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The Hidden Ship

Page 15

by Mark Wayne McGinnis


  As Titus continued speaking, my eyes locked onto an area he’d drawn in the dirt with his stick. It was located several miles away on the outskirts of the town proper. He’d placed a half-deflated basketball there to symbolize something. I couldn’t recall there ever being much of anything out that way, having traveled the whole county extensively since childhood. I raised a hand, interrupting Titus mid-sentence.

  “What is it, Polybius, I still have a lot yet to get through,” Titus said.

  “What’s that?” I asked, pointing toward my deflated basketball.

  Before Titus could answer, a woman across from me spoke up: “That’s the dome thing the Gaps started erecting a day or so ago. Lots of alien troops there too.”

  “Dome?” Donny repeated. “What kind of dome?”

  Titus said, “The kind that, after much discussion tonight, we can only surmise isn’t intended for anything good. And, added to that fact, they’ve set up what appears to be fenced-in pens. The dome may be a kind of death chamber for the masses . . . for us Humans.”

  “Best you get up to speed on things, Mr. Polybius,” Randy’s mother said. “That there’s a Human concentration camp nearby with only one purpose: our extermination!”

  “Who here has seen this place?” I asked.

  Several people in the crowd raised a hand. Then I noticed Matt’s face. His brow was furrowed and his eyes fixed. He said, “I didn’t realize it before.” His eyes then shifted over to me. “Brian, my parents’ property is right there . . . less than half a click away from that dome.”

  I nodded back, then suddenly got it. Karen lived over there too, along with their parents. And she’d run out of here about a half-hour ago due to some kind of fire on their property. Running right into the lion’s den.

  “I’ve got to get over there,” I said. “She may already be captured. Or worse.”

  “I’m coming with you,” Matt said.

  “Count me in, too,” Donny added.

  Together, we hurried toward the barn doors. “Keep on doing what you’re doing, Titus . . . we’ll be back soon,” I said.

  “And if you’re not? Titus replied.

  I stopped and looked around for Jhally and found him above the crowd. High up, he was standing on Shredder Three’s wing top, observing us from afar.

  “Jhally knows what to do. But I have every intention of making it back here before it’s our planned go time.” With that, I unlatched the front barn doors just wide enough for Matt, Donny, and me to slip through. Mort ran out before I slid the door closed. Pulling the keys from my pocket, we ran in the direction of my truck, which I’d parked closer to the house. Halfway there, I saw three sets of lights fast approaching down the long driveway.

  “Shit! Those are HovTs . . . we have marshals inbound!” Donny exclaimed.

  Immediately, the three of us slowed our pace to a walk. Glancing behind me, I knew it would be obvious to the inbound marshals that something big was going on inside the barn. Out front there had to be thirty parked cars, and that many vehicles again parked along the side yard. Many more cars were parked farther out in the pasture. A large gathering like this was just another thing frowned upon, punishable by the EMS.

  I smiled and waved toward the hovering, now descending, vehicles. “I take it you two are packing?”

  “Yup,” Donny said.

  “Uh, huh,” Matt said. “You?”

  “Mistmaker,” I said.

  The three HovTs landed on the drive, their gull-wing doors opening.

  “You do know we’re totally fucked, right?” Donny asked, smiling and waving too.

  “Let’s just see what they want. God, I can’t believe their timing. Just be ready. You see them make any attempt to call this in, if they pull their thumb pads, shoot them.”

  I heard a deep growl coming from Mort.

  chapter 27

  Every second I was kept waylaid here by these damn lizards was stealing time I needed to rush to Karen’s aid. Try to save her life. I couldn’t keep the dread, fear of what might be happening to her, from my mind.

  Silhouetted behind the three sets of bright headlights, I watched as four figures climbed out of each one of the HovTs. Terrific! We had twelve armed Gaps to deal with—making the odds of our surviving the next few minutes that much worse.

  Tense, and ready to make our move, Donny, Matt, and I stood shoulder to shoulder. We smiled, as if welcoming friends to a summer birthday party.

  “I can’t see a damn thing,” Donny whispered, squinting into the light.

  “We’re so screwed . . .” Matt said.

  Mort’s growls were louder now.

  Things only got worse when I caught the dark outline of a figure rising out of one of the HovTs to a height of eight feet. I knew only one Gap who would fit that description, since I was the one who shot a mistmaker energy bolt smack into his chin just days earlier.

  “Isn’t that your good buddy from the carnival tent?” Donny asked.

  Matt nervously laughed at that. “Payback’s a bitch, Brian . . . hope you have your affairs in order. Maybe a last will and testament.”

  Mort barked several times. I could feel him pressed up against my legs. He was trembling. I gave him a couple of pats to his flank.

  “Shut up, Donny, this isn’t funny,” I whispered back, inwardly acknowledging—in a pathetic kind of way—that it sort of was.

  Matt leaned in closer: “I think one of those guys is . . . a Human.”

  I nodded, already knowing exactly who he was. “Hey, you okay, Mike? They hurt you?”

  “Hey, Brian,” Mike replied, “. . . that you, Matt? Donny?”

