Enemy tst-1

by Paul Evan Hughes

  “What level are you?”

  “K.”

  “Jesus. The highest level I had ever heard of was an H-level.”

  “How much do you know about us?”

  “Only what was published in the medical journals.”

  She was secretly relieved.

  “How many of you were hidden?”

  “I only know of three. Two K’s and an L. There might have been more”

  “You were too much of an investment to kill off.”

  She sat in the dark, contemplating. “Something like that.”

  Hayes laughed, shook his head. She trusted him already. There was just something about him…

  “Well, my new friend, your secret is safe with me. I have other patients to tend to. It was a pleasure to meet you, Ember Magdalene Flynn.”

  Their gazes locked in the shadows.

  “Ember is my Styx code. No one calls me that anymore. Call me Maggie.”

  “Alright. It was a pleasure to meet you, Maggie.”

  He grinned as he walked into the darkness.

  West had seen each of his compatriots neatly cut apart by the Black. It would have been quite an accomplishment for even the most seasoned soldier to escape that barrage. West admitted that he had an advantage.

  He was a K-level Styx.

  Against overwhelming odds, he destroyed the entire squad of the Black single-handedly. They were unprepared for him, a human that could fight back.

  A sound from above drew his attention upward.

  A sleek sliver of black plummeted from the heavens. It fell to earth and buried itself upright into the bombed ruins of Chicago. The earth shook as it broke the surface and finally came to rest. Another two of the vessels flew overhead, traveling west. Their shadows passed over him, blocking out the sun for an instant.

  Strangely, the sun seemed dimmer. Colder. The sky was gauzy, covered in a gray haze that West had never before seen.

  He stood up, stretched, and began to walk.

  He realized that he was one of three people on the planet who could withstand the Black.

  Flynn jumped to her feet. What was that?

  Another explosion rocked the tunnel. People stood, still groggy from the sleep of exhaustion. They looked like spirits of the damned in the green ghost glow.

  Yet another explosion. The sound of twisting metal came from above them.

  “Run! Get down the tunnel, all of you!”

  Flynn helped Hayes lift an injured man to his feet. People ran, staggered, limped into the blackness of the tunnel, abandoning their shelter.

  A horrendous crash of steel girders and concrete followed them down the tunnel. The Black had breached their stronghold.

  There came to them the sound of lighter crashes and heavy footsteps. Flynn stopped running and fell behind the group.

  “Hurry up! They’re coming!”

  “I know.”

  The Enemy was upon them.

  Hayes stepped into their path as if to protect Flynn. She shoved him out of the way and then the destruction began.

  In the glow of his chemlite, Hayes saw the Black rush at him, humanoid, yet monstrous, innately alien, yet somehow familiar.

  Flynn ran at the Enemy and disappeared.

  Hayes blinked, certain that it had been an optical illusion.

  Women don’t just vanish.

  The first Enemy creatures in the line erupted.

  Limbs flew from the bloody mass that had been the Enemy. The massive body fell only a few feet from Hayes. He was bathed in a warm, sticky fluid as pieces of the Enemy monster flew at him. With a morbid fascination, Hayes realized that the creatures that were the Black bled also.

  Four Enemy left. Hayes stood in terror as one’s head was torn from its body by an unseen force. Another’s chest exploded. The remaining two were cleanly cut in half in mid-stride.

  Hayes stood among the carnage.

  There was a flicker in the dark in front of him.

  She was there, standing calmly, out of breath, shaking visibly. Her hands still flickered, and looking at them was like looking at something though glass on a sunny day. They were there, but not there. In a flash, they solidified. Hayes blinked.

  “That’s why I was too much of an investment to kill off.”

  West gazed at the sun.

  The watch on his wrist had been shattered long ago, but his inner clock told him it was early afternoon, between noon and one o’clock, the part of the day when the sun was the highest in the sky. Brightest in the sky.

  Something was wrong.

  West noted how the sunlight striking him did not warm him, as if it had lost its energy, its warmth, on the ninety-three million mile journey to Earth.

  The sun seemed dim. Used.

