The Hidden Ship

by Mark Wayne McGinnis

  “What am I looking at?” Karen asked. I felt her bare shoulder pressing against me. Giving me a bemused smile and a quick sideways glance, she let me know the sudden contact was not accidental.

  I asked, “Is this the view from the robot? Are we seeing what it is seeing in real time?” The view was motionless and somewhat tilted, catching the partial aft end of one of the newly landed Crusher craft. The neighboring hillside, a crop of tall pines, showed in the background.

  “I’m confused. That robot doesn’t have a head . . . certainly no eyes,” Karen said.

  “Later, you’re going to realize how stupid that statement really was, Karen,” Mike said. “Needless to say, robots don’t actually need heads or eyes . . . this is the bot’s front-facing camera feed we’re now looking at.”

  Karen laughed, “Oh, yeah. Guess that was sort of stupid of me.”

  “So the robot is inactive right now. You’ve only activated its camera,” I said. “To get it moving, how does that work?”

  Suddenly, a virtual joy-stick, along with a series of selector buttons, appeared within the HUD. Stroph, a vertical crease forming between his eyes, grunted his approval.

  “These are the bot’s manipulation controls,” Mike explained. “We can make it walk, or pick things up. Shit, we can make it do cartwheels, I suspect, if we wanted to.”

  Jhally said, “Perhaps it would be best to have the robot fully destroy the dome. Fucking tear it apart, once and for all. Kill as many ground troops as possible before the robot is destroyed by attacking Shredders.”

  There seemed to be unanimous agreement about that all around. But then I thought of something else. “Mike, can you show us the feed from the backside of that robot?”

  “Hold on . . .”

  The visual perspective changed. We now had a much better view of the compound. Ten new Shredders were parked off in the distance, lined up in two perfectly straight rows of five. Beyond them were three Mini Crushers landing craft. Armed ground forces could be seen hurrying down each respective ramp.

  “Six hundred new Gap soldiers, plus those being released from the pens. That’s an army!” Mike exclaimed. “An army that needs to be dealt with immediately, before they head out to capture more locals.”

  He was right, of course, though my eyes kept returning to the ten pristine-looking Shredders—lined up like toys on some child’s shelf.

  “Look . . . there’s already a crew working on dome repairs,” Karen said pointing

  “So, what’s it going to be? Shall I unleash the Kraken?” Mike asked, in an announcer’s deep growly voice.

  Everyone looked to me for an answer. Again, my eyes flashed to the parked Shredders. “Not quite yet,” I said.

  “Come on, Brian! It’s now or never,” Karen said.

  “Our plan is to do what?” I asked. “Fly our five Shredders to Cuba. Somehow defeat twenty defending Shredders, plus untold ground forces . . . all to get to Overlord Skith’s, um—”

  “Maiden Sow,” Mike said.

  “Maiden Sow . . .” I repeated. “She’ll be our best leverage dealing with the overlord, who’ll help get us access onto the Habitat.”

  “Yeah, we already know all that,” Karen said, sounding a little too snarky for my taste. “Brian, the odds are shit that we’ll be successful. We’ll probably all die. But what choice do we have?”

  I had no answer for her. “Jhally . . . the marshals over there,” I gestured toward the barn’s bustling interior, “do you think any of them can pilot a Shredder?”

  Jhally shifted his gaze and tilted his large head. All the tall, green-faced aliens wearing red, green, and blue cowboy shirts, were easily notable among the inhabitants. He said, “I think there are at least ten marshals here who previously were in the military and completed flight training. That is . . . prior to them being enlisted into the EMS.”

  “Wait! So what are you thinking?” Karen asked me.

  I pointed back to the HUD feed of the compound. “I’m thinking I want those ten new Shredders. I want to increase our odds of succeeding when we make our little visit to Cuba.”

