He tapped at the control panel and the 3D model returned, just above the console. He repositioned it closer to me with a swipe of his hand.
“Thanks. How come this jungle area didn’t show up on here earlier?”
“System only knows what System knows. It wasn’t a real-time scan, just a model based on past knowledge of such ships. I assure you, though, the information has been updated.”
I managed to avoid rolling my eyes. “Show me again where we put the Stryker . . . that hold area that’s rarely accessed by anyone.”
Hannig examined the model, furrowing his brow. “Ahh, here it is.” He used two fingers to expand the zoom-level of the model. The compartment was far aft within the vessel—almost within the Engineering section, where the ship’s big propulsion drives were located. I actually now saw the military vehicle sitting there within a relatively large, unoccupied compartment. “We’re going to need a place to stick these hostages as they’re rescued. Seems like this compartment will be as good a place as any. Let’s head out of here before anything else unexpected happens.”
“Good idea,” Caputo said.
I followed his line of sight out the portal window. Different-looking Wikk insects had arrived on scene. I counted twenty of them. Not only were these creatures wearing bright red bands around their chests, they were armed. And each of them had shown up riding a kind of mechanical scooter thing that hovered a foot or so off the ground.
“What kind of weapons are those rifles?” Matteo asked.
System immediately answered his question. “They’re called Plasma-Gens. Specifically designed to disrupt organic material, flesh, while doing no damage to inorganic surfaces, such as bulkheads and deck plating.”
Slowly, I backed the Watcher Craft away from the Wikk security detail. Within moments, we were moving fast, headed aft. Outside, the Activity Mess jungle terrain had transformed into something more akin to a Nevada desert. What looked like a typical community of small Earth-style homes pocked the arid and rocky-looking landscape. In the distance, a long, winding line of Wikk insects was parading forward in a kind of high-stride lockstep, reminiscent of old World War II news reels I’d seen where Nazi soldiers marched under the cool gaze of the infamous führer. They continued on toward the first of the faux houses.
“What do you bet there’s human families in those houses?” Carlo said. “They’re play acting. Practicing what they’re going to do down on Earth.”
“Well we can’t do anything about that now,” Gordo said, glowering at me. “Unless you think we can add a whole damn neighborhood of people in here!”
The landscape changed again, this time to a winter scene. Deep snowdrifts occupied the steep rise of a manufactured mountainside. There were pine trees, branches laden with white snowfall. The Wikk here, thirty to forty of them, were headed upward and not doing particularly well. Their spindly, thin, feetless legs spiked deep into the snow instead of walking atop it.
“Fuckers are really struggling out there.” Gordo said with a smile.
“I wonder who’s at the top of that rise in those trees?” Georgina said, more somberly.
I increased our speed; soon, the outside terrain was little more than a blur. I couldn’t afford for us to be distracted by more individual people to save. We had a bigger goal in mind.
Hannig pointed to the model. “Getting close. We must descend down two levels to reach the hold, Dominic.”
I brought the Watcher Craft to a halt and, as Hannig suggested, began our descent. This wasn’t the first time it occurred to me that I shouldn’t know how to do this—to do any of this. And it was all because of a DNA-altering lozenge.
I paid little attention to the next levels, other than that they were dark. Finally, we reached one that was well-illuminated. We’d lowered into what looked to be a wide corridor. Wide enough that our Watcher Craft had room on both sides between it and the bulkheads. An enormous hatch doorway loomed before us. Stenciled in Wikk symbols, I read the sign.
WARNING
DO NOT ENTER!
“That’s where you put the Stryker? In a place where there’s a big warning sign?” Gordo asked, making an overdramatic face.
He was really starting to get on my nerves. I shot him a stern look. “Let’s just see what we’re dealing with in there.” I coaxed the Watcher Craft forward. Slowly, we passed through the metal hatchway. The compartment was indeed big. And our Stryker vehicle was situated in the middle of the space. Excess dirt and rocks from the cow tunnel were spread out beneath its eight large wheels.
