The Hidden Ship

by Mark Wayne McGinnis

  Startled by the sudden movement behind him, he saw the forty-foot-tall assembly bot come alive. Letting out a relieved breath, he nodded to his sergeant, who was inputting control commands into his ear puck’s HUD. “Good job, now put it to work!”

  The big, headless robot moved directly into the path of the M1 Abrams tank. The tank’s main gun began to rise—the torso of the bot coming into firing range. Lifting up one of its colossal feet, like someone preparing to step on a bug, the bot stomped down with all of its considerable weight, right on top of the tank—bending the main gun up skyward and crushing the turret like an empty soda can.

  chapter 31

  Five minutes earlier . . .

  The four of us—Donny, Matt, Stroph, and me—spread out, finding cover amongst the surrounding trees or behind several of the larger boulders. Firing into the melee of Gap ground troops, we caught the garrison off-guard—immediately causing confusion and mayhem within their ranks. Was it enough to halt further progressions of the dome exterminations? I could only hope. I’d lost track of Karen’s position within the hordes of captive Humans, forcibly being ushered closer and closer to the dome’s entrance. Had she already been forced inside? Our diversionary tactics had not made much of an impact so far. I was tempted to charge forward, gun blazing—attempt some kind of rescue. But too many Gap sentries were on duty. A suicidal outcome would do nothing to help Karen, if she was still alive.

  Unfortunately, I kept missing my intended targets. The energy rifle was so lightweight—had so little recoil—I was having trouble mastering effective marksmanship. Stroph, some twenty yards off to my left, was having far better results, having already killed no fewer than ten Gaps. Any doubts I had regarding his residual loyalties to his fellow Earupitans, were now dismissed.

  He glanced my way, sheer annoyance on his face. “Pull the stock firmly into your shoulder, Human . . . aim high.”

  I did as suggested. Unsurprisingly, I had far better results—killing my first Gap soldier. But there were hundreds of them about, and our initial surprise confrontation would not be effective for long. Damn it, Titus, you need to get your ass over here soon!

  As if on cue, the M1 tank broke out through the trees on the opposite side of the compound. With no hesitation, it ran over a tightly clustered group of Gap soldiers. Soldiers who didn’t move quickly enough to avoid being trapped under the big, churning tank treads. Resulting screams of agony were obscured by the sound of the tank’s fully engaged fifty-caliber machine gun. As dark out as it was, I still was able to see Titus, partially visible, seated within the tank’s turret. He wore a broad, toothy grin as scores of lizard combatants were literally shredded into pieces right where they stood. Payback’s a bitch.

  My heart sank as I watched a flying-disk troop carrier suddenly drop down from above, then land. “Seriously? More of them!” I yelled out in frustration, before realizing they had Human faces, not lizardy ones. Over a hundred armed men and women. Among them were Randy and his mother, and others, who also had recently assembled back within my barn. Standing a foot taller than the rest was Sleept Vogthner. How that troop transport had been commandeered, I had no idea. In any case, they were a very welcome sight indeed.

  The M1 tank circled first one way, then another, tearing up the terrain while Titus’s trigger finger continued to spread mayhem. All in all, we clearly were making a difference. I even dared to hope we just might succeed. But my eyes kept flashing over to the dome, at the captives being propelled forward.

  A seemingly inanimate object suddenly sprang to life. It was an immense headless robot. Forty to fifty feet tall, the bipedal mechanical albatross strode forward, massive hydraulic pistons powering each of its four limbs. It moved with a kind of animus force that was both impressive and unnerving at the same time. The ground shook under its deliberate forward strides. Gunfire quelled, as warring Humans and alien lizards refocused their attention toward an apparent robot versus tank confrontation. I, too, was held spellbound by the ultimate face-off between the two deadly machines. Titus was yelling commands to his crew, his smile long gone. The tank’s big gun began angling upward. The long cannon could shoot 120mm ammunition; capable of making a direct hit at a range of 2,500 meters. This headless robot was about to experience a whole lot of hurt. But the robot didn’t just idly stand there, waiting to be annihilated. Instead, lifting one of its huge leg appendages high, it drove its heavy foot down hard on top of Titus’s head—crushing the man, the turret, and disabling the tank.

