Parker's Folly

by Doug L. Hoffman

  “I'm afraid they are all rigged to the same detonator frequency. If you tried to set one off the rest would go as well. Even if they were not linked, the blast would probably set the others off, if it didn't kill you outright.” Then, hating herself as she said it, “Susan, we can't get you out of there.”

  Lt. Bear's Party, Between Hedgerows

  “Follow Me,” Bear shouted, heading back toward the hedgerow they had launched their initial attack from. “We are going back to the ship on as straight a path as we can.” Following Bear, JT was running with the egg tucked in the crook of his left arm like an NFL running back following a blocker. He had been about to suggest bounding overwatch, but follow the bear worked too. “Come on, Marines! Follow the four legged bullet sponge,” he yelled.

  The rest of the squad needed no more encouragement, they fell in behind the bounding Bear. As they neared the hedge row, one of the large haystacks split open and a large creature of a type they had not seen emerged. Larger than Bear, the thing had a flattened metal lozenge for a main body and six legs. Unlike the spiders, who's legs were attached to the top of their spherical bodies, this critter's legs sprouted from its smooth metallic sides. Also unlike the spiders, the legs basically consisted of two pieces: a thick pipe-like portion that angled up and out from the main body and then a flattened, curving lower portion that connected to the pipe at the top and arced to a point at the ground.

  The creature clumsily moved forward, its own legs interfering with each other—clearly it would move more effectively scuttling sideways like a crab. In fact, the overall effect was very crablike, including the two protruding stalks on the front of the thing's body that ended in what could be eyes. The whole crab motif was broken, however, when its underside opened and a very large plasma cannon oozed out.

  “Crap!” Bear barked, slowing his forward travel by sitting down. Bear's armored ass threw sparks along the deck as he reached for his grenade launcher. The first burst rocked the crab thing back, exposing its underside. The second burst struck the area around the plasma cannon, blowing the crab into several sizable pieces.

  While Bear was taking care of the crab, the human squad members were picking off the spiders swarming out from between the smaller haystacks of the hedgerow in front of them. Sanchez looked back toward the probe ship and yelled, “We got about twenty spiders and another one of those crab things coming behind us.”

  “That ain't all, Joey,” Reagan added. “they're coming down from the overhead too.” JT looked up and saw that the Marine was right—a half dozen spiders were drifting down from the ceiling. “Move it, brother Bear. We gotta break through the hedgerow or we are going to be overrun.”

  Chief's Skiff, Bottom of the Spiral Ramp

  The Chief was pushing the hover sled as fast as he could down the spiral ramp, hugging the curving wall of the station's inner shaft. Like a bobsled at the limit of adhesion, the side of the sled occasionally glanced off the station wall. Sitting next to the Chief up front, Dr. Saito was holding on with both hands, his features obscured by his suit's armored helmet.

  In the rear, behind the cargo of stolen antimatter and PFC Davis' truncated remains, Col. Kondratov and Tommy Wendover were similarly holding on for dear life. Tommy was on the left, the side facing the open shaft, his face ashen and his eyes tightly shut. The Colonel looked past him with mild disgust.

  Kondratov's fighter pilot trained eyes picked up a formation of moving objects against the stationary background of the central shaft. Each of the objects produced a bright speck of light, which slowly grew larger. “Oi blin! We are being fired on!”

  “What's that?” the Chief shouted. His question was answered by a plasma bolt that splashed red-orange fire across the wall just in front of the speeding sled. “Shit! Hold on, we're almost to the lower landing.”

  More bolts were on their way. Ivan fixated on one in particular. Fighter pilots are a superstitious lot and among their tribal lore is the golden bb—a one in a million shot that takes out your plane, and you with it. Well there it was, a golden ball of light coming straight for him. Just before the bb arrived, Ivan grabbed Tommy and pulled him in front of his body as a shield.

  The bolt struck Tommy's suit square in the backpack, its sun hot plasma burning through fabric and metal and then eating into flesh and bone. Tommy's eyes widened in pain, but the shock of the impact gave him no time to cry out. The fireball consumed most of the major organs in Tommy's body but did not burn through the front of his suit—Ivan was untouched.

