Blackout

by Edward W. Robertson

  "Exactly. Except this strain was targeted to hit the people who'd been immune to the first one. The Swimmers got one shipment out. Sent it to New York. Fortunately for the human race, somebody out there blew the jet up. We destroyed every other trace of it. Spent the year after that cleaning up every hive of aliens we could find."

  "Then it sounds like thanks are in order. Perhaps even a plaque of some kind."

  Tristan cracked her knuckles. "After a while, the aliens were starting to get thin on the ground. But late last year, we stumbled onto a colony in Sydney. They had orders to come to Los Angeles. All the aliens did. We came here to try to figure out why. But we didn't know it had anything to do with the arrival of a second ship."

  Raina gazed across them. If there was deceit in their words or their faces, she didn't see it. "The alien. Sebastian. You say he didn't know the aliens were returning. But does he have any insight into why they have done so?"

  Ness gestured. Sebastian flicked a tentacle over his pad, conjuring up words. "IT IS NOT KNOWN"

  "We suspect it's a colony ship," Raina said. "Do they have such things? If so, how heavily are they armed?"

  "THERE ARE SHIPS FOR DESTROYING LIFE AND SHIPS FOR EXPANDING LIFE. BUT EVEN COLONIES HAVE DEFENSES. THERE WILL BE JETS. SOLDIERS. TRANSPORTS"

  "Which they'll use to try to destroy us."

  "THIS IS LIKELY"

  Raina lowered her gaze to the table. Like all objects that hadn't received regular care in years, it was covered in a thin layer of organic scum. There was no way to be rid of it except to sand it off. Was this how the Swimmers regarded Earth?

  "Your friend may not know their plans," Mauser said. "But surely he can tell us if they have faster-than-light travel."

  This required much gesturing. Sebastian wrote, "TRAVEL? NO. SPEECH? YES. PAIRED PARTICLES WILL MOVE IN TUNE NO MATTER HOW FAR THEY ARE SEPARATED"

  Raina turned to Mauser. "I may need you to translate for me."

  He scrunched up his face. "They can't travel faster than light. But it sounds like they can send messages instantaneously. Ness, would you be so kind as to ask your colleague whether any of his people live within seven light-years of here?"

  "WE DO NOT," the alien replied after this had been translated. "SO AS YOU GUESS, THIS NEW SHIP MUST BE PART OF THE FIRST PLAN"

  "This has helped," Raina said. "But it isn't enough. The only way to learn why they're here is to watch what they do."

  "Or ask them." Mauser turned to the strangers. "Can you guys ask them?"

  "PERHAPS"

  Raina shook her head. "Your thinking is muddy. If they are here to destroy us, they'll lie. Contacting them will expose the submarine and teach us nothing. For now, we must prepare as though they're here for war. Ness, how many people can your ship transport?"

  "Sixty?" He screwed up his face. "Maybe eighty, if you squeezed them in tight. Why?"

  "I have an island full of people. If they're attacked, they have nowhere to go. Right here, I have many who were wounded in the war or who are unfit to fight. Perhaps I can use my boats to take them to safety. But perhaps my boats will be attacked. Yours, though, can travel under the water. The only thing that will see it are the fish."

  "That sounds like a fair use of our talents," Ness said. "Where are you proposing we take them?"

  "The kingdom of Better San Diego. They will take care of those I send to them."

  Tristan's jaw dropped. "You're friends with Better San Diego? The Better San Diego that's run by a sociopathic tyrant who keeps women as sex slaves?"

  "You know of it?"

  "I was imprisoned as a servant there. Right after the plague. And if I see King Dashing again, I'll shove my thumbs into his eyes until they pop down his face."

  "That won't be possible," Raina said. "Because he's dead."

  Tristan blinked. "Dead? How?"

  "He tried to poison me. Instead, he died on my blade."

  "Good riddance. What about those fucking knights of his?"

  "Some were executed. Others were exiled. Those who remain are sworn to protect their people with their lives. There are no more slaves. A former servant—Georgia—rules as queen. The San Diego that you knew has been destroyed. The one that exists now is something we can all be proud of."