  As a result, a momentary stillness prevailed. Then gunfire resumed, from both sides. I began firing, trying hard not to think about Titus, and the others now lying dead within the ruined tank. Some Human combatants had taken cover, while others—ridiculously standing out in the open—were easy targets. Clearly, they were untrained, unprepared. One by one my compatriots fell. I continued to send plasma bolts into the alien forces, even though my weapon was becoming so hot I could barely hold onto the thing. It crossed my mind that it might actually explode in my hands.

  I noticed that the chancellor, his head still wrapped in a bloodied bandage, seemed to have a single preoccupation—a lone Gap officer, trying to escape, was running, tripping, attempting to flee—to find anywhere to hide.

  The ground began to vibrate again as a familiar, dreaded, humming sound filled the air. Then the dome brightened for an extended brief few moments. Afterwards, I could smell the ozone. How many more Humans had just lost their lives? I’m so sorry, Karen . . .

  Disheartened, I fought on and fired my plasma weapon until it finally seized up, a steady stream of hot steam spewing outward from the barrel. Only a few of us appeared to be alive at this point. I wondered how Donny and Matt were faring? Had Titus’s fate befallen them, too? Would I be next . . . probably soon?

  I ducked low as incoming plasma fire came in from my right. The alien garrison had outflanked us. Of course they had—and there were so many of them.

  Again, the ground began to vibrate and a loud humming filled the air. Fuck—again from the dome? No, it wasn’t the dome this time. In the early dawn light, I caught sight of a newly arriving sleek vessel. Two additional crafts were slowly circling higher in the sky—like birds of prey—waiting for the opportunity to pounce. By now, I was quite familiar with the craft’s unique visual contours. The first to arrive Shredder was moving fast, on a straight vector—lightning fast. It abruptly banked left, then descended a thousand feet. Firing, bright flashing bolts of plasma shot from its wing-mounted guns.

  Pandemonium erupted all around. Humans and Earupitans alike ran and dove for cover.

  When I realized those of us here on the ground were not the primary target of their attack—that the targets were the four landing crafts—I knew just who was up there in the cockpit—Jhally.

  chapter 32

  Six Gap soldiers made a mad rush toward my hiding place behind the boulder. A series of plasma bolts exploded near me, sending chunks of rock so close that shrapnel-like shards shredded my shirt and inflicted tiny cuts along my back and left side. Ignoring the pain, I discarded the useless rifle and pulled out my mistmaker. I attempted to return the Gap’s rapid fire, but had to keep ducking down behind the boulder for cover. They continued running toward me, while firing back with surprising accuracy, especially since they were moving fast. I knew within seconds I would be overrun. One Human, unfamiliar with his weapon, versus six aliens wielding far more powerful energy weapons had no chance. This had to be it. Had to be the end. Well, I wasn’t about to just hide, cowering behind the boulder. Inhaling a deep breath, I prepared myself for a last stand, one out in the open. I leapt out from my position behind the rock.

  But I didn’t get very far. Something grabbed me by the nape of my neck, pulled me back behind the rock. I knew it was Stroph.

  “You are brave, Human, but annoyingly stupid.” Still holding onto an operational energy rifle, Stroph wasted no time using it,
firing quick shots around the big rock. I moved toward the boulder’s other side and, hunching low to the ground, returned fire with my mistmaker. Three Gaps fell down, while the other three continued to advance. I noticed Stroph’s aim seemed nearly as bad as my own. Taking a quick glance behind me at the giant Earupitan, I realized his face was a bloody mess. Apparently, he, too, had suffered rock shrapnel hits—maybe into his eyes? By the time I refocused my attention, back on the incoming assault, one of the Gap soldiers was almost upon me. I ducked down, missed being hammered by the butt of his rifle by mere fractions of an inch. Lying prone on the ground, I rolled hard left—careening my body into his legs. The alien toppled over, landing right on top of me. We both scrambled to get our weapons into firing positions. In this one instance, holding a pistol in my hand, versus gripping a far longer rifle, ended up being an advantage. I snatched a hold of the rifle’s muzzle with my left hand, forcing and angling it away from my face, while shoving my mistmaker pistol hard into the Gap’s abdomen. I pulled the trigger five times before he finally slumped over, his dead weight falling on top of me.

