Extinction: The Will of the Protectors

by Jay Korza

  “Whoever is outside the door,” Zinner began, “I have the kid who stole your wallet. I’m opening the door and sending him out. I apologize for any hardship this little event has put you through.”

  The door unlocked and one of the men on the other side pulled it open. Zinner saw the two marines and immediately realized that he had been played by Mouse, but one thing still bugged him more than anything at this point. His security had been breached and he wanted to know how. “Before you go, tell me, how did you get in here without me seeing you?”

  Mouse smiled. “Part of your protocol is to bring your hall monitors in the room with you, to use as a buffer. I had already made it past them through the service tunnel and I was waiting in the locker room. When the first few monitors were retreating back to the apartment, I just blended in with them and kept my head down. You weren’t paying attention to the kids coming in, so you never saw me.”

  Zinner shook his head. “Mouse? More like RAT. A dirty, filthy rat.”

  “Now, I may be new to this situation and not know everything that’s going on,” the lieutenant began, “but the kid is the one with the gun. You might want to watch what you’re saying.”

  “Fuck you.” Zinner almost spat at the marines but thought better of it. “Take your wallet and that little shit if you want, I don’t care. But then get the hell out of my house. You’re not welcome.” Zinner sat heavily in his chair behind the perceived but unrealistic feeling of safety that his desk gave him.

  Mouse stepped towards the lieutenant and handed him his wallet. “I’m sorry, sir. I honestly didn’t mean to put you through this kind of trouble.”

  “No worries, kid. Let’s get you two out of here.”

  Mouse turned to look at Zinner one last time. “Don’t ever come looking for us. If you do, I swear I’ll kill you.”

  Zinner leaned forward with his elbows on his desk. “Oh, I’m coming for you, kid. If you’re anywhere on this planet after tonight, I will find you and kill you. Slowly.”

  The lieutenant looked at the Shirka. “Well, I did promise you could kill the next three people.”

  Zinner’s face changed from smug and predatory to scared and regretful. He had mistakenly thought the marine uniforms meant he was safe and the two men wouldn’t—couldn’t—hurt him. But as the Shirka’s face turned to an evil grin and he began to move towards Zinner, he knew he had been wrong. “Wait, no, you can’t. Please, you can’t. I won’t hurt them, I swear. I’m sorry. I won’t ever come after you. I swear!”

  The living embodiment of so many human horror movies slowly walked to the desk and in one swift movement jumped on top of it and landed in a full squatting position. As Zinner wet himself, the Shirka sniffed the air and knew his prey was weak. The alien lifted one of his werewolf-like paws and stretched his fingers and claws out in front of Zinner’s face so he could see what was coming.

  “Okay, he’s going to do this one slowly.” The lieutenant began to usher the kids out of the room. “Everyone out. There isn’t enough therapy in the galaxy to fix any of you if you stay to watch this.”

  After the last kid was out, the lieutenant closed the door as he was saying, “I’ll wait for you out front. Me letting you do it this way counts as three, you know.”

  The Shirka smiled as he tossed his prey a sharp knife. “At least put up a fight.”

  ~

  Once they were in the hallway, the lieutenant looked at the boy who had stolen his wallet. “Mouse, huh?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “After what I saw in there just now, I’d say Snake was a better name.”

  “Sir?”

  “A mouse sneaks and hides in the shadows and is weak. You are not weak. You used the shadows to hunt from, to attack from. You are a predator, not prey. You are a cunning snake, silent and deadly.”

  “Snake. I like that, sir.” Snake looked directly into the man’s eyes. “If you want to turn me in, I’ll go with you to the police. I won’t try to run.”

  “Oh my boy, I want to turn you in, all right.” He looked at his wallet and smiled from ear to ear. “I want to turn you into a marine. You’ve got skills we can use. With the right education and the right guidance, we can make you more than you ever thought possible.”

  Snake thought for a moment. “I won’t go anywhere without my brother.”

  “Of course not. I wouldn’t want to break up a family.” They stopped as they reached the front of the school, waiting for the Shirka to finish and come out to meet them. “Look, I’ll make some calls tonight and get you two enrolled in the school on base. I’m sure we can find a military family who would love to have two foster boys to raise. If worst comes to worst, I’ll pull some strings and get you two situated with a regular Colony foster home. Together, I promise.”

  “Then what?” Snake hadn’t thought much past retirement so this new direction sounded like a good beginning.

  “Then you go to school, be the young men you’re supposed to be.” The lieutenant looked up and saw the Shirka coming towards them. “I’ll check in on you from time to time and make sure you don’t need anything. When you graduate, we’ll talk some more and then go from there. How does that sound?”

  Snake looked at his brother, who just nodded his approval. Snake put his hand out to the lieutenant. “Deal.” The two men shook hands.

  The Shirka walked up and just snorted at the group, his way of saying, “Let’s go.”

  The lieutenant reached up and pulled a piece of clothing and skin out of the larger alien’s fur. “How many times have I told you—don’t play with your food.”

  Back to Previous

  Bloom

  Nancy and Phil were beside themselves with frustration. Their little boy was almost four and still not talking. He made a lot of noise, babbled all day long in fact, making guttural noises intermixed with high-pitched screeches. Never once had he said mommy or daddy.