  What the hell is going on?

  The world had been in turmoil for one week.

  Apparently mankind had fallen. This fact in and of itself neither shocked nor surprised West, only the manner of the end of society as he knew it mildly disturbed him. He had never been a believer in UFO’s,

  what about the vessel in the mountain((?))

  don’t you want to go back to the light((?))

  wasn’t it the heaven you’ve been searching for all your life((?))

  but the visual evidence before him was conclusive. Aliens had conquered the world.

  All he had to do to find proof of this hypothesis was to look up at the sky.

  The sun was fading.

  Great dark shapes could be seen flying above the atmosphere even now in daylight, hideous black nightmare fish floating just beneath the surface of a tranquil forest pool. Smaller dark shapes periodically launched from the larger vessels. Some entered the atmosphere and set about an unknown mission. The gauzy substance in the sky had darkened considerably since he had last looked up.

  He looked east, toward what had once been Chicago. The vessel that had landed there sat vertically amidst the ruins. What were they doing in there?

  The number of vessels circling the planet was increasing, like predators coming for a piece of the kill. West shuddered.

  The sun gazed coldly down upon him.

  He had to find others. There had to be more people left alive, hiding.

  He walked.

  Arizona.

  The Black closed in on a man in the desert.

  The man stood his ground.

  The Black rushed at him. He remained calm. His eyes opened. Two gray orbs stared out upon the scene of destruction. The Enemy had slaughtered the entire group with whom he had been traveling.

  Twenty feet.

  He closed his eyes. When they opened, they burned with an impossible silver fire.

  Ten feet.

  Time stopped. The Black erupted in a flash of silver and violet light. The remnants fell to the ground. The shards of black puddled into mercury and seeped into the thirsty desert floor in a somehow obscene descent.

  Time began once more. The man stood in a circle of black ash twenty feet across.

  He smiled and went on his way.

  His name was Richter.

  He was the L-level Styx.

  black

  tangible. maddening. smothering.

  black

  innate

  they came.

  beyond infinity and possibility. from beginning to end, from time entire, the black converged. wherever they passed, they left a crimson swathe in their wake.

  the Purpose would be completed.

  the prodigal children of Omega would be brought back into the fold.

  within the blackness that was entire, an insanity flourished. thoughts fluttered.

  the putrescence of the possible.

  subordinate to commander, an exchange. a conversation.

  THE PURPOSE IS SERVED((?))

  HARVEST COMMENCES. UPLOAD COMMENCES. LIGHT FADES. THE PATTERN COALESCES.

  ALL THEN IS WELL. DOES THE PRESENCE OF BLASPHEMY HINDER US ONCE MORE((?))

  THEY HAVE BEEN DRIVEN OFF FOR NOW.

&
nbsp; TO RECOUP, NO DOUBT…

  NO DOUBT.

  contemplation. palaver of damnation.

  ALLWHENS JOIN THE HARVEST((?))

  A CERTAINTY. ETERNITY’S RIGHTEOUS COME FORTH TO SHARE IN THESE HOLY SPOILS.

  PURPOSE BE. LIFEBLOOD IS SPILLED.

  PURPOSE BE. INQUIRY. WHEN DOES NEXT HARVEST TARGET ARISE((?))

  EVEN AS WE BATHE IN THE BLOOD OF THIS WHEN, YOU CRAVE MORE((?))

  I CRAVE THE PURPOSE.

  suspicion.

  YOUR THOUGHTS. SHARE.

  SEIZE MY ESSENCE. KNOW ME.

  ecstasy. a flash of coexistence. a newfound insight.

  YOU SEE((?))

  LOGIC IS SERVED. YOUR THOUGHTS ARE TRUE.

  VICTORY WILL BE OURS. PURPOSE WILL BECOME. WE WILL HUNT THEM DOWN AND BURN THEIR HIVES WITH THE FIRE OF OMEGA. VICTORY WILL BE OURS.

  A CERTAINTY. I BOW TO YOUR FORESIGHT.

  rapture.

