Indian Hill 4: From The Ashes

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Indian Hill 4: From The Ashes Page 3

by Mark Tufo


  “I know.”

  “And what do you propose I do about it?”

  “I think the safest course of action would be for you to kill them both.”

  He said it so dryly and matter of fact, he wasn’t kidding. Dee was learning about human humor but this, unfortunately, wasn’t one of those moments.

  “I don’t think that’s going to work out so well, Dee. Besides him being one of my best friends, I think there would be more than a few pissed off people if I killed Mr. and Mrs. Planet.”

  “Then you had best be careful.” He stepped past me and up the dais.

  “Well, you’re about as helpful as legs on a fish,” I said as I followed him.

  “Hey Mike! Good to see you!” Paul said as he vigorously shook my hand. He was all smiles and sure seemed sincere enough.

  I almost choked when I looked up to see Dee drag a large claw across the front of his neck. Was the alien fucking with me?

  “Good to see you as well,” I told Paul as he pulled me in close and gave me a hug.

  “Michael,” Beth said, extending her hand for me to take. She really was working the Jackie Kennedy angle. I had to admit she looked good, but a broom shoved up her ass couldn’t have made her stand any more ramrod straight. I was pretty sure we were on a live feed right now and that Tracy would be seething just watching me hold Beth’s hand. I debated turning to the cameras and mouthing ‘I love you’ but odds were that would only make it worse. As much as Dee understood humans, especially women, I was in direct contrast in the knowledge department.

  She held my hand two heartbeats longer than was socially acceptable. Out of the corner of my eye I was able to see Paul as he gazed over, the photo-op face he had been portraying faltering for a moment. As I quickly pulled away, Beth laughed.

  Crazy ass bitch was what I thought. She was playing a dangerous game with some very dangerous people.

  “Ahh, they’re here. Almost time to go,” Paul said merrily enough.

  I watched as another convoy pulled up and was happy to see Tantor and Urlack as they got out of their respective rides. My stomach soured, though, like it knew something my brain didn’t. Then it dawned on me. Some of the most prominent and influential humans and aliens alike would all be together on one shuttle ship. If anything were to happen, the world would fall even deeper into chaos. Could this have possibly been what Tracy dreamed of? I wished now that I’d spent a moment more and asked. I generally didn’t believe in prophetic dreams but one can never be too careful.

  “Paul.”

  “In public, you will refer to me as General. Is that understood, Colonel?” Paul replied frostily.

  “Well, it is now.” I wanted to tell him not to get his shorts all in a bunch that I remember when we were tripping in college and he was looking in the bathroom mirror making monkey noises while he brushed his teeth. Although thinking about that now, I’m pretty sure I would have ended up at the wrong end of a firing squad for that. “Um, General?”

  “Yes?” He softened his shoulders, sagging a bit. Maybe he was remembering a better time or he realized I had an excessive amount of dirt on him.

  “Is this wise to have all of us together like this?”

  Paul looked around. “Absolutely. I think it’s the perfect time. The Progerians are being their normal asshole selves, the Genogerians garner hatred just for existing, and most of the planet is having great difficulty figuring out where their next meal is going to come from. We are on the brink of a war, even our most optimistic models don’t think we can win, and I miss all that I’ve...we’ve lost. We finally have a sufficient number of fighters rolling off of our assembly lines to restock the Guardian bays and I’m going to celebrate that fact. I want to show the world that they were right to have faith in me, that I...we can somehow pull off the impossible.”

  “My concern, Paul, er General, is that if anything were to happen to this group, the world would be leaderless.”

  “Your concern is unfounded. We go up to spend the day touring, shaking hands, sending live feeds down to a populace hungry for some good news, and tonight we dine at our respective homes.”

  “Sounds good when you say it like that,” I told him.

  “I’m...I’m sorry for earlier.”

  “Don’t worry about it; we’re all under a bit of stress.” I clapped him on the shoulder and stood behind him as camera flashes popped off; it was like the 4th of friggen July. Reminded me a little of the battle on the scout ship with all the flashing.

  “I can hear you sighing back there, Mike,” Paul said in between waves. “It’ll be alright, man. This’ll be over soon.”

  It was twenty minutes later when we were finally in the shuttle and then all I could think of was how easy it would be for an RPG (rocket-propelled grenade) to take us out. I looked over to Urlack, who had become the emissary to the Progerians—although, in reality, that did not entail too much. They wanted less to do with him than with us. At least we were the true enemy. As a highly unlikely hybrid between the union of a Progerian and Genogerian he was considered an abomination in their world. Add to that fact, he had turned on their rule and was less of a being to them than we were which was difficult because they once used us as food.