  —————

  It took the rest of the afternoon, and a good part of the evening to work through a viable plan—one that would involve just about everyone present within my oversized barn. More sketched diagrams were drawn into the dirt floor. What we finally arrived at entailed a combined aerial and ground assault on the alien compound. By no means did any of us hold false hopes that this would be a slam-dunk. Beyond all doubt, we were about to attempt something more than a little crazy; something having ridiculously low odds of success. But at least it was something. An attempt. A courageous means for mere Humans, like us, to regain some of what we’d lost over the last two years—our feelings of self-worth.

  According to Jhally, and several of our marshals who’d previously served within the Earupitan military, it wouldn’t be likely any of the Gap ground forces would be doing much today. Instead, they would start deploying their ground forces, stationed within open-air troop movers, no earlier than first light.

  Our attack plan was actually fairly simple. It had only four primary elements to it: one, create a substantial distraction; two, set down our stolen XL5 and deploy our troops; three, order all ground forces to converge on the compound, attacking it from all sides at once; and four, initiate our Shredder aerial attack.

  Our five Shredders would be manned by pilots Karen, Yeager, Wright, and me, as well as by one of the other marshals, who supposedly had top-notch piloting experience. Jhally would be piloting our XL5, and Mike Post—controlling the giant robot—would join him there in the control center.

  Both Matt and Donny, who shared the most ground assault military experience, would be leading our ragtag army, such as it was, into battle. Donny, currently, was in the process of dividing everyone into smaller squads. Matt was in charge of issuing out our limited supply of energy weapons. Stroph had come up with a few more guns by searching the Crusher, but we were still coming up way short.

  I watched as Matt and Donny approached me, both wearing stern expressions. Donny said, “Brian, we only have enough weapons for about half our people. Marshals have their mistmakers, and we have a few dozen plasma rifles . . . but it’s not nearly enough to go around.”

  I nodded.

  “We know you have . . . um, a few guns lying about here. Even a few more could make a difference. It’ll go for a good cause,” Donny added.

  Neither Matt nor Donny were ever invited down into my hidden vault. It wasn’t that I didn’t trust them—I did, with my life—just that the vault was something akin to a sanctuary for me, my own special hideaway. I simply never shared its whereabouts with anyone. But today, that was all about to change.

  “Come with me, fellas,” I said.

  The three of us were about to exit the barn when Karen called out, “Hey, where are you going?”

  “Come on . . . you may as well see this, too,” I said.

  We hurried over to the main house. I led them into the front vestibule and down a side hallway. We passed by a formal sitting room and then my office. I held up at the library’s double, ten-foot high, entrance doors. “What you are about to see is not to be spoken of . . . to anyone.”

  “Yeah, yeah, top secret . . . got it,” Karen said, rolling her pretty eyes.

  “I mean it!” I exclaimed.

  Donny, Matt, and Karen nodded back impatiently. I opened the doors and we entered the library. Dark mahogany shelves, holding thousands upon thousands of hardback books, lined the walls. Ladders moving on track-rails were positioned so shelves fifteen feet high could be easily accessed. Red leather armchairs were placed before a floor-to-ceiling window. A long matching sofa occupied an inset cubbyhole along one wall. The main attraction in the room was a massive stone fireplace, with a huge fire pit nearly tall enough for a full-sized man to stand er
ect in. All in all, this was a millionaire’s library—one no Hollywood movie set could depict any better.

  “The Polk family fortune in all its glory,” Matt said.

  “Yeah, well . . . a lot of good it does me now,” I said back.

  “So . . . why are we here?” Donny asked, glancing about. He looked uncomfortable being in the room’s dramatic setting. “You going to read us a story?”

  Karen let out a long breath. In the process of sitting down on the sofa, I said, “Don’t sit there,” and gestured for her to move aside. I smiled and waggled my eyebrows up and down at the three of them.

  “This is stupid,” Karen said. “We still have more important things to do.”

  Reaching around her, I took hold of a mounted brass lantern and tilted it upward and away from the wall. There was a definitive click. Suddenly the sofa dropped into a hidden compartment within the floor, and the inset wall slid sideways, disappearing behind bookshelves.

  Matt took a tentative step into the empty dark recess and looked down. “I see a staircase.”