  GO THEN. PURPOSE BE. FIND THEIR HIVES AND CLEANSE THEM.

  the black parts once more.

  The web of souls that was the Enemy was pleased.

  The Harvest was proceeding at a phenomenal rate. The asteroid belt was stripped of volatiles. The gaseous planets were being siphoned. The solid planets were undergoing reclamation. And the third planet…

  Oh, the third planet. Luscious.

  It was the only planet in the system that sustained life. Well, had sustained life. Living matter, with all of its rich bioneural energy. So many patterns to upload…

  Souls were being gathered.

  The planet had held nine billion humans. Already, eight billion had been harvested. The rest were either in hiding or dead in the wake of the final, sporadic urban warfare. With few exceptions, it had been an easy victory. They had of course had to level the cities and drive the vermin into the open before they could gather them for upload. Some of the vermin had been particularly stubborn, and they had paid for their defiance with their souls. The population that still resisted was as of yet a manageable percentage of the populace. Their cities had been burned to the ground; their weapons were useless. The web solidifying around the planet would soon siphon the atmosphere, making the planet uninhabitable for those pathetic organics. The prey in hiding would be either found and harvested or dead themselves soon.

  The great Enemy motherships came from the Whenstream and set to work dismantling that which had been the Sol system. All volatiles had to be harvested to serve the Purpose. Everything had to be uploaded to create the necessary heavens.

  Many orbited the sun or the fifth planet, a gas giant, reaping it layer by layer. The Enemy vessels around the sun set about the difficult task of collapsing the star into a When hole. Day by day, as their mission came closer to realization, the star faded.

  Still other vessels patrolled the timesweep waves emanating from the Whenstream for any sign of the Judas. Soon, there would be no more worry. A large force had been sent to destroy or upload as many of the known Judas forts in the Stream as possible. The realization of the Purpose was now a tangible goal.

  So soon…

  The bulk of the Enemy force orbited the third planet, tending to the reaping of the populace. The vessels synthesized a spidery web around the planet. Periodically, smaller vessels would drift down from this web to the planet surface, landing at one of the fallen major cities that had been spared the atomic suicide of the last days.

  This was the time of the Black.

  She thought they were flying.

  There were sounds in this utter darkness: the sounds of humanity. Sobbing, coughing, gasping. Dying.

  She was standing, pressed against others in the black. Some slept standing, for there simply was no room to lay down. The large man next to her had died sometime during the night. She could do nothing but let the dead weight lean on her.

  Many of the group had died.

  Her prayers had not helped her.

  The soldiers who had stormed into the church were torn apart as the parishioners looked on by an unseen force that arrived on a veil of purple and silver so light that one could barely discern whether it was really visible or just imagined. What followed the veil was definitely visible: an assemblage of large, silent, impossible monsters, tall, cloaked in black, speaking with a voice like spiders and acid and fear that came from their minds and not their mouths because they didn’t have any mouths they didn’t have faces they—

  She took a deep breath, trying not to remember and not succeeding at all.

  They had been herded from the church like cattle and joined hundreds, perhaps thousands of others grouped on U.S. Route 11 outside of Roanoke, Virginia. The assemblage was circled by the monstrous things.

  A low rumbling from overhead drew her attention.

  A massive jet-black vessel thrust through the clouds and gently landed just to the north on the highway. Its size was beyond her comprehension, perhaps hundreds, perhaps thousands of feet, perhaps miles long. Impossible, she thought.

  From its underside a walkway descended.

  The horror of what was about to happen dawned on her.

  The aliens began to force the group toward the vessel, not with weapons but with the Voice that cut so deeply into her soul, toward the waiting maw of the black interior. Some people openly resisted, and they simply became motionless, paralyzed from an unseen force. They remained where they were as the huge crowd filled the vessel.

  She ascended the ramp into the innate blackness within the ship. A vaguely human, organic scent washed over her. Other people had been in there before. As the crowd pushed against her, she was forced into an already-overcrowded corner of the tremendous room.

