Invasion

by Bob Mayer

  “And?” Sofia pressed. “That doesn’t explain—“ she pointed at her head. “And what are the fears here?” she indicated the Facility.

  “You are very much like your Nana,” Asha said. “She always asked the hard questions, even when we didn’t want to know the answers.”

  Joseph answered. “Some dangers are the same. Such as a system failure. While we are self-contained, there are three critical systems that must continue functioning. Water, light and air. Which all require power. We have the InRotor wind system and the Tesla batteries. We also have solar panels we could deploy if we had to, but that would require breaching the integrity of the Facility, which would only be a last resort. The same with rebooting the nuclear reactors.”

  Sofia nodded. “I was taught all that. You are avoiding discussing what you did to me and the other Metabols.” She looked down at the boy. “And what just happened to him. Why he has faded.”

  “The largest danger,” Joseph said, “is ourselves. We were destroying our great mother, the planet. And we knew it and so few were willing to do anything about it. We have made war with ourselves for as long as there has been history. This seems to be the human curse. We are self-destructive.”

  “Yet it wasn’t always that way,” Asha said. “Early man didn’t make war. Didn’t destroy the environment. We were too few, true, but also, we—“ she paused, trying to find the words—“we were closer as a species. It seems that our curse is that as we became more advanced intellectually, we lost something. We lost our humanness. We lost what keeps almost all other animals from making war with its own species.”

  Asha stopped and checked to the see if Sofia was following.

  The young girl nodded. “I’ve wondered that. How humans are different from other animals. Some species, especially dogs like Nana’s George, are so much nicer than many people.”

  Asha gave a brief smile. “Yes. Dogs are special. They evolved the opposite way humans did. They started as wolves, predators. There are still wolves, but at a certain point, some wolves became dogs. What is interesting is that you cannot domesticate a modern wolf. The species split genetically. That is part of it.

  “Most people believe what makes us different than other animals is thinking. But other animals think at a basic level. Perhaps it is our ability to conceptualize? Some have theorized it is our language ability, even though it has been proven other species have limited forms of communication. Dolphins for example. But combine conceptualizing with a more advanced linguistic ability? An artistic ability? That is what takes us to another level.” She paused and Joseph stepped in.

  “But every advancement also means we must give something up. There is a price to be paid. As each person gained the ability to think for themselves, to speak, we became more ‘I’ and less ‘we’. My people know this. We lived in tribes. A we. When we lost that, we gave up something fundamental.”

  “Ah,” Sofia said. “When we spoke and thought as individuals we were no longer part of the group. The tribe.” She looked about. “The Metabols. We are a tribe.”

  “Yes,” Asha said.

  “How?”

  “Early humans,” Asha said, “did not have a verbal language. Yet we interacted, we operated as a tribe.”

  “We knew each other,” Sofia said.

  “A simple way of putting it,” Asha said, “but that is it. It was almost a telepathic capability. If one person saw danger, the others could feel it.”

  “So you regressed us?” Sofia asked. “To be more primitive?”

  “No,” Ashe replied. “It’s technical.”

  “That’s the answer my teacher gives when she either doesn’t understand it herself,” Sofia said, “or doesn’t think I will understand.”

  Joseph chuckled. “She has you.”

  Asha sighed. “I’d have to show you a diagram of the brain and explain the bicameral—“ she abruptly stopped as Sofia held up a hand.

  “There was a third plan, wasn’t there?” the young girl asked.

  Asha and Joseph exchanged a glance.

  “What do you mean?” Joseph asked.

  “The mothership,” Sofia said. “We were briefed on it. About occupying it. We were told we would be put in deep sleep. But there was nothing about where the mothership would go; the interstellar journey you spoke of. I often felt that those people briefing us were troubled about the topic.”

  “There was a third plan,” Asha admitted. “It was kept very secret. Only a few people knew of it. Your Nana was one. It was a big reason why we started working together. Mrs. Parrish had a plan to put the Chosen on board the mothership and cleanse the planet, which she believed would solve most of the Earth’s problems. Then the Chosen would come back down and re-inhabit the planet. Reboot the human race, but as a better race.”