  Crystals of ice and freeze dried blood streamed from the young man's corpse. As his face began to distort in the vacuum, frost formed on the inside of his helmet, sparing Col. Kondratov a final view of the man he had just murdered. Easing Tommy's plasma eviscerated body down beside the alien antimatter eggs, Ivan glanced forward. Neither the Chief, who was busy flying the sled, nor Yuki, who was hunkered down and hanging on for dear life, had noticed Tommy's heroic but involuntary last act.

  “Tommy's been hit,” Ivan called out. Then, finding Davis' rail gun lying next to his remains, picked the weapon up and shouted, “I'm returning fire!” Firing offhanded while still clinging to the sled's side rail, Ivan hit nothing, but the attacking aliens broke off and circled around for another pass. Before they returned the sled bounced onto the horizontal platform, skidded sideways and disappeared into the dark tunnel leading back to the ship.

  Lt. Curtis' Party, Outside of the Egg Room

  Bright light flashed and flickered around Lt. Curtis' diminished party. The two Marines continued to calmly pick off their flying tormentors, but as quickly as the attacking creatures were destroyed new ones took their place. It was only a matter of time before one of the aliens scored a lucky shot. Gretchen knew this but was having a hard time leaving Susan.

  Susan appeared to be going into shock, her face pale and withdrawn. Gretchen was kneeling just outside of the shimmering blue curtain of energy that held Susan trapped within the antimatter storage room. “Look, when we get to the bottom of the landing I'll ask the Captain to send reinforcements, maybe a cutting laser or something.” Gretchen knew it was a lie as she said it. Once out, there was no way they were coming back inside the station core.

  A plasma bolt struck the deck to Gretchen's right, sending a wave of sparks and flame swirling around the Lieutenant's armored figure. The Gunny turned away from the flying menace and sent a long burst along the platform, the green balls of tracer light contrasting festively with the red-orange glow of the plasma bolts. “Shit! Lieutenant, we got spiders on the ramp. We gotta move.”

  Susan looked up at Gretchen and her eyes focused. “OK” she said, holding up one of the manual detonators. “Tell me how this works.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “How long is the timer set for?”

  “There's about 35 minutes left.”

  “The aliens are coming and you have to go. What if they break in and remove all the explosives before they go off? I'm not getting out, and I sure as hell don't want my death to mean nothing. Tell me how to set the explosives off manually, in case they try to come in after me.”

  “Susan...” Gretchen began.

  “Gretchen, we don't have time! Tell me how to work the fucking detonator!”

  “OK, it's simple.” The manual detonator was shaped like a single hand grip from a jump rope or a hand exerciser. There was a long, rectangular button down the front of the grip and a single round button sticking up from the top. “Squeeze the grip, holding the long button down. This activates the explosive charges. It will take a few seconds for them all to become ready, when they are you will see a small red light on each of them. Then, use your thumb to press the top button.”

  “That's it?”

  “That's it.”

  “OK, get out of here, save yourselves. I don't want your lives on my conscience. And Gretchen...”

  “Yes?” She said, standing up and checking her weapon.

  “Tell Billy Ray that...” Another near
miss sent sparks and gobs of molten metal in all directions. Gretchen ducked reflexively and then shouted, “tell him what?”

  “Forget it, just go!” With that Susan turned and ran back into the interior of the egg room, disappearing behind the freestanding racks of large eggs. Gretchen stared after her friend for a few moments, tears welling in her eyes. Oh Susan, who would have thought you were so brave?

  Gretchen shook the tears from her eyes and turned to the Marines. “OK, we need to get out of here, at the double.”

  Lt. Bear's Party, In the Hedgerows

  Bear and party had just cleared their third hedgerow when they stopped to try contacting the ship and check their bearings. The aliens continued to swarm toward them from all directions, mostly spiders but also the larger and harder to kill crabs. If this kept up much longer they would start running short on ammo, grenades in particular.

  “By my count, we have one more row to cross and we should be in the docking bay where the ship is,” JT said. He was beginning to wonder why he had hung on to the damn egg. “Reagan, rig up a sling for this egg thing, so I can carry it on my back. I've got a feeling I'm going to need both arms free before this is over.”