  "Well, I didn't know that," Tristan said. "Thanks for planting that asshole in the ground."

  Ness cleared his throat. "San Diego's barely a hundred miles from here, isn't it? We could have everyone squared away within a few days. What do you all think?"

  "Sounds cool," Sprite said.

  Sam shrugged. "Good use of resources."

  "WE HAVE ENDED MANY LIVES. THE WAY WILL APPRECIATE IF FOR ONCE WE SAVE THEM"

  Tristan tapped her fingernails on the grimy table. "I'm in. But if the Swimmers start attacking while we're ferrying people to safety, we'll need to reassess."

  They began a lengthy discussion of logistics. Raina was uneasy about the prospect of trusting her civilians' lives to these near-strangers, but the alternative was to expose her ships to the eyes of the Swimmers. Besides, though the crew didn't look fearsome to the untrained eye, they had the bearing of experienced warriors. She believed their stories of warfare and triumph. If she cast out heroes offering to help, surely the skies would look down on her with disdain.

  Even so, she proposed the first trip carry only twenty people to San Diego, explaining that it would be best to ensure they could travel without detection before putting more passengers in harm's way. As they spoke, Bryson stared out the window and walked outside, closing the door behind him. Voices filtered through the window. Bryson reentered.

  "You're a popular one today, boss." A strange smile crooked his face. "Two more visitors. And one of them claims he's Walt Lawson. The dude who took down the first ship."

  Raina stood, chair scraping beneath her. "Why is he here?"

  "Because he heard we throw a mean party. Why do you think? He saw the ship."

  "Mauser, continue the talks. I will speak with Walt."

  "Hold up," Mia said. "Walt's got more impersonators than Elvis. I used to travel with the real guy. I'll know if this one's legit."

  Mauser saluted with two fingers. "I'm happy to hold down the fort."

  Bryson held the door. Raina exited into the sunshine, followed by Mia. Twenty feet from the building, a man and a woman stood together. He was in his early thirties and had the scruffy face of a man who thought it was acceptable to resemble a beaver. The woman beside him was his age, blond hair pulled into a short ponytail, a reserved look on her face.

  Mia shook her head slowly. "So you survived. Why am I not surprised?"

  "Mia?" The man grinned and wandered forward. "Fancy seeing you again."

  She jerked her chin at the woman beside Walt. "Is that her?"

  "Is she who?"

  "Last time I saw you, you were chasing after your kidnapped girlfriend. Is that her?"

  "If not, this would be super awkward."

  "I'm Carrie." The woman stepped forward, hand extended. "You are?"

  "An old acquaintance of Walt's. We used to kill aliens together."

  Raina stepped among them. "The famed Walt Lawson."

  "Unfortunately." He examined her. "That makes you the famed Raina?"

  "You're shorter than I heard."

  "And you don't look old enough to buy beer. So maybe neither of us should be judging books by their covers."

  "Why are you here?"

  "I assume you've heard the news? Man, the Swimmers are like an abusive ex. They just can't seem to leave us alone."

  Raina eyed him. "And you think you need my help."

  "No," he said. "I think you need mine."

  "You're that sure?"

  "I've killed more squid than paella. And I know how to get rid of these ones, too."

  "Don't let his complete lack of dignity fool you," Mia said. "He knows what he's doing."

  Though the man before Raina ran his mouth as badly as Mauser, she had heard the legend of him. As wi
th those from the submarine, it would tempt fate to turn away such an auspicious figure. In fact, while it seemed that some force wished to punish her for uniting the Los Angeles Basin, it now seemed clear that a second force had chosen to aid her, rallying the world's greatest heroes to her cause. She glanced up at the sky, half expecting to see clouds doing battle with the moon, or a great dark crack splitting the blueness in half.

  "You were sent here for this," she said. "Together, we will destroy them."

  3

  The door creaked open. Tristan looked up. Mia entered, followed by a guy who looked like a post-apocalyptic hipster and a fit woman who looked out of his league. Raina led up the rear. The hipster—who had to be Walt Lawson—glanced at the table. He shouted out in surprise. A squat-muzzled laser pistol materialized in his hand. He raised it toward Sebastian.

