Earthweeds

by Rod Little

  He put his glasses back on. “If we follow protocol, let me do the examining, then I'll go.”

  “I should go, too,” Max said.

  “No, you stay here and keep working on our project.”

  “It will be dangerous,” Sam warned. “We have to blast through their lines and keep them away from the object while we study it. If we fail, we'll be...”

  “We'll be lizard chow,” Shane finished the sentence. He enjoyed being blunt. “The odds of survival are two million to one.”

  “Is that true?” Margaret asked, furrowing her brow.

  “No, no,” Sam said quickly, flashing an admonishing glare at his brother. “He doesn't have those kind of math skills, he's not Mr. Spock. My brother just likes to be dramatic. The truth is, it may be dangerous, but we have a good chance of success. And most of all – we have to try.”

  “We'll look after your husband, ma'am,” Stu said with bogus confidence and no idea if he could keep the promise. He smiled at her warmly.

  Walter had made up his mind. “Okay.”

  “We need to go quickly,” urged George. “We had a nice surprise effect getting here, but it will wear off soon. The enemy is sure to regroup.”

  “Let me get some things.”

  Walter collected a few special tools and instruments in a bag. He kissed his wife on the cheek, then squeezed her arm. Always more emotional, she hugged him tightly for a long minute.

  “I'm ready,” he said.

  “Good Luck, Walt, and be careful,” Max said to his colleague.

  Walter nodded and shook hands with Max and two other men in the room. No one had been introduced. “The fence,” he said to Jake, who had been silent up till that point.

  “I've got it,” Jake said.

  “Turn the fence off and move it until we get out, then get it back up. Activate it immediately when it's up again. And best of luck!”

  Jake signaled “okay” with his thumb and forefinger together. They had moved the fence a few times before; he had the routine down pat.

  “We'll give you as much time as we can,” George told him. “We'll keep the critters busy as long as we can.”

  Walter got in the passenger seat of the jeep, and Camila drove. Sam wanted to be hands-free in the back. His spark might be needed on this leg of the journey.

  Walter's men parted the fence, and the tanks lumbered forward, two in the front, then the jeep, followed by two tanks in the back. At the front, George and Stu shot round after round into the black horde. Dead reptile bodies flew in all directions. The rapid fire of volleys sent the lizards running again. They backed away, and gave the procession room to move forward. The spiders had scurried to the west hills to stay clear of the tank blasts. They were keeping thousands of lizards from joining the rest of their scaly army. Everyone was doing their part.

  Behind them, Walter's men realigned and activated the fence again.

  To the front, thousands of vicious creatures slowly retreated, but could be seen mustering in a valley no more than a mile ahead. Getting past that would be a bloody task, and the group still had fifty miles to pass in order to reach the alien probe.

  “You alright driving?” Sam asked Camila.

  She nodded, but didn't look at him. She kept her eyes fixed on the road.

  “Doctor, take this,” he handed Walter a pistol. “You might need it.”

  Walter put his bag of tools on the floor, and gripped the pistol with both hands. He looked back at Sam. “I've never fired one of these. I've never held one before.”

  “Plenty of practice coming up ahead,” Sam motioned to the front. “You'll get the hang of it, I'm sure. Just don't shoot your own foot. And don't shoot me!”

  The two rear tanks trundled up alongside the jeep on each side, and started firing. The loud blasts unsettled Walter, and even Sam, for that matter. Today was gearing up to be a rough day, and this was just the beginning.

  Chapter 32

  The tanks continued to fire as they moved forward, and the jeep bumped along with them, struggling to keep up. A rolling metal chain of destruction over open fields and rocky terrain, the armored vehicles pushed the enemy back. At several points their blasts blew holes in the terrain ahead of them and formed trenches which the vehicles then would have to drive over. This was no problem for the tanks, but the jeep was certainly being pushed to its limit. On several occasions its wheels got bogged down or stuck in the furrows and ditches. Adding to choppy terrain were all the dead bodies of dismembered lizards, which forced the jeep to slow down even more. Avoiding holes, dirt mounds, body parts, and other obstacles was making Camila's job difficult. They were forced to grind on in low gear.