  “No problem, JT.” Reagan pulled out one of the large sample bags they each carried and slipped the egg inside. Then he moved behind JT and began attaching the bag's straps to tie down points on his backpack. “Just don't get hit, this thing could take out most of the landing dock.”

  “Parker's Folly, this is Bear. Come in.”

  “Go ahead, Lt. Bear. We were getting worried.”

  “Be worried. We got about 100 spiders and some even nastier things chasing us. They're probably pissed off because JT stole the fuel cell from one of their probe ships.”

  “Say again, you have a probe ship fuel cell? You found another probe?”

  “That's affirmative. Of course, they might be pissed because we blew the shit out of the ship when JT nabbed the fuel container.”

  A pause. “Where are you? How fast can you get back here?”

  “We are about to break through the hedgerow off the ship's port side, about halfway between the ship and the central column. Be aware, when we do all sorts of hell is going to break loose.”

  “Roger that. We are just now receiving a report from Lt. Curtis' party. They are headed this way and are under heavy attack. Wait one, Bear.”

  “Now what?” Feldman asked.

  “Bear, Parker's Folly.”

  “Go Parker's Folly.”

  “Move into position between the ship and the central column and be ready to provide cover fire for Lt. Curtis' returning party. The Chief's sled is about to come out of the tunnel with wounded and more fuel cells, over.”

  “Roger that, Folly. We are on the way.” Switching to the squad's frequency Bear rumbled. “OK boys, let's go before Lt. Curtis kills all of the bugs and we are left standing around with our dicks in our paws.”

  A pair of spiders came out of the hedgerow behind the squad. Feldman and Sanchez quickly put them down with short bursts of 5mm. “We're supposed to cover them,” Feldman said to Sanchez on suit-to-suit, “who's going to cover us?”

  Chapter 21

  Bridge, Parker's Folly, Alien Docking Bay

  The Captain had just signed off with Lt. Bear when Chief Zackly called from the returning hover sled. “Folly, this is the Chief Zackly in the skiff. We're almost out of the tunnel and headed for the ship with three souls on board, two KIA and a shit pot full of antimatter eggs.”

  “We read you, Chief. Where are the others?” Jack had not heard from Lt. Curtis since sending the Chief's party to help retrieve the antimatter and rig the station for destruction. The only update the ship received was the unwelcome news that Lt. Bear's party was under attack.

  “They should be close behind, Captain. We started takin' fire from assorted bug nasties and the LT told us to head back ahead of them.”

  “Roger. Be aware that Lt. Bear and company will be coming out of the hedgerow on your starboard side. They have also been under attack by alien entities.” Damn, this whole operation is starting to head south. You have too many balls in the air, Jack scolded himself, what ever happened to Keep It Simple Stupid?

  “Aye, Captain. We'll be along side in five minutes.”

  Jack looked forward through the ship's transparent bow in time to see the Chief's hover sled burst from the core tunnel opening, accompanied by bolts of plasma fire. “Ms. Hamilton, Ms. Betts, make ready to fire on the aliens pursuing our boarding party. Do not fire until I give the word.”

  “Yes, I mean aye aye, Captain,” Jolene replied nervously. “How do we identify the aliens?”

  “They look like large metal spiders and will be shooting orange bolts of fire at us.” I have untrained people about to provide supporting fire using gigajoule X-ray lasers. Luda's first impression was right, I must be insane.

  On the Moon the enemy was farther away and clearly separated from our own people, plus that was in the open. Here we are boxed up in the docking bay, surrounded on all sides by metal that could scatter and reflect the laser radiation. As soon as the boarding party is back on board we will sterilize this place, but right now the last thing I want is to irradiate half of the ship's complement.

  “Engineering, Bridge. Mr. Medina, bring the reactors back to full operational capacity and make the engines ready for departure.”

  “Aye aye, Sir.”

  “Helm, be prepared to back Folly out of here as soon as we recover the boarding party. Mr. Vincent, we may need a few rounds from the forward battery to cover our egress.”

