The Adventures of Connor Jakes: Masks (The War for Terra Book 1)

by James Prosser

  7

  “Humans are confusing creatures. They say they want safety but when asked about having fun, they choose the most deadly pastimes.”

  Tuxor

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  “Dammit!” Jakes shouted as he pulled his boot from the thick muck. “I hate wet socks!”

  “Cap’n,” Parker called from under Mendel’s arm. “I don’t mean to be a jerk or anything, but where the hell are we? I mean, I think we were better off back at the control room. It was certainly … drier.”

  Both men had taken the thick gel from their ears upon entry to the habitat. Tuxor had collected the twins and tried to close the entryway. Even with the help of the electronics wizards in the bottle, he was unable to close the door completely. Jakes could still hear the sound of the creature down the corridor and hastened to move the group to higher ground. Mendel was breathing hard with his rifle over one shoulder and Parker under his arm, but they were moving quickly through the muck.

  “I should’a left you there, you bastard,” Jakes replied, turning on the injured man. “If you had just waited two minutes before blowin’ somethin’ up we might not been in this mess.”

  “Hey boss,” Parker said, holding his hands up in surrender. “You know, I see somethin’ flat and unmarked, I gotta blow it up. Ya can’t change stripes, right?”

  “I’ll stripe your ass next time and leave you for those howlers,” Jakes said, stabbing a finger into the smaller man’s chest. “Now we gotta find someplace to hide. I think we made it mad.”

  “I shot off its hand, Captain!” Mendel said, grinning from ear to ear. “Did you see that? I shot his freakin’ hand off!”

  “You hit its wrist, Eli,” Jakes said, turning away and looking into the murky darkness. “It tore its own hand off.”

  The environment they had entered after leaving the corridor was warm and humid with a thick layer of water and muck under their feet. Artificial moonlight filtered through tall trees, layered with Spanish moss and dried leaves. There was the faint sound of crickets echoing through the swamp, and an occasional low rumble of something in the water. The air was stale and smelled of rotting vegetation and methane. Jakes could feel the sweat trickling down the middle of his back, wetting his sleeveless shirt further.

  “This way,” Jakes said, pointing towards a glimmer of light in the distance. “I think I see somethin’.”

  “Seriously, boss,” Parker said again. “What’s goin’ on here? I mean, first we’re on a station and now we’re on the bayou. What gives?”

  “Terpsichore station is kind of like an amusement park,” Jakes explained, brushing aside low hanging branches. “Rich people from all over the galaxy came here, paid millions for the station to create their wildest fantasies, and then left. Since the place catered to aliens mostly, it stayed intact durin’ the war. Last time, there was only one of them things. I never made it out here to the dome, though, so I don’t know what might be out here.”

  The demolitions man quieted down as the group moved through the swamp. Connor’s mind raced as he tried to figure a way back to the ship which took them anywhere but past the howler. A flight of bats seemed to pass between the artificial light of the moon and the swamp. Jakes rolled his eyes. The entire scenario was strange. He knew the environment would mimic any place the patron wanted. His only question was why the wealthy aliens would want a place so much like Earth? Rounding a banyan tree, he nearly stumbled into the water as a small crocodile splashed away. When he looked back up again, the light he had seen resolved into the most unusual sight yet.

  A mansion sat in the middle of the swamp. Covered in moss and mold, the building looked to be a century or more old. Parts of the roof were partially caved in and the door seemed to hang in its frame. On either side of a boxy parapet center, two wings spread out from either side. On the far right, a glass conservatory sagged under the weight of the overgrown trees around it; glass scattered the ground around it.

  “What the hell is a Victorian mansion doing in the swamp, Captain?” Mendel asked, slowly pulling the rifle from his shoulder and pointing it towards the house.

  “Dutch gothic revival, actually,” Parker said, cocking his head at the house. “You can tell by the angles on the cornices.”