  More clouds converged overhead, crowding and darkening the sky with the threat of rain. If that happened, it would turn this dirt into mud, and the jeep would be in real trouble. As long as the ground stayed dry, they could still forge ahead, albeit slowly.

  At first there was little resistance from the lizards. The spiders kept most of them out of their way, and the rest were easily blown to smithereens. The war party thundered ahead all afternoon, slowly making progress and getting closer and closer to the city. The tank patrol put more than forty-five miles behind them before they hit their first real snag. A few miles from their objective, a river needed to be crossed by a steel tied-arch bridge spanning four hundred feet. This was blocked by a tightly packed horde of creatures. Any shelling from the big guns might bring down the whole structure and remove their chance of crossing the river. They faced the possibility they might need to get out and clear the bridge with guns, hand to hand and face to face with the reptiles. Given its length, clearing it on foot would be a serious challenge.

  George stopped his tank just short of the bridge entrance, and popped up out of his hatch. “Any ideas?”

  The others emerged from their own armored vehicles, guns in hand. They looked visibly shaken by the drive so far.

  “We can get out, push them back with gunfire,” Shane said. “We'll move forward in a line, and shoot until the bridge is free.”

  “You're crazy,” Camila said. “That won't work.”

  Stu agreed. “Look on the other side. Plenty of reinforcements to keep at us. It would take us a week to kill all these things with just pistols and rifles.”

  “Use the tanks, the smaller 7mm guns?” Shane offered.

  “That bridge is already about to collapse,” George observed, pointed to the cracked supports. “It's old and the weight of all those things on it... even the tanks might be too much. One or two blasts, and it's coming down.”

  “He's right,” said Walter. His face was pale, and he looked ill from motion sickness. This trip was taking its toll on him. He was a scientist, not a soldier. “The construction looks old. It's unsteady. I do not think it can withstand any violent disturbance.”

  Bohai came up behind Sam and put his hand on his shoulder. “Sam can do this.”

  “Me? Do what?”

  “You can clear the bridge, Sam.”

  “Me? I can't.”

  “You can.” Bohai sounded sure.

  School's out, man.

  “What's he talking about?” Walter asked. George was a little puzzled, too.

  “Just watch,” Bohai said. “It's easier than explaining.”

  “Sam, no,” Shane pleaded. “You don't have to.”

  Sam hesitated, then stepped toward the bridge, and Bohai walked beside him. “I'll go with you, man. I'll stay right behind you.” Bohai got his pistol out and held it ready. “Be strong. Don't be afraid.”

  “If I get eaten, my brother will kill you,” Sam warned. “I'm just saying...”

  “You got this, man.”

  They stepped onto the bridge, and Shane came up a yard behind with his rifle loaded and ready. The others watched with astonishment, not at all sure what was happening.

  As the two boys closed in on the reptiles, the first line backed away. It was as if the creatures sensed something was wrong. When Sam sparked up
his hands, they flinched. Primal fear glowed in their red parietal eyes.

  Sam created two spheres, one in each hand. He thrust them forward and blew four lizards into the water. The others stepped backward, as Sam continued to walk forward. He closed his eyes and created a shield about six feet high and ten feet across, and held it in front of him as he walked. He could hear Bohai's steps behind him.

  A group of confused lizards found courage at that moment and stopped backing away. When Sam was toe to toe with the front line, he push forward and burned several of them with his electric shield. It created a searing charge of blue sparks when each creature touched it. One brave reptile attacked; it rushed forward and leaped into the air toward Sam. It hit the shield and was instantly fried. Its body rolled off the bridge and into the river.