  “So she was going to be the worst of mankind in order to insure the survival of mankind,” Sofia said, but it was not a question. “That inherent evil would have only led to more evil.” She suddenly turned toward the boy on the cot. “He is not dead. He is different.”

  “What do you mean?” Asha asked.

  “Mrs. Parrish purged the Fades, correct?” Sofia asked.

  Asha nodded. “Yes.”

  “So you never saw what eventually happens to a Fade?”

  “What do you mean, ‘eventually happens’?” Asha said. Joseph leaned forward, listening intently.

  “You assume he, and the others, are in a coma they will not come out of?” Sofia asked.

  “The first Fades never did,” Asha said. “That is why Mrs. Parrish had them purged. She said they were an unnecessary drain on resources.”

  Sofia folded her arms across her chest. “But didn’t the Metabols and the Fades look the same at first?”

  Asha nodded. “Yes. But we could tell the difference from the bloodwork. And we had to give Mrs. Parrish’s security people some bodies. We gave them the Fades and hid the rest of you in the cavern. Your mother and I manipulated the numbers that the security forces received. They assumed the numbers were correct. Mrs. Parrish was never the wiser.”

  “So you never kept a Fade until now?”

  “We couldn’t,” Asha said.

  Sofia nodded. “I understand.” She unfolded her arms and went to the boy. She put her hand on his forehead. “He is not one of us. But he’s not human either. Nor is he dead.”

  “What is he then?” Joseph asked.

  “He is a Fade,” Sofia said simply. “I don’t know what that means. It doesn’t seem any of us do.”

  SWARM BATTLE CORE

  Turcotte flew close to the surface of the Core. At this distance it was very uneven, with ridges and crevices hundreds of feet high and deep. The black surface was pitted, striated, and rippled. It didn’t have the sheen of metal, more a dull black like coal.

  He watched a warship enter a portal a quarter mile ahead and checked to see if another was inbound. Nothing was close so he moved forward to the edge of the portal. It was over four miles wide, the edges irregular. Pointing the nose of the Fynbar down all he could see was black with a faint red glow in the far distance.

  Turcotte dove into the Core. The walls were the same as the surface. He kept close to the side and was glad he did as a warship came flying upward at a rapid speed and shot by, making the trip to Earth.

  Several miles passed and the red glow brightened.

  Then the black began to have reddish streaks in it. For a stretch of approximately two miles the black gave way to more and more red until the side of the portal was completely red. This layer was a couple miles wide and as he approached the end, Turcotte brought the Fynbar to a halt.

  The portal ended in a red membrane that stretched across the entire length.

  Turcotte was puzzling over how it opened when the center of membrane stretched out from pressure on the other side. He had to back the Fynbar to avoid being pressed against the wall of the portal as the membrane pushed upward over a quarter mile. Then he saw the tip of the arm of a warship p
opping through as the membrane gave way, sliding down it, then widening as the warship continued to push through. The membrane slid along the outer hull of the warship, splitting as the other arms punched through and snapping back in place. As the center radius of the warship came out, the membrane began to coalesce, still along the skin of the warship until it snapped back in place.

  It was a hell of a door. Then he realized it was a hell of a single stage airlock, if there was air on the other side.

  Turcotte didn’t bother to ruminate on the possibilities. He piloted the Fynbar toward the center, flipped the nose toward membrane and flew into it.

  SURVIVAL SILO, KANSAS

  “Three dead,” Doc said. “That I know of. Some of the families don’t answer and have locked their condos.”

  “All children?” Jack asked, ignoring Tremble’s racking cough.

  “Two kids, one elderly man,” Doc said.

  They were seated in the control center, beneath the garage where the Beast was parked. The periscope showed that the entire perimeter fence was under pressure from zombies, as Jack had christened them. It appeared those actually against the fence were dead, crushed by the weight of the people behind them, which negated Jack’s zombie theory, but no one else had a better suggestion for what to call the people.