  Matt said, “Yeah, man. Um . . . so what are you doing with these Gaps . . . I mean, with these marshals?”

  Mike Post, hacker extraordinaire, didn’t answer. At least, this sort of explained why I had not heard from him of late. My eyes leveled onto the tallest Gap in the group. Damn, the Gaps must possess even more amazing medical capabilities than I’d thought possible.

  Two dark figures shuffled forward. One seemed to be assisting the other—as if helping him to stand upright. When he spoke, I immediately recognized his voice.

  “Captain Polk . . . please excuse our uninvited intrusion here.”

  “Chancellor? That you, sir?” I asked, lifting up a palm to block out some of the glare from the blinding headlights.

  “In the flesh. Well, what’s left of me, anyway.” He looked back over his shoulder and said, “You can cut the lights . . . we’re among friends here.”

  It took a few moments to adjust to the sudden darkness as three sets of HovT headlights switched off, one after another. The only illumination now came from the barn’s outdoor lights in the distance. Still, there was more than enough light to see that Sleept Vogthner, the Gap’s chancellor of communications, was in pretty bad shape. A bandage encircled the top of his head. Much of the scaly skin on one side of his face was a bloody mess. One arm was in a sling. Judging by the way he was being propped up, supported, I surmised he’d either suffered from a broken leg, or a badly sprained one.

  “What happened to you? Were you in some kind of accident?” My eyes went to Mike Post, wondering if he, too, was involved somehow. Their joint appearance was becoming more and more confusing to me.

  “Slid down the side of a cliff earlier today . . . Listen to me carefully, Brian, we don’t have much time,” Vogthner said. “First of all, we are not here to arrest you, or to accost you in any way. We simply are here to help, if you’ll accept it.”

  “What?” Matt asked.

  “Help how, sir?” I asked. “Um, as you can see, we’re having a little barn party here. Probably should have cleared it with the EMS—”

  “Drop the dumb act, Brian,” Vogthner said, becoming more serious. “I’ve known about your Takeback group for months now. Our Quantum Manifo
ld System searches specifically for the kind of activities you and your friends exhibit. I know about the two marshals you killed, and I know about the five Shredders you have hidden in that barn of yours.”

  “Oh, shit,” Donny exclaimed under his breath.

  “I also know about your ill-conceived plan to invade the Solaris Habitat in your moon’s high orbit. Seriously? You were going to hold one million female Earupitans hostage?”

  Slowly I inched my right hand behind my back to where the mistmaker was tucked into my jeans.

  “Don’t be stupid,” Vogthner said. “If we wanted you dead, you’d already be lying on the ground in a broken heap.”

  Mike Post said, “Listen to him, Brian. I think we’re on the same side here. Hacking into the Prime Network, with Marshal Grip’s help . . . we uncovered a sub-level communications stream. One specifically used by the military’s upper echelon. We tapped into real time communiqués between a ground forces general and none other than his Eminence, Overlord Skith. But I didn’t know Chancellor Vogthner had eyes on my network activities.”

  “So you know what’s happening locally? The military ground forces that showed up this week?” I asked.

  “I already suspected something was brewing,” Vogthner said. “Suspected there had to be some kind of Phase II in the works . . . that humankind would always be in jeopardy. Sorry, but it was only a matter of time.”

  “And what, you were just going to let it happen?” Donny asked.

  Vogthner ignored the question. “Turns out, we, too, will soon be at the mercy of the military.”

  “We . . . who is we?” I asked.

  “All the EMS stations around the world: the marshals . . . and the chancellors, such as myself. Turns out, we’ve been ‘overly corrupted’ by our close contact with Humans. Mixed loyalties have blossomed. Which, in my case, may be true. Look, any of the Oversight and Enforcement Centers around the world, their Quantum Manifold Systems and their eight spinning Causal Intelligence Nodes, could have preemptively forecasted the kind of problems currently being exhibited. Overlord Skith, with even more powerful computing resources at his disposal, will have determined as much, too. He will not let anything get in the way of having a smooth transition in bringing a million awaiting females down to Earth. Any further need for a marshal’s service is gone. The need for a local chancellor of communications will be gone.”

  “Why do you need me . . . need us?” I asked. “There are plenty of EMS personnel around the world, many thousands of you, right? Start your own damn rebellion.”

  “I considered that,” Vogthner said. “But the military has taken control of all Prime Networks and sub-level township networks. They’ve been locked down. Sure, we may convince a few local centers to move against the military, but there’s simply no time to do that on any significant scale. No. Our only hope is banding together with you Humans. I fully understand any reluctance your species will have . . . trusting us. Hopefully, you’ll see we are in a similar predicament. Only by working together, can we all survive.”

  I nodded, considering all that he’d said. But something still didn’t make sense. “How’d you find out about the Shredders?”

  “From me,” came a deep gravely voice.

  I didn’t need to turn around to know it was none other than Jhally, now standing behind us.

  He moved past us, leaning on his crutch to hobble by, placing himself directly in front of Chancellor Vogthner. Neither spoke for close to a minute. Matt, Donny, and I exchanged perplexed glances.

