Mimic's Last Stand

by James David Victor

  “My gun’s about to overheat. I need at least thirty seconds.”

  “No time,” I snapped. “Let it overheat. If we miss this shot, we’re dead anyways.”

  “Geez, no pressure.”

  I punched in the coordinates to him and then lined up my own shot.

  “You ready?”

  “Charged and waiting.”

  “On my mark! Three, two…one…fire!”

  We both let out a full blast and I could immediately tell my systems were unhappy as they jumped up into the red zone all at once. But that didn’t matter. I watched my scanner breathlessly, waiting for the moment that I hoped would happen.

  It would never work in space. Or even at the upper edge of our atmosphere. But since these ships were dealing with planetary entry, all of their shields were diverted to the front and top of their ships as they cut through the air. That left their bottom—where they liked to store their engine and nuclear run-off—completely exposed to a shot.

  Just as I hoped, our combined blast punched straight through one ship, and then another. There was a thunderclap of an explosion and then a third one was swallowed up in the resulting explosion.

  I couldn’t help it—I let out a huge whoop of victory as Ciangi’s voice burst over the comms again.

  “You did it! We have three ships landing. I repeat to all troops, we have three ships landing. Prepare for ground fight!”

  Grabbing my gun, I nearly vaulted out of my bunker and to my designated position at one of the protected firing balconies that we had created and camouflaged.

  Phase two and three were done. Now it was time for the grand finale.

  Hopefully it would be the Harvesters’, and not our own.

  9

  Take it to the Ground

  The wind churned, and large chunks of debris landed all around us, but I steadied myself. Although we had a general idea of where these massive ships would land, they were just that: estimates. I had to wait for them to land before I could point my gun in the right direction, and every second seemed like agony.

  But in reality, it only took a few breaths before they were setting down. Far too hot and heavy, they crashed into the ground more than settled on it, with the thundering sound of crunching metal filling the air and dirt flying everywhere.

  I didn’t let that distract me, though. The most important thing was making sure we took out as many of those aliens as we could when they exited the ship. We wanted those on the actual battleground to have to deal with as few enemies as possible.

  There were smaller booming sounds as the ramps of the ships slammed down and for the tiniest of moments, there was nothing.

  And then the machines came rushing forward.

  I wasn’t surprised. After our little tussle with the attacking things on the first Harvester ship we had snuck onto, we had prepared that they would no doubt have an entire army of the electronic foot soldiers to send out before risking one of their own lives. After that first battle so long ago, they knew better. They knew that we could kill them, so they were trying to mitigate their losses.

  They should have thought of that before they decided to wage war with us then.

  The machines rushed forward, a wave of blinding metals and lights, but that quickly ended as our old fighters—the ones that we had stolen from the research station—flew by and dropped their payloads.

  I knew better than to look directly at the resulting blast, but I could still feel all the hair on my body stand right up. The distinctive sound of an EMP crackling filled our entire sky, followed by the pitter-patter of the machines falling apart, whatever technology that was holding them together losing its grip. Then, after that, a crunching sound as the next wave of robots stepped over their fallen brethren.

  It would take the line of pilots at least five more minutes to load up more bombs and do another pass. We thought of holding back more fighters from our phase three, but that put us at too much of a disadvantage.

  “Fire on the front line!”

  I didn’t need a second order. I aimed my gun and started firing in a thick line across one of the ramps.

  The machines fizzled and popped, one after the other, but there were just so many. They raced forward into the hail of plasma and ionic fire coming from straight ahead and above, thousands of them being ruined but thousands more taking their place. There were so many of them!

  They rushed closer and closer, and just when it seemed like there was going to be first contact with the front line and the barriers there, the fighters flew over again.

  More EMP bombs. More crackling. More robots falling apart. I didn’t let up firing, and neither did anybody else. The world was brimstone and ozone and burnt rubble and melting metal.

  It was cacophony. I could hardly hear anything over the crunching and the thrum of all our weaponry. There was nothing to hear. There was only survival.

  But then the smoke cleared, and the crunching stopped, and we realized that there were no more machines.

  There was something…else, though. A sort of charge in the air that I couldn’t put my finger on. My eyes swept over the mess and the mechanical carnage, wondering if they were reconfiguring themselves or turning into bombs or some other horrific thing, but the pieces stayed dead.

  It seemed that even after all this fighting with us, the aliens still hadn’t learned the power of boobytraps and surprise. Strange. They were relatively intelligent and far more advanced than we were. One would have thought that they would have picked up on it. But they—

  Then Ciangi’s voice cut through the haze. “They’re firing up their shields!”

  “Shields?” someone else murmured. Bahn maybe? I couldn’t tell, it felt like my brain was nutrient paste spread across too much bread. “What could they—”

  But then there was a change of pressure in the air and I could see the faint green charge of a shield rush forward and envelop most of the battlefield.

  “Looks like they finally caught on,” the human beside me murmured.