  I reached inside and flipped on a light switch. At the bottom of the descending stairway, some twenty-five feet below us, the now-illuminated three thousand square foot vault was visible for all to see. Hundreds of Army green crates were down there. Some had their tops off, their contents revealed. Colt 9mm SMG assault weapons were in one, Ruger MP-9’s in another, and M203F Grenade Launchers in yet another. Matt leaned over the banister, eyeing an open box of handguns lying at the bottom of the stairs. Whistling, he asked, “Are those Magnum semi-automatic ANT AutoMag IIIs?”

  “Uh huh, the very same,” I said. “Fires off magnum-caliber rounds from a semi-automatic pistol. Kicks like a mule, but the stopping power . . . well . . . let’s just say it’s a bring me to Jesus moment.”

  Donny said, “Bro, you’ve been holding out on us.”

  “Nah . . . just waiting for the right rainy day when we’d need it all,” I said.

  —————

  It was late, coming up on 0400 hours. Multiple crates had steadily been transported up the stairs by Donny, Matt, Karen, and me from my hidden vault, then hauled outside to the barn. Presently, most everyone was dog-tired, either resting within the XL5 hold, or wherever some free space was found to lie down in within the vessel’s upper decks. A small team—both Humans and Gap marshals—had worked well together within the large Crusher’s galley, cranking out replicator meals. Others volunteered to distribute the still-warm rations to anyone wanting one.

  The barn was nearly empty now. Karen and I sat together, eating in silence on Jhally’s old cot. I had no idea what I was eating—I thought it prudent not to ask. It tasted okay, sufficient sustenance for what was to come.

  “It’s time,” Karen said. I nodded yes. Neither of us needed to say that these past few minutes together more than likely would be our last. That whatever chemistry linked us probably would never go further. She let me pull her close so I could kiss her lips.

  When we separated, I said, “When this is over . . . I think you and Gwen should move in here with me, together.”

  “Oh, you do, huh?” she said looking surprised perhaps hearing such wistful thinking coming from me.

  “I don’t know.”

  She didn’t look all that excited about the idea. Well, I had to ask.

  “I’d have to speak to Gwen about it. She’d really like that library of yours. And the open spaces . . . the horses . . . and this is way too big a house for just one person . . . I suppose.”

  Afraid to jinx anything, I stayed quiet.

  “I miss her so much. She’s pretty much all I ever think about. I was tempted to leave, you know. Hop in one of those HovTs and just go . . . go be with my little girl. Hide out in Utah with her and my parents.”

  “You could have gone, too. No one would have blamed you. I know I wouldn’t have,” I told her.

  She shook her head. “I’d never be able to look at myself in the mirror. Or into my little girl’s eyes without blaming myself. No, win or lose, but probably lose, I’m with you all the way, Brian. I’ll think about your offer . . . give me some time.”

  A few moments passed before she spoke again: “Just promise me, if I die today you’ll keep an eye on Matt. He playacts being tough, but he’s not like you, or like Donny. More sensitive, he never fully recovered from his injuries.”

  I nodded. “I promise.”

  “And maybe you can check in on Gwen, and my parents?”

  “Of course.”

  “Good, I feel better. And I’ll make sure Patty and Lucy are watched over . . . if you . . .”

  “Thank you,” I cut in, “But don’t forget about Mort, and the chickens. And of course the fox.”

  “Oh no, that nasty animal bit me . . . twice! She’s on her own.”

  We kissed again and stood up. “It’s GO time.”

  chapter 40

  All five Shredder Zion-9 argon boost drives were revving up to flight speed, right outside the barn. Sitting behind me now in one of the Shredders was an Earupitan marshal named Pierce. He supposedly had good piloting training in the past, though perhaps it would be more accurate to say he’d had adequate piloting experience. The other four Shredders were manned with both a pilot and a co-pilot, too. Ten minutes earlier, our XL5 Crusher landing craft disembarked from the farm, its hold packed full of ragtag army assault troops—humans and Earupitan marshals alike.