  Ness cried out and flung himself in front of the alien. "He's a friend!"

  Tristan bolted to her feet, drawing her pistol and aiming it at Walt. "Put the weapon down."

  The man's jaw worked. He laughed, swore, and lowered his laser. "I don't mean to alarm you, but there appears to be an alien at your table."

  "His name's Sebastian," Ness said. "And he's on our side."

  "A little warning might have been nice." Walt looked from person to person. "And we're absolutely sure he's friendly? Not some kind of assassin here to get me?"

  "Maybe the new mothership is only here for you, too," the blond woman said. She coughed into her hand. "If you surrender to their probes, I'm sure they'll leave the rest of us alone."

  "It's not that crazy. Anson offered me up to them as a gift."

  "You knew Anson?" Raina said.

  Walt laughed. "Well enough to want to kill him."

  "Then you will be glad to hear that you weren't alone in that—and that Anson is dead. Be seated."

  The newcomers found chairs. A lengthy round of introductions ensued. Once these wrapped up, Raina gestured to Walt. "You said you had a way to defeat the enemy."

  He shifted in his chair. "I thought I'd come at them with another balloon."

  Mia cocked a brow. "You expect that to work a second time?"

  "Maybe not. But I didn't expect it to work the first time, either, so I'd say our chances are about the same."

  "What will you need for your assault?" Raina said.

  "Not much. A hot air balloon with an intact envelope, a tank of fuel, and as much high explosives as I can carry. Get me that, and I can hit them tonight."

  "There will be no attacks on the aliens. Not until we're certain they're here to kill us."

  Walt snorted. "The flying battleship isn't proof enough?"

  "Have you ever run into a bear in the woods?"

  "A couple times. Carrie and I used to camp up the coast."

  "And when you saw the bear, did you attack it?"

  "I shouted and waved my arms around," Walt said. "And they went along on their business."

  She held his gaze. "If you fight everything that could be a threat, you guarantee they will be. And if you start enough fights, you're guaranteed to lose one eventually."

  "We're not having an infinite number of fights with an infinite number of bears. All we have to do is knock down the one ship. If it's here to crush us, and we wait for the crushing to begin before we start fighting back, we could lose everything."

  "Nonetheless, we must wait."

  "Do all the waiting you want. I'm going to find a balloon." Walt stood. "Nice meeting you all."

  Carrie got up, too, grabbing his arm. "Don't tell me you're walking out on this."

  "I didn't come here to get bossed around."

  "Presenting a reasonable argument to you is bossing you around?"

  Tristan leaned back from the table, fighting back her annoyance. "Come on. We've got an alien mothership hanging over the city, and we can't get through one discussion about how to deal with it?"

  "We're doing okay," Ness muttered.

  "If you want to go, then go." Raina stood before the feuding couple. She was shorter than either of them, but they both shut up and listened. "If I was alone, I might do exactly as you wish to. Strike down my foes before they can strike at me. But I'm not alone. I have a nation to protect. One that's been bought with scores of lives. I can't throw this away so recklessly. I can't provoke the bear until I know it means us harm."

  Walt bulged his cheek with his tongue. "I just hate the idea of sitting on our thumbs on the chance the creatures who've spent the last seven years killing us might have developed a conscience."

  "I hate it, too. But if they're here for war, then I'll stand on a field of their skulls before it's done."

  The man chuckled. "Are you for real?"

  Raina drew her sword and held it over her palm. "Would you like me to swear it?"

  "Would you? I've never seen a blood oath before." Beside him, Carrie punched him in the shoulder; Walt winced. "All right. We'll try it your way. On one condition: that we stay ready to hit them where it hurts at a moment's notice."

  "I wouldn't have it any other way." Raina returned to her seat. She waited for the others to do the same. "Here is my proposal. Those of you with the submarine will carry our citizens to safety. My people will prepare for battle, including the balloon. And I will rally more fighters from our holdings in the north."

  "Works for us," Ness said. "Agreed?"

  "Hell yeah," Sprite said. Sam and Sebastian both nodded.

  So did Tristan. "Let's get to work."

  Walt looked around the table. "And what do I get to do?"