  But my stomach dropped out and went through the floor. The shield meant no more flyovers with the fighters, and that our landing ships wouldn’t be able to contribute either until their soldiers disembarked. It also meant that all of us that were posted high above, meant to rein down suppressing fire, would no longer be able to help at all.

  No.

  That wouldn’t do at all.

  I looked around, trying to see all the ways I could escape, but they were all too slow. I could see the line of alien foot soldiers marching forward, their own massive guns drawn.

  I grabbed onto the railing with my mimic hand and threw myself over the edge. As I fell down, for the tiniest beat I was afraid I would jolt to a stop with a dislocated shoulder.

  But I didn’t, and instead my arm turned as dark as night, stretching and stretching and stretching. I expected it to hurt. I expected my arm to burn and my strange, mimicky skin to crack and bleed. But that didn’t happen either.

  Instead, I landed on the ground, the force of my fall enough to send me toppling forward into a shoddy sort of roll. My arm took several moments to get back to me, winding into itself like some sort of ancient, revered jack-in-the-box.

  But I paid that no mind and got back to my feet, pelting towards the front and to where I knew Mimi would be.

  I wasn’t going to let her fight this battle alone.

  I ran possibly harder than I had ever run before. Harder than when I was racing away from explosions or giant tentacle monsters or anything else.

  We’d been through so much, I couldn’t leave her now. If this was how things ended, if we fell at this final hurdle, then we would be together for it.

  I made it to the front, looking back and forth, trying to pick her out of the barriers. There were so many faces, so many bodies.

  And then the deep thumping of footsteps.

  So many footsteps.

  They picked up their pace, row after row of Harvesters charging forward. It was a weird sen
se of déjà vu to the same sound that I had heard during the first invasion, but this time, I was able to see it firsthand instead of when they were charging up the main lab base.

  “Mimi!” I cried. “Mimi! Where are you?”

  Of course, there was no answer. Just that last breath of bracing before the final clash.

  And then the two lines fired.

  I ducked behind one of the barriers, surprised when their shots glanced off of it, fizzling out into the air in multiple directions. I didn’t know why I was surprised considering I had spent at least five different days working as a wrench monkey on that project, but perhaps there was a difference between the theory and seeing it in action.

  I leaned out from behind the barrier and fired my gun. I thought I saw someone fall, but I couldn’t tell for sure. Once more, my world was devoured by violence.

  I hated it. I hated how it made me feel. I hated how it made me think. I hated how it made me act. I just wanted everyone to be safe. To be comforted and happy. I wanted no one else to be in danger, and I kinda just wanted to tinker around with stuff and make fun little doodads that did stuff that nobody really needed done.

  I didn’t want to kill. I still remembered the first alien that I had ever gunned down. How it had taken a chunk of my own soul.

  And here I was, doing it again.

  Hopefully for the last time.

  My nose burned and my eyes watered, but I kept fighting and firing and firing. Until finally the aliens reached us, trampling over their fallen kin in the effort to get to us.

  It was a strange transition. One moment, we were in a long-range firefight, the next moment, someone was launching themselves at me, flying through the air with an unintelligible snarl falling from their lips.

  Did they even have lips?

  Not the question to worry about.

  The two of us rolled to the ground, fighting for purchase. I could hear dozens upon dozens of other struggles—mimics screeching, humans crying out, the Harvesters letting out those bellowing roars that made my teeth chatter.

  I managed to get on top and punch downward with my arm, it shifting and morphing into something akin to three large, dark hammers. It only took two hits until the beast stopped, but then I was grabbed from behind.

  I went flying forward yet again, my face scraping along the dirt. We came to a stop when I slammed into a body. Whose body, I didn’t know.

  I fought to get up, but the pressure on my back was so incredibly strong. Then I felt someone grab my feet, someone grab my arms, and pull.

  Pain raced through me, and I choked on the dirt and grass my face had uprooted. I couldn’t see, I could hardly think. There was just the ice-cold panic as my lungs started to protest the lack of air. I needed to get free. I needed to fight.

  But my body was so incredibly tired. Even just getting down to the ground with my rudimentary mimic abilities had taken so much out of me. I needed just a moment, a singular moment to breathe and gather myself and shake the haze of battle from every thought in my head.

  But I didn’t have that. All I had was dirt and suffocation and the grunts of the aliens above me. Why wasn’t anybody helping? Were we losing? Was this where the tide turned and our luck finally ran out?

  I could see the vision forming in front of me as my head swam, more dirt coating my tongue and forcing its way down my throat as my attackers pushed my head down father and pulled my limbs that much tighter. I could see the scattered carcasses of mimics dotting the landscape, some turning to dust just as Astaroth did. I could see another one draped across a barrier, its blood staining the ground with loss. I could see all of them. Destroyed. Stolen. Cut short when we had fought so incredibly hard just to live.

  And of course, I saw Mimi. They would never kill someone like her, the mother of a species that could grow up to protect the entire universe. No, they would take her and trap her like the humans once had. I had read the briefest snippet of their medical files they had on board and I knew exactly the sort of insidious things they would do to her in the hopes of integrating her into their systems as she had integrated with mine.