  Sam concentrated and expanded the shield. In a thrust, he pushed it forward and toasted another two dozen lizards. Some of the dragons behind them started to retreat, climbing over each other to back away. A few dove into the river. Stu and George aimed their rifles at the water and started to pick them off, making sure the beasts would abort any plans to swim to their side.

  Sam pushed forward again. A headache swelled in his right temple. His ears began to ring.

  Bohai and Shane ran back to the others, shouted, “Come on! Quick!”

  They got back into their tanks, and started the engines. Bohai's armored machine lurched forward onto the bridge. The others disappeared back into their own tanks and followed him in single file, leaving several yards between each other. Camila started the jeep and entered the bridge last.

  A dozen giant spiders appeared from nowhere, scrambling out from the deep grass, and formed a barrier to protect the jeep. Their objective was to keep this side of the bridge safe until the vehicles crossed. Sam pushed forward again and again, and more reptiles fell into the river. Those who survived the dive swam to the nearest shore. Another squad of spiders immediately killed them at the top of the river bank.

  At last, the bridge was theirs. Sam stepped onto the other side, and sank to his knees. He was spent. The lizards saw this and tried to move forward again in a fresh assault on the boy, but the tanks began to fire again.

  Bohai was now across the bridge and shot several rounds into the enemy horde. George followed suit, and they managed to hold them back until the jeep could reach Sam. Bohai jumped from his tank and helped Sam into the jeep. He nearly had to carry him. Shane also dismounted and ran to his brother.

  “Talk to me Sammy, you okay?”

  “Keep going,” Sam said. His voice was weak. “Don't stop.”

  Bohai touched Sam's cheek and forehead, both burning with fever. “You are incredible, man.”

  Stu and George continued shelling the front line, and pushed it back another twenty yards. Bohai and Shane climbed back in their tanks, and the group started forward once more. They blasted the disorganized lizards mercilessly, and punched another hole in their lines. Full speed ahead, the jeep and four tanks barreled on.

  Walter sat in the back with Sam and checked his vital signs. Sam assured him that he was fine, but Walter insisted. “I am a doctor, son. Be quiet and let me check you.”

  “I just need a couple hours to rest.”

  “That was incredible, what you did,” Walter remarked. “I would love to know how you achieved that electric field. Later, we should talk about this.”

  “That should be fun.” Sam closed his eyes and rested.

  An hour later, they reached their mission's target. The alien object they sought lay in front of them: a round probe sat on loose soil a hundred yards away. Sam opened his eyes and took a moment to realize they had arrived. It was here.

  The object wasn't what he had expected. He had assumed it would be a small probe, some device looking like a miniature satellite, or an alien probe droid. Instead, this was much bigger, more than twenty feet in diameter, and looked like a big gray onion. It actually bore a close resemblance to a flying saucer from any of a hundred old sci-fi movies he loved to watch. A glass dome covered the top half. It was tinted glass, partly masking what lay underneath, but a slow spinning mechanism could be seen below the curves of the dome; they could barely make it out. Black numbers appeared distinctly on the dark gray metal surface of its outer hull: 40050.

  The entire machine rested at a slight angle on uneven ground in a gully, which hid it from view for miles in any direction. It was unclear whether the gully was a natural formation or had been made by the landing of the craft itself. The object sat motionless and appeared to be lifeless, except for a small blue light blinking at its crest, and the spinning orb inside.

  “Aliens use the same numbers as us?” Stu asked.

  “Anything is possible,” Walter whispered, mainly to himself. He stood still for a moment, then walked toward the craft.

  There were no lizards in the area. After the tanks and spiders had punched their way through a sizable part of the army, the horde now started to scatter. The spiders helped push them further south. Yet none of them appeared anywhere near this object.

  When Walter reached it, he extended a hand and touched its metallic side. He laid his right palm down against the surface, and felt it tremble ever so slightly – the pulse of an engine or battery inside.

  “Well, it didn't melt his hand off,” Shane said. They all looked at him. “That's good news, right?”