  The three men turned to look at Parker. For his part, Parker had turned his attention back to his leg. The torn material used to bind the wound had become wet and dirty in the swamp. Jakes exchanged glances with Mendel and the two men shrugged. Tuxor seemed perfectly contented to stand in the thick mud holding the canisters.

  “Captain,” the big amphibian said. “I would like to make a suggestion.”

  “Go ahead, Tux.”

  “I would like to reconnoiter the area ahead of you,” the amphibian said. “I believe I can move faster without you.”

  Jakes looked at the two-meter tall alien for a moment. He had been travelling with the creature for so long he had forgotten that Tuxor was a creature of the swamps. Jakes had freed his people from the Ch’Tauk invasion years before, and had seen how well the creatures could move through the thick water and mud. Nodding to the man, Jakes reached for the canisters. They seemed heavier than the last time he had held them. Tuxor stepped away from the group and towards the deeper water farther into the swamp. His size and powerful build made him more than a match for any creatures lurking in the deep water. Jakes watched as the alien dove into the water with barely a splash.

  A low sound floated across the swamp as Parker and Mendel moved closer to Jakes. Parker had pulled his pistols and was absently playing with the safety latch. Jakes hissed quietly to the man and he slid one of them back into the holster. Seconds ticked by as the three men waited for the amphibian. There was a splash behind them, startling Mendel into turning and nearly dropping his partner. The three men took a deep breath to calm their nerves. Connor placed his hand on the long barrel of Mendel’s rifle and pushed it down.

  “It won’t do to shoot if it’s one of ours,” he said to the big man. “Tuxor will be right back, alright. Calm down.”

  A splash erupted behind them and the men turned back towards the house. Tuxor had nearly crested completely out of the water before splashing back to the thick mud bank where they stood. The big alien had not looked so happy since he had left his home planet two years before. They had converted the shipboard pool on Sweet Liberty to be his home, but the artificial swamp on the station seemed to suit him much better.

  Tuxor’s smooth baritone drifted over the group. “The area is secure, Captain. Aside from a few crocodilians and some … um ... serpents?”

  “Snakes.”

  “Thank you, there are many snakes in the water, but none are interested in attack,” Tuxor informed them. “It is odd. I have read of your Earth herpetarian species. The type of snake in this swamp should be more aggressive. These seemed to be fairly docile. When I attempted to touch one of them…”

  “You tried to pet a snake?” Parker shouted. “What the hell were you thinkin’?”

  “I was curious,” Tuxor replied without any hint of pretext. “In any case, the snake wriggled but did not stop swimming on its course. It was as if it did not know it was supposed to attack.”

  “We can’t worry about that now, Tuxor,” Jakes said, stepping closer to the big alien. “Can we get over there without gettin’ too wet?”

  “I believe so, sir,” Tuxor replied. “There is a ridge of sand running across. You should not submerge completely.”

  Tuxor took the canisters from Jakes and led the group across the slippery sandbar towards the decrepit house. Connor kept his feet despite the shifting sands, but Mendel slid further down into the muck. Parker, for his part, managed to stay on the sandbar even while his partner slid down. Mendel held his rifle high above the water while scrambling to regain his footing and splashing Parker with brackish water. It took the team two long minutes of slogging through the water to reach the embankment where the house rested. Parker collapsed on the bank while M
endel shook the water out of his boots. Conner checked his pistol again and holstered the deadly device. He was getting tired of running away and wanted to stand and fight.

  A howl erupted across the swamp. Unlike any of the other predators they had encountered in the mud, this one had power and purpose to its cry. The muddy water trembled as the sound echoed in the dark. Jakes waited a few seconds before stepping further up the bank. The demolitions expert and the sniper gathered their things and moved to join their captain. Before they reached the lowest step of the house, however, a second howl thundered over the swamp, this one louder than the first, and much more powerful. The second cry was joined by a third, and finally a fourth. Each came from a different direction and seemed more powerful than the one before.