  “I think we should make a run for it,” Jack said. “Get in the Beast, floor it.”

  “Leave the clients?” Tremble said.

  “We’re past that point,” Jack replied.

  “What about the people on the gate?” Tremble asked, regretting the words as soon as he uttered them.

  “They’re not people,” Jack said. “We run over them.”

  “I’d be more worried about whatever those big fucking things standing behind them are,” Doc said. “If that’s the Swarm, we’re in deep shit.” He went to the scope and put his forehead to it, peering out. “The stuff coming down is thicker.”

  “And it’s radioactive, right?” Tremble said. “So if we make a run for it where do we go? How do we stop from being--”

  “It’s ash,” Jack argued. “The reading for radioactivity is only slightly elevated. Before things went dark the news reported that most of the major cities in India and Pakistan were on fire. That’s a lot of smoke. And who knows how many more nukes were fired at the Swarm?”

  “Damn,” Doc said, pulling back from the periscope. “Can’t see shit. It went black.”

  “What?” Jack pushed past Doc and looked. He turned the scope left. “Something’s wrong with this thing. I do think we should blow the rest of the claymores. Take out as many of the zombies as possible.” Jack panned right. “There’s something—“ he never finished as the glass exploded inward and a parasite launched directly into his mouth, smothering his words and screams.

  Doc and Tremble scrambled for the elevator as more parasites poured in through the broken periscope. Tremble made it inside and Doc almost did. But the Special Force medic was tripped by a long parasite that wrapped around one ankle. The parasite lashed around the other ankle, hobbling him.

  “Don’t leave me!” Doc screamed.

  Tremble was already punching the close button as hard and as fast as he could. The doors rumbled close, just in time, actually catching a two-foot long parasite in the middle. The thing was cut in half.

  Tremble stomped repeatedly on the remaining part as the elevator descended.

  Doc was screaming, but that abruptly stopped.

  SS SAROV, STRAIT OF JUAN DE FUCA

  “This is like those old movies,” the Captain said in a low voice. “Where the Germans would be sitting on the bottom, listening to the sound of the enemy destroyers passing by overhead.”

  “Waiting for the depth charges from the Americans is more like it,” Vladimir said.

  “Be positive,” the Captain chided.

  “He is Russian,” the XO threw in. “He doesn’t know how to be positive.”

  The Captain chuckled. The officers were huddled in the small mess, really a closet. But the laugh was quickly gone. “Report,” the Captain ordered.

  The XO was first. “The movements have gone away. It’s silent above. Perhaps the aliens fell for our torpedo ruse. Perhaps the loss of their monsters scared them—“

  “No,” the Captain was certain. “These things do not scare. They don’t run away. They did not come all the way to this planet to just leave.”

  “Regardless,” the XO said, “there is nothing on sonar. We could ping, but I advise against. There has been zero ship traffic through the Strait. That is unheard of.”

  “Unless there are no people left to captain the ships,” the Captain noted.

  The officers exchanged glances.

  “Sir,” Vladimir finally said. “The Americans tried to attack us. Let us focus on that instead of the aliens.”

  The XO rolled his eyes, making no attempt to hide his disdain for the political officer.

  The Captain waved a hand, cutting off any further comment. “We cannot remain with our heads in the mud forever.” He turned to the Volkov. “What is the status of Poseidon?”

  Volkov frowned. “Still counting down. I’ve gone through the schematics. It’s a relatively simple design. The atomic weapon, that is. It is actually based on the original Tsar Bomba, but reduced in size.”

  “Can you turn it off? Disarm it?”

  “Doubtful,” Volkov said.

  “Doubtful, sir,” the XO corrected.

  “Doubtful is not an absolute no,” the Captain said. “There is a possibility you can?”

  “It is impossible, sir,” Volkov said.

  “You just said it was doubtful,” the Captain reminded him. “Which is it? Doubtful or impossible?”