  I couldn’t let that happen.

  Something changed, and the flickering flame of life within my soul burst into a raging inferno that refused to be put out. It wanted to live. It wanted to consume and clear away all the danger until there was only peace.

  I could get behind that kind of message.

  Reaching down inside of me, I called upon the slippery, inky cool that now resided in my DNA. I couldn’t see what happened, but I could feel my arm split and curl, winding into a swarm of whipping tentacles that lashed out at all who were holding me.

  They fell back, and I jumped to my feet, snarling in a way that I have never heard myself utter. For just a moment, all the rest of the world fell away, and I was solely honed in on destroying the three Harvesters who were struggling to get upright.

  Unchecked power rushed through me. With a cry, I felt my body bend and snap under the pressure, and then I was something else entirely as I crashed down on my enemies.

  I didn’t really know what was happening. I didn’t understand all of my bodies or limbs. But that didn’t matter. I reached out and tossed the offenders away. Was this how Mimi felt all the time? Powerful and limitless and always rushing just below my skin? Overflowing with energy, ready to do whatever it was that I needed.

  A strange, thrumming sort of hum filled my entire brain and I jerked, craning my head around. Heads? Did I have more than one? I couldn’t quite tell. Everything was confusing and different and oh so delicious.

  And then I saw her.

  Tall and towering and massive. She had taken on the form of something purely out of her own head. All limbs and gnashing teeth and pure power. And in that moment, she was just so beautiful.

  I bounded over to her, feeling my form shift back to the human one that I was more used to as I went. I was so small, so insignificant next to her power. But instead of making me feel inferior, it filled me with a giddy sort of happiness that made me want to follow her everywhere and do anything she asked.

  Goodness, was this what all the mimics felt when she had freed them from the original Harvester’s cruel grasp? No wonder they were willing to die for her.

  I reached her just as she stomped on a group of Harvesters that were unloading their weapons all on her. She spared me only a glance, but when our eyes met, it was like I was filled from head to toe with purpose.

  Fight.

  No fear.

  Just fight.

  And so fight I did. I felt my mimic arm grow and expand into those snaking tentacles that I was able to control the easiest, but that wasn’t the only thing that changed. I felt a cooling sensation run across my body and down my spine until my other arm started to ripple and buck too.

  I didn’t fight it, didn’t doubt it even though my brain couldn’t understand what was going on any more than it had when I had fended off the three attackers, but it formed a thick, hardened shield that looked exactly like a mimic’s skin.

  “Higgens!”

  I recognized Eskes’s cry and whipped to see a Harvester leveling their gun at me at point blank range. For a breath, I was sure that I was going to die—rather anti-climatic after all of the revelations and discoveries I was having—but then I remembered that I had seen Mimi take a full-on ship missile to the face and be fine.

  I jerked my shield up and the blow crashed into it, ricocheting somewhere else. I also flew backward, my feet digging into the ground for purchase, until I finally slowed.

  Right in the center of a group of Harvesters who were facing off with some of the middle-developed mimics.

  Now that wouldn’t do.

  I set in on the closest one, grabbing him, lifting him up in the air as high as my tentacles would allow, then slamming him into the ground. By then, all of them had noticed me and began to close ranks.

  It was intoxicating, this intense power that I felt. And suddenly I understood how Mimi manag
ed to be so calm all of the time. I felt more powerful and connected to myself than I ever had.

  Yet even as I knew that my mind was hovering somewhere between mimic and human, I realized that the hive-sort of mentality wasn’t all that different from my own sort of strange thought.

  Huh. That all made sense, I guess.

  But it didn’t matter. What mattered was ending this fight.

  So I fought. I sank into what my body thought was best. Punching. Throwing. Deflecting with my shied.

  Time took on no meaning, although my body grew more and more exhausted. It seemed that even with all the raw energy I felt rushing through my veins now that I’d finally given in to my mimic DNA, the well was beginning to run dry.

  My forehead beaded with sweat. My breath grew short. All of my limbs became heavy and sluggish.

  But I kept on. I punched a Harvester across the jaw that was trying to relieve a soldier from his head. I purposefully threw Eske against another two to whom she delivered violent kicks. I kicked, and tentacled, and carved a path through the battlefield.

  Eventually, however, the attacks began to slow. My targets grew farther and farther part. And that was right about when our ships lowered themselves into the atmosphere, each bearing their own device that had been mounted during the whole ground battle.

  I wanted to watch, but I couldn’t. Even though I knew exactly what was happening. They created a formation and slowly lowered.

  With the alien ships having no way to fire up at the vulnerable underbellies of our own warships, they could only sit there, trying to force out all of their troops.

  But there wasn’t any way for them to push that many of their foot soldiers out that quickly, and I felt the change in the air pressure as they booted up their different components.

  And then, once they were all up, a tractor beam locked onto all three of the ships, hauling them high into the atmosphere.

  Up, up, up they went until they were high enough that the foot soldiers would die if they dared to try to exit. And then, finally, the resounding background noise of our main base stopped, and I felt our planetary shield drop.