  Extricating myself from beneath the dead soldier’s body, I witnessed a vicious fight ensuing several feet away. In hand-to-hand combat, Stroph was fighting the other two soldiers. All three had dropped their weapons—either accidentally, or on purpose. One thing was for sure—I didn’t want to get in the middle of that battle. Stroph, taking heavy blows to his head and body, mostly missed out with his own clench-fisted strikes. So much blood was flowing down the top of his head he couldn’t see. Suddenly, the glint of a knife appeared in one of the soldier’s hands.

  “Gap on your right . . . knife!” I yelled.

  Stroph blocked the incoming strike enough to divert what undoubtedly would have been a lethal stab to his neck. His arm suffered the damage instead. Blood sprayed into the air. The other soldier seized this opportunity to retrieve his long rifle from the ground. Bringing its muzzle around, he was all set to fire, but before he could I shot him in the face.

  Stroph, still infuriated, grabbed a hold of his opponent’s wrist. Then the giant clasped his free hand around the other one’s wrist and, without missing a beat, swung the dazed Gap soldier around—almost three hundred-and-sixty degrees—until his body struck the boulder. Like a bug hitting a windshield at sixty miles an hour. The Gap, dazed, probably had mere seconds to live, but Stroph wasn’t done with him yet. Using his oversized boot to press the opponent’s limp body further into the ground, he wrenched the soldier’s arm up and away. I heard the sounds of bones snapping, of flesh ripping, as the arm was torn cleanly from the shoulder. Using the dismembered appendage as a club, Stroph proceeded to beat the Gap over and over again—even long after the battered, one-armed, soldier clearly lay dead—thump, thump, thump—the wet clubbing sounds continued.

  Plasma strikes streaked overhead, the dome now taking direct hits. Jhally’s relentless aerial attacks had somehow managed to bring the Gap ground forces to their knees. As the Shredder banked—first this way, then that—it avoided counter strikes from a lone lander craft, the only one of four still operational. Higher overhead, our other two Shredder craft were circling. The Human pilots, aliases Wright and Yeager, obviously weren’t comfortable yet calling up their onboard weaponry systems.

  I watched, stunned, as the remaining Gap forces, perhaps seventy-five or so, raised their hands high up above their heads—emerging from where, moments before, they’d taken cover. Just as many sentries standing by the dome were now doing the same. Raising their arms while moving toward the center of the compound. Chancellor Sleept Vogthner, standing within a cluster of armed Humans, was holding one Gap officer prisoner.

  Behind me and off to my left, I saw Matt and Donny walking down the hillside slope toward me. I was relieved, seeing both good friends still alive.

  But the toll extracted from the fierce battle was staggering. So many dead lay before us—both Gaps and Humans had lost hundreds. It was difficult to fully comprehend the carnage.

  Over near the dome, tightly grouped together Human captives stood quietly—their electrified pens still energized. They stared about them transfixed, although slow realization was settling in for all of us that a favorable outcome, considered incomprehensible and impossible just hours earlier, had actually taken place; Human resistance forces had not only fought bravely here, but had won the day.

  I yelled over my shoulder to Donny and Matt, “The dome . . .”

  By the time I reached the towering structure, I could hear the three Shredders setting down—their landing thrusters fully engaged. A cluster of Gap sentries, their arms now raised, eyed my rapid approach. “You, there,” I ordered, “get those electric pens turned off. Do it, now!”