  At long last, the entire group was within the vessel’s confines, except the small group of men and women who had tried to fight. They stood outside the vessel, motionless except for eyes, terrible eyes moving because they could why can their eyes move like like animals trapped they looked with their moving desperate eyes.

  As the ramp slid up into the vessel’s underside and the large doors began to cycle closed, she saw one of the aliens turn back to the frozen men and women and even children and without a motion it seemed their eyes exploded outwards as their minds were torn apart by the black black monster. Only then did their bodies move; they fell so terribly limply dead to the ground, blood in puddles everywhere, horrendous lifeless bodies stippling the stylish black recently repaved highway. Their bodies were immediately consumed by grotesquely winding tendrils of silver metal until they were nothing but husks on the ground. The aliens walked from the pile of gore and jumped onto the quickly ascending ramp.

  God save them.

  The doors closed with a resounding thud, a deep and horrible sound, a sound like an impossibly large coffin door closing. Blackness fell.

  Her name was Patra Jennings.

  She was the daughter of the President.

  The light of day once more bathed them, yet it seemed distant. Colder. The crack made by the opening doors grew wider.

  She had felt the vibration around her, but in her semi-trance she had not realized that the vessel was landing until it gave a sudden jolt and stilled. At long last the doors slid open. Small groups of people began to disembark, descending the ramp.

  Because she was near a corner, Patra was one of the last to leave the vessel. She was relieved to be out of the nauseating confines of the room, ripe with the putrescence of the dead and human waste.

  She followed the lines of people to another holding area ringed by the aliens. She didn’t know where they were; it might have been one of the bombed-out cities. Chunks of asphalt below her, rubble around her. It looked as if a city had been picked up into the air and then thrown back to the ground. Perhaps it had; surveying the horizon revealed the impossibly tall edges of a blast crater. A sheer rock face created a solid wall in every direction. Running would serve no purpose.

  The sky was blacker here.

  As she looked around, she noticed that the vessel they had arrived in was far from alon
e. The vessels stretched away as far as she could see, landing, taking off.

  Unloading.

  She shuddered.

  They stood in the shadow of a building.

  Building? No; all of the buildings had been destroyed.

  The great black edifice before her was some kind of vessel, different than the others, sunk into the ground, stretching upward at an impossible cant. A barely-discernible line of light was being emitted from the top of the vessel, stretching up into the heavens.

  Something about that vessel…That light…

  She forcibly pulled her thoughts from the spire and saw groups of people gathered at its base. Lines of men and women snaked into the vessel. Endless lines.

  Patra studied the aliens circling her group. They looked…vaguely familiar. They were humanoid, two arms and two legs, but they had no facial features, only a blank…faceplate? Of course. Aliens wouldn’t be able to breathe our air, so they’d wear a space suit. These were only shells. Who knew what kind of creature existed below the armor?

  The people were getting restless. There were many whispers, hushed. Patra saw many looks of terror, shock, incomprehension, resignation, hatred, suspicion.

  A large group of men was having a clandestine conversation. She could sense that they were plotting something…Patra unconsciously began to back away from the band of conspirators.

  Their group was the next in line at the base of the monolith. Whatever was going to happen, it wouldn’t be much longer…The aliens began to close in.

  “NOW!!”

  About fifty men charged from the crowd at one of the creatures. The response was immediate.

  Until now, the aliens had used some kind of mental force, some hideous extension of the subconscious Voice that permeated everything, as a weapon. No one had seen the shields.

  The progress of the conspirators was halted by a suddenly visible spherical shield that emanated from the Black. It glowed a dark, clouded violet.

  The men who ran into it were blackened and charred as they were set on fire. Cries of agony as their flaming bodies were quickly consumed by the same silver mesh that had engulfed the people killed outside of the transport vessel.

  The rest of the conspirators faltered, halted.

  This whole occurrence was not overlooked by the other aliens, but they made no attempt to interfere or assist their comrade, who stood calmly within the purple bubble. There were several piercing flashes of light and several more aliens materialized right in front of Patra. A silvery endostructure emerged from the flashes of light, and a hard black shell solidified around it. These new arrivals made no movements, but simply watched the events around them unfold.