arm. It warbled some more.

  She checked her app.

  “Congratulations, new parent,” the floating message on her app declared.

  ***

  Jeff found Oliop in the bowels of the main elevator terminal's control room, head and torso inside some machine that resided underneath the floor plates, part of the automation that no living creature had touched in many years. Nothing in the room had power except for a pair of the maintenance-cum-security bots that shined lights down for the technician.

  Oliop pulled himself out of the hole, a pair of pliers in his hands.

  “Flemming said this was a priority,” Jeff said.

  “It is,” Oliop said. “First step is to uncouple the entire elevator network from the probability computer, along with every other system in the Commons. Next will be to install a new framework to allow the system to think for itself, so it can reason through the process of sending an elevator somewhere without doing so blindly, while accounting for random variables inherent to such a task.”

  “Oh, is that all?”

  Oliop nodded solemnly.

  “So why aren't you taking advantage of the hundreds of citizens who volunteered?” Jeff asked. “Some of them must understand this stuff. And where's Fizz? He's supposed to be helping you.”

  Oliop did his nervous fidget. He looked everywhere but at Jeff.

  “Oliop, it's me,” Jeff said. “Tell me what it is.”

  “I can't get them to understand me when I work,” Oliop said. “I like working alone.”

  “Not a translation problem, is it?”

  Oliop shook his head. He fiddled with the pliers.

  Jeff shrugged, smiled, put a hand on Oliop's shoulder. “You're the smartest person here. I'm sure you'll figure out this mess.”

  “You could help me,” Oliop said.

  “I will, when I get some time off,” Jeff said. “But I already have a job.”

  Jeff pulled a small computer from a back pocket. He showed Oliop the screen.

  The top of the screen read, “Protocols and Procedures for Galactic Commons Security Services. Welcome, volunteer! Your service to the Galactic Commons Security Services is greatly appreciated, and your term of service has begun! Please read the enclosed briefing to understand your new responsibilities and, after accepting this assignment, report to the Galactic Commons Security Headquarters. Service is a responsibility and a [non-burdensome opportunity that has zero opportunity for financial advantage].”

  Buzz. Crackle. Jeff tapped at the computer, scrolled past the glitch.

  The document went on for 422 pages. Jeff put the device away.

  Oliop raised an eyebrow. “Some bugs in the translation system still. So much work.”

  “If it was an easy job, everyone would do it.”

  “Is Jordan doing well?”

  “As of this morning. I think she's really enjoying just being here. She's content with exploring the city for now.”

  ***

  Jeff left Oliop to his work. He checked the time. He had an hour still before his first shift. He decided to walk. He took it all in, the different shapes and sounds and smells. Many of the citizens that moved about on the streets paid him no mind. Some gave him a wide berth as if he were contagious. Some nodded, acknowledging him as he passed. Bots whizzed by, ignoring everyone. Public monitors and information tablets blinked the day's news: Humans Inducted in Galactic Commons.

  Maybe Jordan had seen the news, too. His new tablet buzzed, and he saw on the screen it was her.

  “You're not going to believe this,” she said.

  He believed her.

  THE [concluding word with a note of finality]

  AUTHOR'S NOTE

  A big thanks to my editor, Marsha Ziff, for her help and merciless suggestions for improvement. Also, many thanks to the great people at Booktrope. All mistakes herein are my own. And a humble thank you to any who've read this far. All persons portrayed within these pages are fictitious.

  Gerhard Gehrke lives, works, and writes in Northern California. Previous short stories have appeared in several publications, including an Editor's Choice-winning short story at AnotheRealm.com.

  A Beginner's Guide to Invading Earth is his first novel.

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