  Mendel broke first. The big man held his rifle up high and ran for the front steps of the house. Parker hobbled after his partner, keeping close despite his injury. Jakes looked at Tuxor, who stared with his large black eyes into the night. Both men recognized the sounds. The first was the call of the injured howler at the entrance. The next were replies for its call for help. They were the calls of predators calling for their pack, and Jakes realized they were surrounded.

  “Get inside now,” Jakes ordered Tuxor. “We’ll make a stand here.”

  “If those howlers are as fearsome as the ones we encountered in the control room, this house will not stand up to them,” the amphibian replied.

  “I gotta feelin’ it ain’t gonna matter, Tux,” Jakes replied. “At least in there we might be able to sit down for a second and regroup.”

  “I would not recommend sitting for too long, Captain,” Tuxor said. “I believe these creatures know where we are.”

  “I believe you’re right, Tux,” Jakes replied.

  The two followed Parker and Mendel to the front door of the house. Although it hung in its frame loosely, Mendel had been unable to force it open. Jakes kicked hard against the frame, trying to loosen the door, but it had no effect. Connor nearly fell over with the effort before Tuxor caught him with a lower arm. His foot hurt where the boot had met the jamb.

  “What the hell?” Jakes shouted as he examined the door frame. “This ain’t wood.”

  Jakes leaned close to the frame and examined it closely. Under the veneer of rotting wood, flakes of shiny metal were showing through. Jakes stood back and looked at the whole door. A second set of howls reverberated across the swamp, closer now. Mendel raised his rifle towards the swamp while Parker began to pull blocks from his pockets. Jakes ran his hands along the edges of the door while the other men took up defensive positions.

  “Tuxor,” Jakes called to the big amphibian. “Pop the cans on the twins. I got an idea.”

  “Sir, I cannot predict what effect this environment will have on their liquid forms,” Tuxor replied, setting the canisters down. “There is nowhere for them to run to here.”

  “I ain’t askin’ them to run, Tuxor,” Jakes replied, looking at the alien with steely eyes. “I want them to do their jobs.”

  “Sir?” Tuxor asked.

  “Just open the damn can,” Jakes ordered. “Now!”

  Tuxor popped the tops from the cylinder. As the twin helix rose slowly above the canisters, another howl shook the timbers of the house. Dust and rotting particles floated down onto the team, clinging to their wet skin and making them seem more a part of the house and swamp than human. The twins merged into a tight shaft of amber liquid and swayed through the roar. Jakes could see the ripples along the body of the liquid creatures as the howls subsided. He pointed to the door.

  “There.”

  The shaft widened and flattened as the twins grew from the canister and twisted towards the door. They seemed to repeat Jakes’ procedure of combing the edges of the door. Where the door lock was, the liquid stopped and pushed close. The twins reared back suddenly as if surprised. Jakes saw them turn towards Tuxor for a moment, twisting in the air again. Finally, the amber spear shot towards the doorjamb, splashing into the frame and coating the rotting wood with a sheen of gold. It took longer than normal for the seeping process, but the twins eventually disappeared into the wood.

  “I didn’t know they could do that,” Parker said, breaking the intense silence on the porch. “Did anyone else know they worked on wood? Can they talk to the trees, too? That might be helpful.”

  “Shut up, Parker,” Jakes said. “Let them work.”

  A new series of howls, much closer to the house, rumbled the ground beneath the porch. Jakes turned back to the swamp, steadying himself on the wall. He pulled his pistol from his hip and held it up. Visibility in the artificial moonlight was poor, but he could still make out the shapes of trees outlined in pale blue. There was a click behind him and he turned.

  The door to the house had begun to creak open, pushed by invisible hands. Jakes could see the door had been made intentionally crooked as it swung out. The frame was streaked with bright metal flakes in a crooked frame. Tuxor placed a hand to the door and emitted the low hum he used to communicate with the liquefied twins. Jakes doubted the amphibian could hear them under the vibrations of the howler cry, but the big alien seemed to be satisfied with what he felt.

  “Inside!” Jakes called. “Now!”