  Jason had been to a couple of speech therapists who were at a loss for what might be going on with him. When he was with the therapists, Jason didn’t even babble or make any of the other noises he made all day at home. As soon as they left the office, Jason would be back to his own language that no one else could understand.

  Nancy knew her son could understand her even though everyone told her she was wrong. But when she talked, he listened and even responded, though she had no idea what he was saying. If she told him to change his shirt, he did. When she needed help around the house, he would pitch in, as much as a four-year-old could. Even with these and many more examples, Phil would always tell Nancy that she just saw what she wanted to see, and unfortunately their son wasn’t normal and never would be.

  Most Wednesday nights, Phil took Jason to one of his “Humans First” rallies. Phil didn’t consider himself a bigot, racist, or speciest; he just cared about humanity and thought the Coalition was catering to other species and leaving humans behind as fodder for the Coalition’s political agenda. Phil had plenty of human friends who weren’t white so he knew he wasn’t a racist. He also had worked in the past with plenty of other species and didn’t hate them personally; he actually got along with many of them, so he couldn’t be a speciest.

  Phil didn’t want any harm to come to the other species of the galaxy; he just didn’t want them taking human jobs on human worlds. He didn’t want his tax dollars going towards saving a Shirka birthing forest on a planet that he wasn’t even allowed to set foot on lest he become food for the newborn cubs. He was tired of being out of work and seeing more of his benefits being given away to other species instead of the humans who deserved the benefits more.

  Phil arrived and grabbed a doughnut and a cup of coffee from the sign-in table. He tried handing one to Jason but his offer was rebuked with an outstretched hand shaking back and forth no. “Suit yourself, kid. More for me.”

  Jason was usually a very active and interactive child even though he didn’t speak to anyone, but at these weekly meetings he became very withdrawn and tended not to inte
ract at all. Phil thought that being around a lot of people and hearing all of them speaking passionately about their thoughts might just give Jason something to speak about. Some of their passion for communicating might just rub off on his son. But after almost six months of meetings, Jason never showed any sign of improvement.

  This week’s topic was going to be the Coalition’s plan to integrate different species into combined military units. Phil couldn’t believe what they were doing; this was going too far. If there were interspecies military units, what would happen if Earth needed to defend itself against one of the other Coalition member species? How would humans rise up against an alien aggressor if their units had the aggressors mixed in with them? Their aggressors would have access to all of the same equipment, tactics and everything else. Something had to change.

  One of the usual speakers was at the podium, ranting and pounding his fists. It seemed that no matter what he said, people would cheer as long as he pounded his fist somewhere in his sentence. “Rabble rabble rabble”—fist pound—cheering. “Rabble rabble—fist pound—rabble.“ Cheering.

  Phil was getting excited and so spun up that he began making his own speeches to the people around him. He was adding his own thoughts during the natural pauses of the speaker at the podium. The crowd around Phil was now cheering him on, urging him forward towards the podium, some yelling to let him speak too. By the time he was pushed to the podium, the speaker was even encouraging Phil to get on stage.

  Phil took the stage and stood in front of the microphone. At first, he was a little shocked that he was the center of attention. He wasn’t exactly sure how he had made it there or what he should do next. Something in his brain told him to play it safe; start with the material he had already been spouting in the crowd, the stuff that got him there in the first place.

  His first few sentences slobbered out of his mouth awkwardly and barely made sense. He got a few confused looks from the crowd along with a couple of supportive shout outs “Yeah, man!“ The next few lines came out much more coherently but they still didn’t receive the responses he had gotten just a few moments ago.

  The original speaker was starting to sweat a little and made a small tentative step towards Phil. He knew that his moment was about to end if he didn’t get the crowd back. What was missing? Ah ha! Fist pounding! He needed to add some fist pounding.

  Phil pounded his fist into the podium and looked out to the crowd. That got their attention but something was still wrong. A few of the faces towards the front actually looked a little scared. Damn it. The fist pounding doesn’t come before a sentence, never before a sentence. In that context it seems aggressive, even attacking.

  Deep breath. “Rabble rabble rabble.” FIST POUND. Cheering! That was it; Phil had found his rhythm and set into it as though he had invented the podium fist pound. The crowd loved him and cheered for everything he said, even the stuff that didn’t make one lick of sense.

  When it was all over, Phil was taken aside by a few of the men who had organized tonight’s rally. Phil was still high on endorphins from his impromptu presentation so he barely heard most of what was being said to him. The main points did sink in, though; he was asked to speak at a public rally in two weeks. The rally wouldn’t be just for humans; it was going to be in the middle of the town square and open to every citizen who wanted to attend.

  Phil was beside himself with joy. After being unemployed for so long, he finally felt as if he was needed again. In fact, he didn’t think he ever felt this important even while he was working. His work was never really that important and if he were honest with himself, he wasn’t really that good at it, either. But this, this was something that he excelled at. Getting in touch with the people, showing them that they weren’t the only ones who felt this way. Showing the crowds that they weren’t the minority anymore, that they were strong if they stuck together in their fears and ignorance of the real facts. Well, the last part in Phil’s mind was more along the lines of, ‘if they stuck together in their convictions and knowledge of right from wrong.’ Eh, you say tomato, I say idiot.