  Then Vogthner raised his good arm higher and the two aliens embraced.

  “This shit show keeps getting crazier and crazier,” Donny whispered.

  Eventually, they stepped apart from one another. Deeply felt emotions were evident on both their faces.

  “So, I take it you two know each other?” I needlessly asked.

  “We are brothers,” Jhally said. “Do you not see the similarities in our Mannarian features?”

  “Um, sure, I do,” Donny said. “Now that you bring it up.”

  Matt and I both scowled at Donny, shutting him up.

  Jhally said, “I have been using a telephone at the abandoned Anderson’s home to speak with Vogthner most every night.” Jhally tore his gaze away from his brother and looked directly at me. “It would not have been safe to let you know you always had a friend in high places, Brian. I apologize for the dishonesty.”

  “So what now?” I asked. “There are between three and four hundred Humans back there in the barn behind us, preparing to make an attack on the Gaps. You’re not going to be welcomed with open arms in there.”

  “More likely drawn and quartered,” Matt said.

  “And yet, we must try,” the chancellor said. “Perhaps with your help . . . your introduction—”

  “Maybe later. Right now, someone I truly care about is in trouble. There’s a dome of sorts . . . a place where they will be holding prisoners.”

  “We know all about that place,” Mike said. “It’s crawling with soldiers. You’ll be shot on sight getting anywhere near there.”

  “Not to mention, you have a certain raid upon a Solaris Habitat to head up,” the chancellor added.

  “I thought you weren’t a big fan of that idea,” I said.

  “I’m not. But honestly, it’s the only plan that could even remotely work if our intention is to make a difference worldwide.”

  “Lend me one of your HovT vehicles, Chancellor. Give us an hour to bring back my other pilot, then we’ll do this thing together,” I said.

  Jhally said, “I shall attempt to convince the Humans inside the barn to accept my brother’s help. It may be . . . difficult.”

  “Yeah, good luck with that,” Donny said.

  “One more thing,” the chancellor added, “you will take Dalm Mor Stroph with you. He is brave and an unparalleled fighter.”

  “Um, not so sure that’s a good idea.”

  “Please,” Vogthner said.

  I leaned closer to the chancellor, and asked, “Does he remember . . . exactly what happened to him . . . in that carnival tent?”

  chapter 28

  It was determined that Stroph, the Earupitan giant, should drive us since neither Donny, Matt, nor I had ever driven one of their HovT crafts before. I occupied the passenger seat, next to Stroph, while Matt and Donny sat in the back. Leery of the alien’s ability to drive due to his all too recent head injury, I watched him carefully in my peripheral vision as he navigated between double stands of large oaks, flanking both sides of my driveway.

  “You need not concern yourself, Human, with my piloting abilities. I have adequately recovered from my recent injuries,” Stroph said.

  Before I could answer, his massive, clawed right hand shot out sideways, and tightly wrapped around my throat. My airway cut-off, I couldn’t so much as squeal. Using both hands, I desperately tried to free myself from his iron grip but was having zero success. Both Donny and Matt yelled at the giant to let me go. Donny, his Glock pistol pressed hard into the giant’s temple, shouted, “Let him go, asshole, or I swear to God, I’ll end you right here and now!”

  My legs kicked and flailed about—the mistmaker pistol wedged into my jeans, came loose and fell to the floor. As I began to experience narrowing, tunnel-like, vision from the lack of oxygen to my brain, I still could see Stroph, casually sitting beside me, his left hand on the controls. He looked relaxed, a creepy satisfied smile on his oversized green face.

  “Don’t shoot him, Donny!” Matt yelled behind me. “We’re too fucking high above the ground now . . . you’d kill us all!”

  At this point, I had no more fight left me. I weakly pawed at Stroph’s strangling hand, but my useless arms felt like heavy lead weights. As they dropped to my side, I was resigned to the fact I was dying. I thought about Mort, back at the barn. How long would my loyal dog wait
for me to come home? Then I thought of Karen—was she still alive? I could barely hear Donny and Matt’s yelling now, my auditory receptors fast shutting down. Blind, deaf, and soon dead.

  I suddenly felt a release from the giant’s clawed hand around my throat. I gasped and gagged, struggling to fill my burning lungs with air. My airway still felt constricted—swollen from the alien monster’s impossibly tight grip. But I slowly managed to take in several full breaths of air even though I was hacking like a five-pack-a-day chain smoker. In reverse order, my senses began to return, first back was hearing, then seeing. Slumped down in my seat, staring out through tear-streaming eyes, I found Stroph still at the controls. Thanks to Donny, his face was a mess. Several deep red gashes highlighted his right cheek. His long snout of a nose was bleeding profusely and his creepy Gap smile was gone.

  My words croaked out, “So I take it . . . your memory . . . returned?”

  Stroph, shooting an unfriendly glance in my direction, nodded once.

  “So are we good now, or do I need to teach you another lesson?” I asked, attempting to smile.

  Again, after another quick glance toward me, he offered a single nod back. “We are good.”

 

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