“You destroyed my ship,” the blonde woman says. “I can’t believe you did that. You have no idea what you’ve done.”
“You boarded my ship,” I snarl. “I had no choice. You have no right to be here.”
“Myra, bring him to the bridge.” She raises an eyebrow at me. “This human and I need to have a talk.”
“I locked the bridge. How did you get out?”
Myra scoffs. “Your primitive systems are pathetic.”
Grabbing under my arm, Myra effortlessly lifts me to my feet. She pushes me with just her fingertips, forcing me to the hatch opening. How is she so strong?
I look to the blonde woman. “You must be Theena?”
Her brow tightens, arms folding over her chest. “So, you were listening in on us. Smart for such a simple species. Your actions make a little more sense now.”
“Why can’t I kill him?” Myra asks Theena. “He destroyed our home. He needs to pay.”
“Oh, he will suffer for his actions, but we need him alive for now.”
They force me into the hall, Myra’s pistol jabbing into my back as we move. A trickle of sweat falls from my brow, my nerves running free. As we walk, I figure out why they haven’t killed me. They’re not human. They can’t control the S1. The computer will only give a member of the crew control of the ship. If I’m dead, the ship will take over and return to the original mission.
We reach the short flight of stairs leading up to the bridge. Theena turns to Myra before we head up. “Once we secure him, have Seroa and Evyce gather the rotting bodies into the holding dock. Start with that one.” She points to Lt. Masters in the rec room.
Myra nods.
Myra and Theena each force a forearm under my arms. I tense up. We all lift off the ground, gliding up the flight of stairs to the top landing. My eyes widen as I kick my dangling legs, trying to touch the floor. “What the— How are you doing this?” I shout.
“There’s lots we can do that your primitive body cannot,” Myra says.
Maybe they’re a human experiment gone wrong. I try to wrap my mind around all the questions these beings present, but how they got here doesn’t make any sense. Whoever they are, I can’t let them use me to get to Earth.
“What makes you think I’ll help you with anything?” I ask, my feet now back on the ground. We stand in front of the bridge’s hatch.
“You will do what we say,” Theena says, “or we’ll kill your entire bloodline on Earth.”
My son’s face pops into my mind. I left him so he might have a chance at a better future.
“I don’t have family,” I lie.
The bridge door whooshes back and we walk in. Three more female, human-looking beings mull about.
“Oh, Len Morrow,” Theena says, a grin filling her face. “You might have locked out navigation and critical systems, but we had no trouble accessing crew records when we boarded this vessel.”
Myra takes me to one of the bridge chairs off to the side. She forces me to sit. “I suggest you don’t move, or I will fuse your limbs to the metal arms of that chair.”
I stay put. There’s nothing I can do with all these freaks watching me.
“If I don’t help you, no one gets to Earth,” I say. “I destroyed your ship. My family is safe.”
“Don’t misunderstand my words.” Theena leans over me. “You will die for destroying our vessel. But first you will help us gain control of this archaic ship. If not, we will kill Kyle, as well as every blood tie you have on that dying planet.”
“That sounds like an awesome deal for me, but I’ll pass. Without me, you have nothing.”
Theena leans back and stands tall. “I was giving you a chance to do this on your own. We’ve dealt with your species before. You’re cruel and unevolved, but very easily persuaded. I am offering you the chance to see your son one last time before we cleanse your planet. You’re a failed species. You’ve had your chance.”
I raise my head, narrowing my gaze onto her eyes. “Sorry, I’m stubborn. Go to hell.”
Theena lunges at me, her strong fingers clutching around my neck. I latch on to her wrists with my hands. She lifts me out of the chair and holds me as high as her reach will go. She tightens her grip, cutting off my breathing. My mouth flies open as I hopelessly try to swallow air.
“Your human notion of hell doesn’t exist,” Theena snarls. “But the one I can create for you does. The computer needs a human life sign on board, but barely alive will work too.”
She tosses me back into the chair. The seat nearly drops to the floor before springing back up. My lower back stings from the impact. I wince in pain, trying to catch my breath.
“Myra, paralyze him.”
I crane my neck to look at Myra as she struts over toward me. Her head’s down, a sinister grin plastered on her face. I fall out of the chair, looking for an escape. She grabs my leg and pins it down. She raises her fist and slams it into my back. A ripple of intense pain floods from my spine throughout my body. My eyes roll back and everything goes dark.
***
“Wake up human,” a voice says, barely cutting through the fog in my mind.
My eyes refuse to open. A dryness in my throat prevents me from saying anything.
“I said wake up,” the voice snarls.
This time my eyes flicker open. The intensity of the light above me is unbearable. I try to move my arm to cover my eyes, but nothing happens. I must be strapped down. Squinting, I tilt my head to the side to see a shadowy figure emerge from a few feet away. It’s Myra.
“There you are,” she says, a fake smile forced on her face.
“What happened?” The words barely escape from my lips. “Why can’t I move?”
“Oh, you don’t remember?”
The moment she says it, a vision of her raising her fist at me bursts before my mind.
“You broke my back.” I try as hard as possible to move, but nothing happens. I’m trapped in my body.