  When Phil was finally done being patted on the back, he realized that Jason was still somewhere in the crowd and he needed to collect his son before leaving. Phil looked around and finally found Jason under the snack table, crying. Phil had hoped that being on stage and being the center of attention would enthrall his son, maybe even encourage him to talk. All that happened was Jason became more withdrawn tonight and cried like a two-year-old. Phil was so elated from his evening that even this couldn’t bring him down, much.

  Phil got home and told Nancy to put their son to bed. He had great news and wanted to tell her without the crybaby around. He didn’t want anything to detract from his news and didn’t want his wife’s attention divided in the least.

  Nancy knew that Phil had always had issues with their son and a difficult time accepting his situation. This was the first time she had ever seen Phil regard Jason with such contempt and lack of respect. Nancy didn’t know what to do. She knew that she was loyal to her husband above all other people in the universe but one, her son. She hadn’t seen Phil this excited in years so she decided not to broach the subject with him this evening, but she would, and soon. Something needed to change if he expected them to continue as a family.

  Nancy sat next to Jason on his bed and brushed some hair away from his eyes. Jason closed his eyes and nudged his forehead into his mother’s hand. He then babbled and cooed something in his made-up language. Nancy smiled. She recognized the string of babble; she thought it meant something along the lines of “I love you” or “Thank you.” Maybe it was a combination of both or could be used for both. She just seemed to hear this particular string of babble when they were alone with each other and she was doing something particularly motherly. “I love you too, pumpkin.”

  Nancy kissed Jason on the cheek and then left his room, gently closing the door behind her. She walked out in the living room of their one-bedroom apartment. Since Phil had lost his job, Nancy was the only one earning any money and they could barely afford this tiny apartment. Nancy told Phil that once he got a job then he could have his own room but until then, their son would get his own room and a small feeling of normalcy. Phil tried to rebuke her but for the first time in their whole relationship, Nancy was standing firm and he knew that he couldn’t win the argument.

  When Nancy sat on their ragged and stained couch, Phil was already pouring what was probably his second or third glass of whiskey. She sat there and listened to Phil’s news and even managed to look interested in it. She didn’t agree with Phil’s obsession with the humanist movement but it was the one thing that brought him out of his depression after he was laid off. Nancy thought that once the depression lifted, he would find the motivation to get another job.

  That never happened and his depression was replaced with anger. Phil would spout off that he couldn’t find a job because the aliens were taking all of the human jobs and he wasn’t being given a fair chance because of all the affirmative action taking place. Nancy would always point out jobs that Phil was qualified for but he always had an excuse: The job was beneath him. It was manual labor. It was not worth his time. The position was the same as his last and he was destined for more. The jobs he was complaining about being taken from his were jobs that he wasn’t even qualified or trained for.

  As Nancy sat there, she realized that she needed to do something to change her situation. She had promised to love Phil and be with him through the good and bad but this wasn’t the Phil she married. This wasn’t the man she had made those promises to. She was going to let him have his rally and that was it. She would have a talk with him and let him know that he had two weeks to get a job, no matter how menial or low-paying it was. He was going to start being a productive member of this family. She would help him and be his biggest supporter as he looked for something better or even went back to school. But all of this hate and anger and self-pity needed to end, now. Mental fist pound
—cheering.

  In the days that led up to Phil’s rally, Jason seemed more withdrawn to Nancy. The odd thing was that although he was withdrawn from interaction, he seemed to be busy with something. She didn’t know what but he was constantly babbling to himself and pacing. A lot of the babbling seemed the same, as though he was repeating something. He was still affectionate with her, especially when she tucked him in at night, but he was still acting different than usual.

  Phil was also acting different, though not necessarily in a good way. Nancy was so conflicted with her feelings, she didn’t know how to convey what she was thinking. Phil was proud, dedicated, interested, engaging, showered daily and even sober. These were all things that Nancy had wanted for so long but not in the furtherance of hate and discontent. If only he could channel this excitement and focus into their family and finding a job. If he had been like this at his last job, maybe he wouldn’t have been fired. Phil always said he had been laid off but as time wore on, Nancy became sure that that wasn’t the case.

  The day came for his big speech. He had practiced and practiced and felt ready to deliver a speech that he was sure would find its way to a history book somewhere. Phil had to beg Nancy to come and to bring Jason with her. Phil told her that the group had even found speakers from other species who also believed that keeping their people separate was in the best interest of the galaxy.

  Nancy tried to point out the irony that a rally for humanity and species separation was being supported and assisted by other species. Phil just stared at her for almost a full minute. Nancy was sure that she caused her husband to have a stroke or possibly a feedback loop that crashed his brain.

  After Phil had his mental reboot, he just shook his head and told her that she obviously didn’t understand what he was involved in. All the more reason she needed to come and hear his speech, so she could fully understand. It was also important for Jason to be there and learn these ideals that were so very important to all of humanity.