  A puzzled sentry looked over at me, then toward his nearby cohorts. Clearly, the Gaps military forces did not possess the same educational level linguistically as EMS personnel. Then, Stroph appeared at my side. I was taken aback seeing the dead soldier’s arm still gripped in one of his claws. He spoke in Earupitan—angry commands that had the sentries nodding their heads in unison, looking eager to please. They quickly dispersed over to the holding pens, where, one by one, the various energy fields were shut off. A wave of Human voices full of both relief and joyful gratitude filled the air. We watched as they embraced one another. Some wept, others gazed up to heaven offering a silent prayer. Matt, Donny, and I moved through the crowd, thankful hands reached out to touch us as we passed. But we were looking for someone specific. Within minutes, it was evident Karen was not among those still living. She was nowhere to be seen.

  Matt, moisture filling his eyes, gestured toward the entrance into the dome. “We should check inside.”

  “Yeah . . . okay.” I headed toward the dark, looming archway. Inside was the death chamber. I knew there couldn’t possibly be any survivors, so entering would be a futile act. One of the sentries ran forward. Now a helpful compatriot, he used one of his long clawed fingers to tap at an access panel I didn’t know was there. Immediately, humans—ecstatic at being freed—began to pour forth from the dome’s dark interior. Apparently, an energy field had kept everyone enclosed. Like salmon swimming upstream, we fought through the crowd toward the entrance.

  I heard Matt yelling her name, “Karen? Karen?”

  Then Donny and I did the same. “Karen! Karen! Karen!”

  The outflow of released prisoners was soon reduced to a trickle. Still, there was no sign of her. Entering into the dome’s dark gloomy atmosphere, my eyes took several moments to adjust. The dome’s curved inner walls were nearly black, making it almost impossible to distinguish anything. The air was permeated with the strong odor of ozone. I scanned the cavernous space, searching for any sign of movement.

  “It’s just like you . . . wait till the last frigging minute to make your rescue.” And there she was. I watched as Karen emerged from the dim darkness helping an elderly man, his arm was draped over her shoulder. He barely seemed able to walk. Even with her face streaked with soot, to me, she looked like an angel. I’d never been happier to see someone in my life. We ran to help her. Donny took her place, assisting the old man. I threw my arms around her and pulled her into a tight embrace. Kissing her face, I found her lips, tasted the saltiness of tears. Matt pulled her away from me and hugged her tightly.

  Once he released her she grabbed a hold of both our arms. “Get me the fuck out of here!” she exclaimed.

  chapter 33

  I left Donny and Matt to organize the surviving Takebacks, and then find other Humans willing to help deal with the dead. Before very long, this place was going to become a stinking, fly-infested open gravesite. For now, I chose to have the bodies, both Human and Gap, moved to within the cooler confines of the atomizer dome. As Matt was heading away, I said, “Oh, and one more thing: collect all the ear pucks from the dead, plus all their weapons. I want us to have tight control on everything.”

  Karen and I appro
ached Sleept Vogthner, who appeared to have taken charge, barking off orders to his subordinates. Eyeing our approach, he offered up a smile. Gap smiles always looked somewhat creepy to me.

  “A remarkable day,’ he said. “A day that will be remembered in history books—Earth’s fight for independence has commenced!”

  “You foolish traitor . . . you have done nothing but ensure your own excruciating death,” a bound-up prisoner said.

  I appraised the Gap military officer. On his knees, his hands were secured behind his back. One scaly green cheek was bloodied, as well as his lower lip. His snug uniform was torn, one of his shoulder epaulets missing. He sneered at me.

  Vogthner said, “Let me introduce you to General Gauz Za Chiv. He and I recently spent some time together, but his attempt to kill me was unsuccessful. Prior to his failed attempt, I learned he was entrusted with supervising what was referred to as a test program for Phase II of the original Earupitan invasion plan—”

  “Yeah . . . we already know all about that,” I said, glancing around at the mayhem surrounding us. “Phase II . . . the eradication of all Human life.” I glowered down at Chiv. “So I guess your trial tests here in Castle Rock haven’t quite gone as you planned, eh?”

  “You must be the one called Polk,” Chiv said. “The instigator of this . . . this fiasco. Your demise will be that much more gratifying. A public example will be made of your execution. Perhaps his Eminence will see fit to have you skinned alive . . . we’ll make it a public spectacle. You do have a town square, do you not? But then again . . . surrender to me now, and I may see fit to recommend a fast and painless death for you instead.”