“What is that god-awful smell?!” Gordo complained, covering his nose and mouth.
We all followed suit. Fighting my gag reflex, I looked about the compartment and saw that it was a jumble of big pipes running along the ceiling and outer bulkheads. On the deck were four, twenty-foot-tall metal holding tanks and several large, pumping turbines. Two of the biggest pipes, easily five feet in diameter, were completely see-through, whatever the Wikk equivalent of Plexiglas was. A brown, viscous sludge was rushing through the pipes, making gurgling noises, coursing its way into the holding tanks.
“I know what this compartment is!” Hannig said with a far-too-optimistic tone.
“It’s a fucking waste-treatment center,” Gordo said. “Your mind-altering lozenge has provided me with that little bit of wisdom, so thank you very much for that.”
I noticed that almost everyone had taken their hands away from their noses. As bad as the smell was, it was bearable. No one was gonna like it, but we’d have to get somewhat accustomed to it.
“Hannig, we’ll have to make this Watcher Craft Visible, correct? To keep out that smell?”
“Yes, I’m afraid so.”
“Let’s do that. The good news is, no one in their right mind is going to wander in here, at least not without an environmental suit of some kind.”
Caputo said, “Wait! Will that let us be detected in here? Are there sensors that will alert the Wikk of our presence, of the ship?”
Hannig tapped at his control board for several moments before shaking his head. “There isn’t much in the way of security in here. If you were to alter the flow within any of the pipes, that sort of thing, yes, that would light up some indicators on the bridge. I believe, unless they specifically search this area, we will remain undetected.”
We rematerialized, and within moments the smell was already fading. I felt a cool breeze on my face as the little ship’s filtration system kicked into overdrive.
I said, “We can’t count on that. Let’s assume, eventually, they will come looking in here. And, at the very least, they’ll find the Stryker and the hostages.”
“You’re really going to make them stay out there?” Lori said, entering the control center.
I nodded. “This is kinda impromptu, but let’s get as many of the hostages held in those holding cells shuttled up here as possible, in groups. Better for them to be here in relative hidden safety before we commence any kind of offensive action. If you, or anyone, has a better idea, I’m more than open to listening to it,” I said.
“I keep coming back to the fact there are over two thousand Wikk here on this ship. The odds—how do we have a chance against that?” Lori said.
Gordo let out a belch and said, “One green fucking bug at a time,”
I continued, “We’ll need to speak with the hostages in the back of the ship. They’ll have first-hand knowledge we can use from what they’ve seen here. Knowledge is power.”
Reluctantly, minutes later, the hostages were exiting the aft hatch of the Watcher Craft—nobody was thrilled to be leaving our sanitary and fresh-smelling confines. Both rescuers and hostages took in the oversized compartment.
I prompted everyone to head over to the Stryker.
“Wait—how the hell did this thing get here?” the balding, middle-aged guy with a paunch asked. “And who are you guys, again?”
Georgina took care of it. “Look, we have a limited amount of time, people. We can’
t get into all the details, that’s a luxury we don’t have.”
I looked over the hostages—mostly men, plus three women and the child. “Does anyone here have prior military experience?” I asked.
A muscular black man raised a hand, the same one who had run through the control center earlier. Both he and little Tommy, having narrowly evaded the Wikk, were exceptionally lucky to still be alive.
“I was in the Navy five years back,” he said..
“SEAL?” Georgina asked, giving him an appraising once-over.
“No, sorry. Logistics Coordinator. E4, Petty Officer. I worked in a stock room. Never left Virginia.”
“But you went through basic, right?” I asked.
“RTC. Same thing,” he said nodding.
“Good. What’s your name?
“Gary Barns.”
“Okay Gary, you’re now on Alpha squad with Carlo, Matteo and Lori.”
The Alpha squad members offered up a half-hearted wave.
Gary looked almost amused. “There’s squads?”