  My attention was centered on my HUD, where I could track the various components of the forthcoming attack. Presently, the other four Shredders holding individual two-man teams were rushing down the runway, heading off into the darkness. I could hear Donny and Matt’s voices as they barked-out orders.

  Jhally and Mike Post, and less-than-accommodating General Chiv, were seated within the XL5’s control center. I heard Mike’s voice say, “Polybius, we’re on site and I’m about to get things moving. You should now have access to the robot’s visuals. You can bring up manual control for it on your own HUD.”

  “Copy that,” I said. I tapped at a combination of virtual buttons and the joystick, with its corresponding surrounding controls, flashed onto my display. “Got it,” I said.

  “You want to do the honors? Play Geppetto to our mechanical Pinocchio?”

  “Yeah, sure, let me give it a try. You’re there to back me up if I screw things up, right?”

  Two new wide-angle video feeds popped onto my HUD. One hundred eighty degree views on my joystick—one showed the robot’s forward perspective, the other a backward perspective. “Pretty dark, Mike . . . is there some way we can lighten things up a little . . . change the light settings?”

  “Hold on . . .”

  A moment later, both feeds visually improved, the compound’s details coming alive.

  “Had to initialize an auto-exposer setting,” Mike said.

  I reached for the virtual joystick and was surprised to experience tactile feelings in my fingers. “Here goes nothing,” I said, pressing the Enable button for controlling the robot. Immediately, the forward video feed went from one slightly off-kilter to one perfectly horizontal. I watched as the robots two mechanical arms rose up, and three finger-like digits, on both mechanical hands, flexed. Right then, a third video feed popped onto my HUD. A new perspective from some distance away, probably from a camera situated atop one of the Mini Crusher landers. It offered the missing visual component—the robot’s present location, relative to everything around it. “Thanks, Mike, that helps.”

  I pushed the virtual joystick forward and watched the forty-foot-tall robotic machine trudge forward. Next, I spun the robot both left and right, then raised its robotic leg up high, before stomping its metal foot down hard onto the ground. Not too much different, I thought, from a number of console games I’d played as a kid. Getting a better feel for things, I figured it was time to get busy, cause some
real mayhem. I moved the robot in the direction of the atomizer dome. A series of tall lights had recently been erected to help out with repairs being made upon the top portion of the dome. Unfortunately, the dome seemed to have weathered my earlier attempt to destroy it far better than I expected.

  Audio sounds from the compound were now streaming into my ear puck. Rudely awakened, Earupitan soldiers were pouring out of the three Mini Crusher ships. It was plainly evident to me that no one knew what was going on—how their assembly robot had somehow acquired a mind of its own. I had to smile; they were like ants escaping from a disturbed ant hill. Scores of Gap soldiers were running round and round in a frenzy of sorts.

  I pushed the joystick all the way forward, forcing the robot to run. As it got closer to the dome, I used the leap button, something Mike had showed me how to use earlier. The robot landed hard into the side of the dome, causing the dome to partially fold into itself. Damaged, but in no way destroyed. Off balance, the robot toppled off the dome’s wall, landing awkwardly on its rear end. Not sure how to get the robot back up and onto its feet, I signaled Mike. “Mike . . . can you take over control of the robot for me? Get that dome destroyed? Then get to work destroying the enemies’ three little Crushers!”

  “Gladly,” he said.

  Hundreds of Gap soldiers, standing around within the compound, gawked at the seemingly out-of-control robot.

  I said, “Noble . . . Crazy Horse . . .” Using Matt’s and Donny’s pseudonyms, “You can commence your attack whenever you’re ready.”

  No one raised a hand. I looked out upon growing expressions of apprehension. Glancing over my shoulder toward the workshop area, I twirled a finger high in the air above my head.

  “Copy that, Polybius. We’re almost in position. Give us two minutes,” Donny said.

  “Okay,” I said, “we’re getting airborne now. Be there in just a few. Oh, and guys . . .”

  “Back at you,” Donny said, not letting me finish my sentence.

  Karen, piloting Shredder Three, was closest to mine—Shredder Five. In unison, we rose higher and higher above the Polk property.