  8

  “When I first met Connor Jakes, he was a mess. We had just liberated the man from a maximum security prison station. What I saw beneath the grime and blood, though, was someone dangerous who was looking for direction. Life always point the way for people like that.”

  Alfredo Ortiz

  The Stars, My Heart

  Connor had to laugh at the creaking floor under his feet. The rotting floorboards threatened to give way under his boots, but he seemed not to notice. Parker and Mendel had each raced inside the short entrance foyer and waited as Jakes and Tuxor walked in and shoved the door closed. It fitted loosely as it had before they opened it, but moved with ease. Tuxor had retrieved the glass canisters previously containing the liquid twins and placed it on the floor near a rotting hat stand. The foyer smelled of mold and old wood, and dust filtered down from the broken plaster ceiling.

  “Tighten up, you two,” Jakes said to his team. Let’s see if we can find a room without windows. If those howlers get near here, we’re gonna want to find someplace we can make a stand. I don’t think you want to be near glass when those things come calling.”

  The two men responded immediately to the confidence in Jakes’ voice. Again, he sounded different to them, but they couldn’t place the exact nature of the difference. This Jakes was the one they had followed on raids across the galaxy during the war. They turned and moved down the hall, Parker leaning against the wall but still holding his pistol tight. Jakes turned to Tuxor with a questioning glare.

  “What’d they say?” Jakes asked.

  “Apparently they are having fun,” Tuxor said, with a gleam in his eye. “Your suggestion of merging with the building was unexpected but pleasant. They are working.”

  “They better be,” Jakes replied, stepping further down the hall behind the other men. “They may be the only thing standing between us and those screamin’ monsters.”

  “May I ask a question, Captain?”

  “Go ahead,” Jakes replied, turning back to face the two-meter amphibian.

  “Exactly what are the twins working on?”

  Another howl from outside sent flecks of dust and mold down on their heads again. Tuxor was bending over to keep his head from scraping the ceiling and his back took the majority of the debris. The howl lasted for a full minute and again sounded like a call. Jakes assumed the creature outside was the same one they had faced in the control room. The tone was wrong and in a far lower pitch than the others. He assumed the explosion had disabled or destroyed the other one, so they had only the damaged one and three others to contend with.

  The corridor ran all the way through the house, with blocked access to a back room. The first set of doors on either side of the hall led to a formal dining room, still set f
or eight place settings; and a sitting room on the left. Jakes entered the sitting room to see Mendel fumbling with gauzy curtains. The room was dark and coated in the same dust and mold as the rest of the house. Spider webs covered the corners in a thick haze. Two wingback chairs, upholstered in a rich red calico, sat facing a brick fireplace on the far wall. One of the chairs had fallen through the floor and tilted into the hole. The other was water-stained but intact. Behind the two chairs was a long sofa that had started out in white with golden trim. The fabric was in tatters, stuffing and excelsior littering the floor around it. Two bookshelves framed the nearest wall, containing the remains of dozens of leather-bound books.

  “I can’t see them yet, boss,” Mendel said, tearing the thin fabric from the rod over the window. “I know at least one of them is there, but it’s better at hiding than we are.”

  “Stay back, Eli. If you see anything bigger than a mosquito, get out of here. Where’s Parker?”

  “Across the hall,” Mendel replied. “He said he was going to place his order with the butler.”

  “Aww hell,” Jakes said, turning back to the door and stepping to the hallway. “That probably means he’s going to blow the place up.”

  Connor stepped the two paces to cross the hallway. The dining room contained a long table once covered with a white tablecloth. The fabric had rotted away or had been eaten by insects years ago. Around the table was a set of high-backed chairs. At each setting was a soup bowl on a ceramic plate and tarnished gold spoons. A wine glass sat unused above each bowl, although several were cracked. Golden candlesticks were set in two places with melted beeswax candles. Parker Trega sat at the head of the table, tossing a small package from hand to hand. He was smiling, which made Connor nervous.

  “Get up off your ass, Parker,” Jakes ordered the small man. “This ain’t nap time.”