  The Boarding Party, Alien Docking Bay

  As the hover sled exited the dark tunnel, Col. Kondratov was still laying down suppressing fire. Glowing bolts of plasma flew by on both sides of the speeding skiff, while Ivan's fire, the tracer rounds glowing like green flares from a roman candle, provided no noticeable deterrent to the alien attack. Still, since Tommy was killed the aliens had not managed to hit the fleeing sled. “Not the best of shots, are they?” Kondratov commented.

  “I think that they are trying to avoid hitting the eggs, Colonel,” Yuki answered. “If they breach one of the large ones the entire station will be destroyed.”

  “Keep yer heads down,” the Chief snapped, jinking the skiff from side to side as fiery orange death rained down from above. “We're almost home free.”

  * * * * *

  Sizemore and Washington, crouched down on either side of the tunnel opening, saw the hover sled flash by, accompanied by attendant plasma bolts. Following the speeding skiff, three stubby bodied flying aliens emerged, long plasma cannon snouts ablaze. “Take those flying things out, Washington,” Cpl. Sizemore ordered, himself loosing a long burst of flechettes at the nearest of the rapidly receding creatures.

  Washington was forced to wait until the skiff cleared his line of fire. Then he too blasted away at the flying hostiles. His target came apart under repeated impacts by 5mm tungsten-steel flechettes traveling at 4,000 fps. His feeling of triumph was short lived as a score of spindly legged metal spiders entered the bay from the hedgerow to his left. “Corp! We got spiders on the left.”

  Sizemore finished off his second flying target and looked right. “I hear ya. They're coming from the right too.”

  * * * * *

  As Bear's party broke through the last hedgerow between themselves and the ship's docking bay, they saw the Chief's skiff speed by. They also saw a phalanx of spiders moving into the bay on either side of them. “Hose 'em down!” Bear growled, unlimbering his flechette mini-gun.

  Sanchez and Feldman on the squad's left, sent quick aimed bursts into the mob of six legged critters between their position and the central column. Between them and Sizemore, they had the spiders in a crossfire. JT and Reagan did likewise on the right, where the two crewmen who had been standing guard outside the port cargo door were also engaging the massed formation of spiders.

  Seeing that the spiders coming from the nearside hedgerow
were being neutralized, Bear concentrated on the far hedgerow. He fired a long burst, slowly sweeping his foreleg from left to right. The mini-gun's impact point moved in a continuous arc from the hedgerow wall near Washington to a point just off the ship's starboard bow. Over two thousand flechettes, every fifth one a bright green tracer, cut down the advancing spiders like a scythe cutting wheat. “The fire hose of death,” he chuckled. “Hey JT, I really like this gun!”

  “I'm happy that you're happy,” the ex-green beret turned weapon's designer replied. “Now make us all happy and kill something, a lot of somethings.”

  “With pleasure.” Hidden by his helmet, Bear wore an expression of pure feral joy.

  * * * * *

  As the rest of the boarding party was engaged in thinning the ranks of alien combatants, Gretchen, Kwan and the Gunny were arriving at the tunnel's inner platform. Making the awkward transition from the spiral pathway to the platform the Gunny stumbled, rolled and ended back on her feet. I couldn't have done that if I had planned it, she said to herself.

  Gretchen, who's transition was not nearly as spectacular as the Gunny's, reached out and steadied PFC Kwan, who had also stumbled but not fallen in the changing gravity field. “Inside the tunnel mouth,” she ordered. “Then we'll pause for a minute while I check with the ship and find out what we will face when we get back to the docking bay.”

  The two Marines moved quickly to comply. Though the gravity was light, running in the bulky armor was tiring. Without being asked, their suits' environmental units had boosted the oxygen levels in the air they were breathing and stepped up CO2 removal. Even so, it was not enough to keep the three from becoming winded. “Folly, Lt. Curtis,” the Lieutenant called between panting breaths.

  “Lt. Curtis, Folly. What is your location and status?”

  “We are just entering the tunnel back to the docking bay. We've been under attack since we left the egg room. Interrogative the Chief's status?” Fumbling because of adrenalin and her suit's heavy gauntlets, Gretchen began loading more HE rounds into her launcher.