  “Let me clarify—“ Volkov began. He had to ignore the XO’s muttered: “Please do.”

  “I might be able to disarm the bomb,” Volkov said, “but to do that, I’d have to enter the launch container. It is outside the pressure hull, so we must go up to a survivable depth for me to do that. And once I enter the launch container, I have to open Poseidon. One of the tradeoffs made in making Poseidon so powerful and fit inside the torpedo, was to reduce shielding. The container shields the ship and crew from radioactivity. Once I open the container, I will be bathed in radiation. Along with the entire submarine.”

  “Damned either way,” the Captain said.

  “Something to consider,” the XO said, “is that the launch container might have been damaged during the attack. What if we can’t launch Poseidon?”

  “Another good reason to disarm it,” the Captain said. He indicated Volkov. “Be prepared to do it.”

  Volkov opened his mouth to protest, recognized the futility and nodded. “Yes, Captain.”

  “Dismissed,” the Captain said.

  The officers left.

  “Tasha?” the Captain called out.

  She appeared in the doorway almost instantly. “Sir?”

  “What has cook prepared for the crew?”

  “Borsch, sir.”

  “Of course,” the Captain said. “Isn’t it always borsch?”

  Tasha’s face reddened.

  “What is your favorite meal of cook’s?” the Captain asked.

  “The crew likes cook’s zharkoye, sir.”

  “Do you?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “All right,” the Captain said. “Have cook make his famous zharkoye.”

  Tasha turned to go.

  “Tasha,” The Captain said, stopping her.

  “Sir?”

  “Do you have a boyfriend?”

  For the second time Tasha blushed. “Yes, sir.”

  “Is he in the crew?”

  Tasha’s mouth opened, then she shut it. She collected herself. “Sir, any sort of fraternization is forbidden on board. That was emphasized very—“

  The Captain cut her off. “Since you did not simply say no, I assume he is. I also assume since it has not been reported to me, that you and your boyfriend do not fraternize whi
le we are at sea. Just back home, correct?”

  Tasha anxiously nodded. “Yes, sir.”

  “You may go,” the Captain said.

  When the door shut, the Captain leaned back in his chair, the scant inches he had and looked to the framed photo affixed to his wall. A woman and two boys. He sighed deeply. Then, reluctantly got up to go to the control room.

  EARTH

  Amidst the worldwide terror perpetrated by the warships and what came out of them, a single scout ship seemed of no significance. It dropped into the water near the Pacific Northwest coast of the North America.

  The scout was headed into the Cascadia Subduction Zone. While the meeting of tectonic plates underneath the ocean usually form trenches, the meeting off of the State of Washington and Northern Oregon was different. While there was a trench, it was largely filled with sediment from the major rivers, such as the Oregon, flowing into the ocean. In many places, this layer of sediment was miles deep.

  The Cascadia Zone is one part of the Ring of Fire, which encircles the Pacific Ocean, extending over 25,000 miles. It is a series of fault lines and volcanoes where the crust of the planet has cracks in it. It goes from the Pacific Northwest along the west coast of the United States to the west coast of South America. North from the Pacific Northwest it arcs along the Aleutians to the east coast of Russia to Japan, and New Guinea, New Zealand and Australia.

  The Swarm had studied many planets over the millennia. It understood geology on a level humans on Earth was just beginning to comprehend. The Ring of Fire is formed by tectonic plates, a theory that is relatively new in human scientific circles, first postulated in the mid-1960s. The surface of the Earth, the lithosphere, is divided into nine major plates and a dozen smaller ones. The lithosphere floats on top of the mantle. Each plate delineates a continent except for the Pacific, which encompasses several plates. The boundaries between plates produce one of three types of effects. Where two plates are going away from each other, they produce ridges where material come up through the split. When one plate slides under another, a subduction zone occurs. Where two plates move in opposite parallel directions is a transform fault, a prime example being the San Andreas Fault along the west coast of the United States.