Swallowing deeply brings a bit a moisture to my scratchy throat. I scan over my surroundings. An IV hangs above me. I’m in the med bay. The intense white light and white walls are a dead giveaway.
“That’s right.” Myra leans over me. “You brought this on yourself, human.”
“What is wrong with you? Why would you do this?”
“Your beating heart is all we needed,” she says.
A few beeps sound from where I lay. She engages the incline on the medical table. A slow hum emits as I’m brought to a sitting position. Straps stretch across my legs and chest, keeping me from sliding off. Myra rips the IV from my arm. I feel nothing. I can’t even feel my chest rise and fall as I breathe. There’s nothing from the neck down. Nothing. She starts to roll me out of the room.
“Where are you taking me?” I ask, the will to fight gone.
“Theena would like to see you on the bridge.”
I say nothing as she wheels me through the ship and to the base of the stairs that lead to the bridge. With both hands, she picks up the inclined stretcher and floats me up to the door. She activates the hatch and it slides back. Rolling me in, she says, “We’ve got a surprise for you.”
Not only is my back broken, but so is my spirit. Her words are meaningless now.
The familiar voice of Theena booms throughout the room. “Morrow, there you are.”
Myra rolls me to the back of the bridge and turns me to face Theena, who stands near the front of the S1. Her hands are planted on her hips. She has a new hairstyle today. A long ponytail gathers her bright blonde hair neatly to the side, hanging over her shoulder. Several of her crew man posts on the bridge.
I raise my brows. “You pretending this is your ship now?”
“There’s no need to pretend,” she replies. “We gained control of these crude systems a few days after we last spoke.”
“What?” My eyes widen. “Computer, are your systems still locked?”
Nothing. She doesn’t respond. I look down at my wrist to find the operati
ons key gone.
“Are you looking for this?” Theena asks, raising an arm to show the key strapped to her wrist. “This was easy to hack. We have full control of the Kyoria II. We just needed you alive long enough to reprogram our new vessel.”
Kyoria II? How could this happen? If they have control of the ship, they must be on their way to Earth.
“Please, I’ll cooperate,” I plead. “Earth is mostly underwater now, there’s nothing left to destroy. Take the ship and just go.”
Theena turns to the woman at the comm post and nods. The crew member pushes a button and looks forward. The front display brightens, exposing Earth’s beauty, which fills the entire viewscreen. The vast blue ocean and wispy clouds glimmer in the sun’s glow. This doesn’t make sense.
“We didn’t travel all this way just to turn around now,” Theena says.
“How is this possible? This isn’t real. You’re showing me a recording.”
“Oh, Morrow.” She looks over her shoulder at the large display before returning to me. “This is not a recording. We’ve made some improvements to the propulsion and cut our travel time down to eight Earth months. You’re home.”
My vision shakes and my breathing quickens. I don’t understand what’s going on. I gather my thoughts—I need to focus.
“What do you mean by eight months?” I beg.
“You’ve been in an induced coma for about nine of your Earth months. We figured it was time to wake you.”
My son enters my thoughts. His round face and innocent eyes grab at my heart. He’s down there somewhere. This can’t be happening. A tear streams from my eye and rolls down my cheek.
“We want to thank you for your service,” Theena says, “but we haven’t needed you for months. You destroyed our ship. We just wanted you to see Earth before we phase out humanity, phase out your son.”
“Who are you?” The words tremble as they slip from my mouth.
“We’re the last of our kind. Species like yours destroyed our world and killed everyone but us. We’re all that’s left. We’re the Daughters of Ayor.”
A sharp pinch on the base of my neck forces my head back. Myra stands above me. My breathing becomes short. A blade is pulled free, blood dripping on my forehead as she holds it above me. There’s no pain, but I feel empty. My vision flickers with light. I take one last shallow breath, and everything goes dark.
***
My eyes won’t open—why won’t they open? I’m so cold, but I’m not shivering. Am I dead?
A mumbled voice comes from the distance. The garbled tones blend together, incoherently. I try to lean forward, but something across my chest holds me in place. My eyelids flitter but remain useless—leaving me in the dark.
“Are you with me,” a female voice calls.
My mouth cracks open, but only a weak breath flows out.
“It’s ok, don’t talk. Save your strength.”
Once again, I try to lift my eyelids open. This time a crack of light seeps in and a blurred silhouette stands before me.
The form glides toward me. “Don’t move too much or you will re-open that wound.”
“Who are you?” My voice barely escapes.
The form comes into focus and a beautiful woman with dark brown wavy hair stands just feet from me. “My name is Bellyse and I brought you back to life.”
“Wait, what? Where am I? Earth? My son? Are they—”
Leaning closer to me, the woman’s green eyes brighten, and she smiles. “Not yet.”
I stiffen in my seat, but the restraints lock me in place. “What’s going on? Where am I?” I demand.
“You are on my ship,” she says. “I found your body in a disposal pod, floating in orbit around your planet Earth.”
My vision clears, and I take in the room. Dark metal lines the walls with dim lighting in all four corners. This room is no more than fifteen feet across.