  "We're going to need many scouts," Raina said. "Especially if the Swimmers choose to set foot in the city."

  "I can scout."

  "Very well." The girl-commander stood from the table. Tristan couldn't decide if the icy resolve on such a young face was inspiring or disturbing. "Then let's prepare to welcome them to Los Angeles."

  * * *

  Hammering out the details of their duty took another hour. Tristan didn't understand the holdup. All they needed to do was cross to Catalina, point at the giant ship, and tell everyone to line up at the docks. They could have the first batch of civilians ferried to the allegedly reformed Better San Diego by mid-afternoon.

  To provide the Catalinans with a familiar face, Raina attached two of her people to the sub crew: Bryson, a greasy-haired enforcer, and Allie, a young woman who knew her way around Catalina. Ness showed them both onto the boat and closed the hatch.

  "We have a few rules here," Tristan said to the newcomers. "First, don't touch anything. If anyone dents the sub, the nearest alien body shop is a million billion miles away."

  Bryson gazed up at the dank ceiling, sniffing at the air, which was briny and kelpy. The olfactory byproduct of the food-growing machine. "Don't worry. I don't even want to put ass to seat inside this tub."

  "Second, while we like to keep things low-key around here, if we run into an emergency, it becomes a military dictatorship. You get an order, then you make it happen."

  "Look, I work for Attila the Hun. I know how the chain of command works."

  "Understood," Allie said, staring Tristan straight in the eye.

  The girl had the same seriousness and preternatural sense of self as Raina. It was weird. Almost fascist. Back in her classes at Berkeley, Tristan had thought of her generation as the one that was different. The one that would change things. Now, though, she knew she was nothing more than a dead end. Those who'd grown up with the plague as a way of life were going to make her look like a dinosaur. A plush toy one.

  The ship hummed to life, gently maneuvering away from the berth. With less than an hour until they'd make landfall at Catalina, she gathered everyone but Sebastian (who was piloting the sub) in the galley. That included Bryson and Allie, but she didn't care what they heard.

  "I'm glad to be taking people out of harm's way." Tristan sat in the booth they'd installed, tracing her finger around the table. "But I'm not convinced the balloon strategy's going to work a second ti
me. We should work on alternative ways to assault the ship."

  Ness grabbed a seat beside her. "Shouldn't we be talking about how we're going to approach the Catalinans?"

  Bryson folded his arms and leaned against a bulkhead, then withdrew from it with a look of distaste. "No need. First time you all came around with your alien sub and your warnings, Mauser established an evacuation protocol. Only thing you need to do is drive. We'll take care of the rest."

  "Right," Tristan said. "We're ferrymen. But this job won't take more than a few days. We need to think about how to stay productive after that."

  Sprite rubbed his hands together. "Back in the first invasion, I saw them throw all kinds of stuff at the ship. Jets. Missiles. It was awesome. But nothing ever made it through."

  "And now we don't have any of that crap," Ness said. "We'd have to hope there's a thermal exhaust port we can drop a bomb down."

  "And that it's bigger than a womp rat."

  Tristan tapped the table. "We've been fighting these things for years. Surely we can come up with something."

  Sam got a tub of algae out of one of the fridge drawers built into the wall. "We're outmanned and outgunned. We can't afford to assault a fortified position."

  "I know you're not saying we should give up."

  "Does that sound like me?" She forked rubbery green glop into her mouth. "If they want to take the Earth, they'll have to occupy it. That's when they'll be vulnerable. That's when it makes sense to fight. Guerrilla action."

  "I was afraid that's where you were going."

  "It won't be pretty. But that's how we win. And you want to do it right? You don't stop with L.A. We've seen survivors everywhere we've been. Maui. New Zealand. San Diego. Sri Lanka."

  Tristan picked at the flaking formica on the edge of the table. "You want to bring them here."

  "That's one option. But this submarine is more than a transport. It's also one of the last ways we have to pass information around the world. The more places we spread the word, the better our chances to succeed."

  "A mission like that would take months," Ness said. "By the time we got done, everyone here might be dead."

  Sam lifted one shoulder. "Then leaving this place will have been the correct decision. No offense, Bryson."