Caputo said, “Yeah, we have three teams. The one you’re now on, and Delta squad, which I’m running. I’m Tito Caputo, Hannig’s the alien over there, and then Elmo over here. Bravo squad includes Gordo, Georgina, and Dommy . . . Dominic, that big guido, he’s our leader. An actual war hero.”
Uncomfortable with the praise, I forced a smile to Gary and the hostages.
But Gary wasn’t looking at me. He was looking at Hannig, noticing him for the first time. The other hostages had also noticed the alien and were staring.
Tommy said, “What’s wrong with his face? And his legs?”
“Tommy!” his mother said, scolding him. “Don’t be rude!”
“This is Hannig,” I said. “Yes, he is an alien. From another world many light years away from Earth. That is his spaceship, and he’s agreed to help us. But he doesn’t have the, um, blessings from his own kind. So we owe him our gratitude.”
“Can you take us back home?” the elderly lady asked.
“Not yet,” I said. “What can you tell me about the other hostages? To start, how many are there?”
Gary scratched the stubble on his chin. “Not sure. They kept us separated in a number of holding cells until releasing us into that . . . place. Fifty to seventy-five of us to a cell. Sometimes more.”
“How many cells? What’s your best guess as to how many prisoners there are total?”
The balding man interjected. “Easily a thousand people. And I’m Carl, by the way.”
Gordo shook his head. “A thousand? You sure about that?”
Carl shrugged. “Yeah, it’s totally packed down there on the lower decks. Horrific conditions. People crammed in there, shitting and pissing where they stand. And there’s a food tube.”
“What’s a food tube?” Gordo prompted.
“You ever see a hamster cage? How the rodent can lap up some water from a hanging metal tube?” Carl looked at us, waiting for our reaction, but we just stared. “There’s both a water tube and a food tube. The food is like a kind of mealy porridge. Not so bad tasting, all things considered.”
“Are you crazy? It’s gross. I hate it!” Tommy said.
I exchanged a look with Hannig. “So you knew about this? Is this common knowledge for the Khantam Lom?”
“Unfortunately, yes. The Wikk will deliver these hostages to another world, to a propagation farm. That, or establish Earth itself as a propagation farm.”
“And knowing that, they still decided not to intervene. To leave us to that fate,” Lori said.
“We’ve already been through this,” Georgina said. “Let’s move on.”
I looked about the waste-treatment center. “I don’t know. It’ll be pretty cramped having a thousand people jammed in here. And even if we could, that would require thirty-four trips, assuming we can even thirty at a time into the Watcher Craft.” I realized my mental math skills had improved since taking that last lozenge.
“What’s our alternative?” Caputo said.
“No alternative,” I eventually said. “But we should think beyond just saving the hostages.”
“How so?”
“According to Hannig, the Wikk really like our planet. A lot. We’re on their dinner menu, and there’s no getting ourselves off it. Sure, we’ll attempt to rescue the hostages. Get them moved into this compartment. Eventually get them back down to Earth. But what then?”
“Well, at least we’ll be saved. So we can return to our families,” Carl said, looking to his fellow hostages for consensus.
Lori, slowly nodding, said, “No. You’re right. We have to take this ship. We have to at least try to defend Earth.”
Chapter 35
“You mentioned that the Wikk don’t really understand human speech.”
Hannig rose from all four legs onto his back legs. “Yes, Dominic, that is correct.”
“Look, in reality it won’t be just the ten of us against thousands of Wikk.” When that statement produced quizzical facial responses, I continued. “Like Gary Barns here, there will be at least some other hostages onboard that have either military or other useful experience, people that can actually fight alongside us. We just need to find them, set them free and, of course, arm them.”
“So what are you thinking?” Lori asked.
I scratched the stubble on my chin, then looked to Hannig again. “You remember seeing some kind of armory onboard? Within that 3D model of yours?”
“Yes. There is an armory. It’s on this level but much closer to the bow of the ship.”
“So it’s about two miles away from us.” I ran through things once more in my head. “Okay. We have three squads, right?” I had everyone’s attention. “Each squad will have one or more missions to accomplish. Missions that must be conducted in a particular order.”