“Why did you save me?” I plead. “What do you want with me?”
“I want to save humanity, and I can’t do it alone.”
I swallow deeply. “Are you one of them?”
“Yes and no.”
“I am from Ayor, but I am not with them,” she says.
“What do I have to do with this?” I ask.
She kneels down to look right into my eyes. “You’re special, I made sure of it.”
“Stop with these riddles,” I snarl. “Tell me what you did.”
Bellyse pauses for a moment. “You’re no longer human, you’re the first Son of Ayor and you are going to help me kill the Daughters.”
Author David Berstein
David R. Bernstein is a huge sci-fi fan. He devours every new book, movie or show that has a gritty edge to it. He started to write a few years ago and has not looked back.
Start the Influence series or head to David’s Amazon page to find out about more releases.
Find David online: Facebook | Twitter | Instagram | Site (sign up for FREE books)
One Last Battle
By Timothy Ellis
This story occurs 100 years before the beginning of Hero at Large, in the Hunter Legacy Universe. Yorktown Recon fleet, scouting the Cuba system in Earth sector, 2515.
One
I was only on the launch deck for one reason.
The shuttle was taking me to an evac hospital, for invaliding home. I was in the seat, duffel stowed, pondering the end of my flying career. They said I’d never fly again. They said if I ever tried, I'd kill myself doing it. And most likely others as well.
I didn’t get it. I could do everything except run and fight. They didn’t want me. It was easier to train a new pilot. Fleet wanted command officers out of fleet officer school, not battered ex-fighter jocks.
"Now hear this! All pilots to your fighters. Launch by squadrons. This is not a drill."
I didn’t need to see, to know what was happening. I’d lived it so many times, I was out of my seat and halfway to the hatch, before I realized it didn’t include me. The non-com on the door looked at me as if I was crazy. But I didn’t stop.
Down the steps, and fast hobbling, took me to the nearest status board. Every fighter pilot who could run, was already firing out the launch tubes, or being loaded in. The scanner repeat showed why.
The enemy had caught us this time, and exactly where I'd have expected them to. And they outgunned us. Two smaller carriers to our larger one. Fleet wise, about the same mixture, but it was the fighters which always concerned me. Fighters won battles. Fleets delivered them, and if you were down to just the fleet, you’d already lost. A fighter pilot viewpoint to be sure, and one which capital ship weenies objected to, and maybe I was biased. I'd never been in a full fleet action before, and no-one else in the American sector had either. It'd been fifty years since capital ships had fought a Jutland like action, and Jutland still held the record for the number of big hulls involved.
Fighters did the grunt work these days. The brass had sent a fighter recon ahead, and so had the Germans. With a whole solar system to play in, you'd have thought we'd not have been in such a bad position as this, but there you go. The pilot's role was launching, not making strategy.
I watched as the last of the fighters on board launched.
I watched as they started winking out on the display. One in particular caught my eye, and tightened my chest. Mine.
Something was wrong. This wasn’t going as well as it should have.
"Sir? What are you doing here, sir?"
My old squadron's crew chief had recognised me standing there.
"Any birds left?" I heard myself ask.
"Yours was reassigned."
"I know. It's already gone. What's left?"
"Not much. Half dozen birds too damaged to fly. And..."
"And?"
"There's the CAG's personal bird sir. But don't even think about it."
I thought about it. The display was showing enemy fighters now as well, and ours were winking out faster than theirs were. The CAG was a penguin. He
rarely ever flew anymore. And his ship? Was the best.
"Get me in the launch tube Chief."
He looked at me for a second, before leading the way, running on ahead, calling over the deck crew. By the time I caught up, they had the bird in the tube, and stairs waiting for me. Someone threw a flight smock at me, and stood there with the helmet. I slipped into it, and limped up the stairs, still tugging on the zip. Long step, half jump in, and I was sitting. Canopy closed, belted in. Helmet on as the tube door closed behind me.
Thumbs up to the deck officer, salute, and brace.
The catapult fired, and I launched.
Two
The bird launches mechanically.
Engines on, but no thrust, accelerated out of the tube by a catapult, attached to the undercarriage. Nine gees when released, and for the first several seconds, the building gees have to be borne by the pilot until the compensator kicks in.
For a normal healthy pilot, this is the price of flying fighters. A kick back into the seat like being punched in the chest, vision blurs for a moment, and the internal gravity nullifies the gees. By the time you're in space, you've forgotten it happened.
The gees crushed me, threatening to make me pass out. As they eased, I felt wetness dribbling down inside my clothes. I guessed synthskin pulled, and wounds reopened. There was more pain, and right now, nothing I could do about it.
My mind wandered for a moment, reliving the crash landing which had ended my career. Waking in the hospital unable to move.
"I'm sorry Captain Jedburgh, your flying days are over. We had to remove your left lung and kidney, but managed to save your spleen and liver. You lost some intestines as well, and your left leg is held together with plasteel pins. The worst is over, but we'll be sending you home to recover fully, before discharging you."
The Expanding Universe 4: Space Adventure, Alien Contact, & Military Science Fiction (Science Fiction Anthology) Page 33