  Sam stepped up next to Walter and examined the object, whatever this was. He also touched it, and felt the low power it generated. The light at the top still blinked; it showed no concern for the intruders touching its surface.

  When the tanks had all been shut down, the area became quiet, and they heard the object's low hum. The wind picked up, and the skies still threatened to rain. The clouds turned black but held firm for now. It was an eerie scene, in the middle of a field situated less than a mile inside the Pittsburgh city limits, on the city side of the river. In the distance ahead they could see the tall skyscrapers of the downtown area, the iconic US Steel Building and PPG Place. Behind them lay the destruction they themselves had brought to the land. Mounds of blasted dirt and lizard body parts stretched out for many miles in their wake.

  And here before them was a metallic object from space. It squatted on this Earth and mocked them with a single light that said: you don't matter, your time is over. It didn't care they were there at its side. The object was confident they could do it no harm. Weak Earthlings, you cannot hurt me.

  They were out to prove it wrong.

  Walter ran his hand along the entire metal surface, searching for any cracks or breaks, any sign of a door that might open. He circled the object, examining its round body. The only apertures were two round vents the size of tennis balls, open at either side. Then he checked underneath, running his hands along its surface. He couldn't find any other rifts or fissures.

  “Unless something is on top,” Walter said, “I can't find any way to open it. I'm too short to reach up there.” The object stood twelve feet high.

  “Boost me up,” Sam told Shane. His brother helped him up and let him stand on his shoulders while Sam checked the top of it. He ran his hand along the dome and flicked the light with this thumb and forefinger. It did not react. He jumped back down.

  “I don't see anything. Looks pretty solid.”

  “Maybe we can shoot something into those holes,” George said. He pointed at the vents. “Maybe even use the big guns.”

  Walter shook his head. “Let's call that plan B. I'd like to get into this thing without destroying it. This may be the key to everything.” He reached into his instrument bag and pulled out a hand-held scanner. It buzzed to life. Slowly he scanned the surface of the object and recorded the results.

  “I've never seen anything like that before,” George said in a low voice to the others. “Did this guy just beam down from the Enterprise? Or from CIA? Roswell or something?”

  Walter overheard, turned to him and said, “Something like that. Can you give me a hand here? H
old this scanner right up to the opening here.”

  While George held the scanner, Walter listened at the second aperture for any signs of change.

  “So what does it tell you?” Sam asked. He and Camila were both touching the side of the object again, dazzled by its sleek alien configuration. Sam loved its cool smooth surface. He did not want to stop touching it.

  “Micro-organism living on its hull,” Walter replied.

  Sam and Camila yanked their hands back. Camila instinctively wiped her hand on her jeans. She stepped away from the object.

  “Is it dangerous?” She asked.

  “Maybe,” Walter said. He was never one to sugar coat anything. He didn't see the need. “Most of these organism are on everything here on Earth. Simple bacteria, nothing to be too concerned about. But there are unusual fungi fighting for the same space.” He continued to read the results on his scanner. “Very strange. I've never seen these before.”

  The scientist wiped the hull with a cotton swab and sealed it in a small tube. He tucked the tube in a pouch within his bag. Then he began examining the craft with a series of more bizarre instruments.

  “You think this is what distributed the bio-weapon?” George asked.

  “This and others like this,” Walter answered. “I do think so, yes.”

  “So let's turn it off.” Sam said

  “I'm not sure exactly how to do that. Do you have any ideas?”

  “Yeah. I got one,” George said, his frustration showing through. He stepped up and put his pistol directly into the closest vent hole. He fired. Nothing happened. The bullet disappeared with no effect.

  “I am sure there is a mechanism to retain projectiles inside there,” Walter explained. “This thing has traveled across galaxies, I do not think they overlooked the possibility of a gun-type weapon upon landing here.” He paused and turned back to George. “Please refrain from doing that again.”