“Go on, Dommy . . .” Georgina urged. I found her interest in the plan encouraging.
“We’ll start with the primary missions. First, we’ll need to take out the Dominate’s internal communications system. That’s imperative. Hannig, it’s your job to come up with a way, a plan that Caputo’s Delta Squad can execute.”
Hannig looked thoughtful. “The Wikk are agitated. Of course, they know the ship has been invaded. All those killings within the Activity Mess, and now the missing hostages. They are on high alert, searching for us.”
He wasn’t telling me anything I didn’t already know. We’d just have to deal with that. “Second, Bravo squad, my team, will need to locate that armory, then raid its contents.”
“What about Alpha squad?” Lori asked.
“Your squad will have its hands full. You’ll be in the Watcher Craft, charged with shuttling hostages out of the lower holds and bringing them up here.”
“But it won’t take long before the Wikk realize what’s going on. They could start killing off those hostages,” Lori replied.
“Yeah, maybe for spite, or even for leverage. Who knows?” Caputo added.
“Another reason why we need the Dominate’s comms taken out first.” I said, glancing toward Hannig. “We’ll stay in constant contact.” I gestured to my own headgear. “ Lori, your Alpha squad will give Delta a lift to wherever Hannig directs you to go, to take out those ship’s comms. You’ll drop them off first then head down to the holding cells.”
My attention was now focused on the large entry hatchway leading into the compartment. It was massive—fortunately for us, ample enough in width for the Stryker to drive right through.
“Okay, gear up, everyone. The Stryker has ample munitions on board. Get extra mags, frag grenades—”
Hannig raised his hand.
“You don’t need to raise your hand, Hannig, just say what you need to say.”
“There is a reason the Wikk do not use weaponry that can breach the hull, or damage vital ship systems.”
“You mean like assault rifles and frag grenades?”
Hannig inclined his head. “That is correct.”
“Well, in the short term, we can’t be hampered by that. Yes, everyone, try to avoid shooting toward the outer bulkheads. Grenades are a last resort. And let’s just hope we can swap our projectile weaponry for energy weapons fast.”
We had already practiced with our comms and were as ready as we were going to be, considering the limited amount of time we’d had. Ten minutes later, both Lori’s Alpha squad and Caputo’s Delta squad were back inside the Watcher Craft. Hannig had pinpointed the exact location of the armory, which was well-guarded by a dozen or so armed bugs. It seemed as though the Wikk had anticipated our intentions. We’d just have to deal with it.
“I said, “Bravo Leader to Hannig . . . do you copy?”
“Oh yes, Dominic, I copy. Hear you just fine.” The alien seemed exuberant to be a part of this mission.
I heard chuckles from the others, listening in on the open channel. “Hannig, I can see you through the portal window. Why don’t you let Lori take the controls? She’ll be piloting the ship after dropping you off on Level Five.”
Level Five was where Hannig had determined the Dominate’s communications center to be situated. With trepidation, I watched as the small craft elevated up off the deck and slowly spun around on its axis.
“Um, Bravo Leader? Request for a private channel from Alpha Leader.”
I smiled at hearing Lori’s voice. “Switch to channel 5, Alpha Leader,” I said.
A moment later, I heard Lori say quietly, her words almost a whisper, “Dommy?”
She’d never called me that before. It was a nickname only my close friends and family used. “What’s up, Lori?”
“We may not make it through this. Probably won’t make it through this . . .” Her words trailed off.
“I don’t know. Maybe not.”
“You don’t remember meeting me, do you, Dommy? Before, back when we were in our teens?”
Actually, I did—I thought about that moment again, seeing her with her father, how she didn’t even look at me. “Well, I . . . um, so what’s this about, Lori?”
“Oh God . . .” she said, as if willing herself to further speak. “Look, we’re going to fucking die anyway, right? I just wanted to say—well, I heard your wife say that you two were done.”
Guardian Ship Page 17