  Paul was heading up to the cockpit when a crewmember came over and handed him a black object that was about the size of a brick. The shuttle hadn’t fired its engines yet so I was able to hear the man speak clearly enough.

  “The interrupter is ready, sir.”

  Paul looked around guiltily as if he had just been handed a cloaking device that would allow him to go into a women’s locker room undetected. At least that’s how I saw it. “This will do exactly as I asked?”

  The crewmember nodded. Well, that was curious. I was thinking about going up to ask him what it was, but he quickly stuffed the interrupter into his briefcase and retreated into the cockpit. I guess that was going to be a conversation we had later. It was obvious enough he did not want to share the knowledge.

  I pretty much forgot about the thing the moment we took off. My last thought of it was if it was a cloaking device, then I wanted in. I immediately went back to my original train of thought. I was unsure what was going to happen to the Progerians because they abhorred contact with us. They could have Florida for all I was concerned, but did anyone truly want an aggressive, deadly, smart species roaming around unchecked? If I thought the coming attack force would at some point admit defeat, then part of the armistice terms would involve them taking the Progs back with them. Urlack had a heavy look about him. I knew he was wrestling his own demons; he was an alien divided, his foot in two worlds but belonging to neither. The Genogerians were wary of him because of his Progerian half. We’d talked before and I knew he felt that freeing the Genogerians and stopping the wholesale slaughter of humans was the right thing to do. I had thanked him for that. But, being considered a traitor to all those you worked for and fought beside was no easy feat. Now they would always believe that his heritage had weakened him somehow. I tried desperately to let him know that it had done the opposite by strengthening him enough to make a stand. I don’t know if it helped any but he thanked me for it.

  Tantor, easily my second favorite alien, sat directly across from me. I liked Urlack but he just tended to brood too much. I didn’t need anyone, especially an alien, mellowing my high so to speak. Tantor was very influential among the Genogerian populace, even amidst the chaos in their settlement. The Genogerians were hesitant to accept any kind of rule even from their own kind. It was leading to a Wild West type mentality out there. Eventually something was going to need to be done there as well. Even without much weaponry, the Genos could do a serious amount of damage before a big enough military response could be garnered to deal with them.

  “You look tired, Tantor,” I said.

  He growled at me. “If I knew fighting alongside you, Michael, would mean I would become a custodian of my people, I would have just eaten you.”

  Dee laughed. “He speak
s the truth.”

  “That’s funny to you?”

  Dee turned away from me but I could see his shoulders rising and falling.

  “Dealing with my people is a lot like your earth children. They run around wild, smashing all that they can and moving on,” Tantor replied.

  “They’ll learn,” I said hopefully. “They just won their independence and they don’t know what to do with it just yet. A lot of countries here, that have finally won their freedom from outside rule, take a while to adjust. They go through their own growing pains.”

  “Perhaps you should come and speak.”

  “I’ll think about it.” I lied, I wasn’t going anywhere near them. Shit, if Tantor wanted to eat me and we were friends, well, the rest goes unsaid.

  “Bring Tabasco,” Dee blurted out.

  Tantor gave him a confused look. Just because Dee was becoming adept at humor didn’t mean the rest of his species were as well.

  “He fears being eaten,” Dee explained. “Tabasco is a spicy flavoring that would give taste to something that would most likely taste as bad as Michael on the palate.”

  Tantor paused for a moment longer, then his mouth opened wide and a loud hiss issued forth. Apparently, he thought it was hilarious as well.

  “I’d kick both of your asses if I could reach,” I pouted.

  Paul poked his head out from the cockpit. “Almost there.”

  I was glad he’d taken Beth up there with him. It was bad enough I had Genogerians laughing at me; I didn’t need her glaring (leering) on top of it. My heart skipped a handful of beats as the massive ship came into view on our starboard side. Okay, who am I shitting, I have absolutely no idea which is starboard and which is port. I just figured it made me sound like I knew what the hell I was talking about. Although, by the time Travis reads my journals he’ll know better. Let’s just say I could see it out the window I was looking through.

  I fucking hated going on that ship. My palms were sweating, my heartbeat increased, I felt a sense of vertigo. It could be one hell of a panic attack if I let the reins go. So much death and cruelty had bled onto those decks. I still mourned for a good portion of those people. And, I was convinced Durgan’s ghost still roamed the bulkheads seeking revenge for his final loss, unable to come to grips with it even in death. The shuttle thudded down, the artificial gravity pulling on my limbs. But it was more than that, which weighed heavily on me. This ship had fundamentally altered my being and I struggled with anxiety just thinking about it. I’d thought about seeing a therapist for what I figured was a heavy dose of Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, but I knew the fragility upon which my reputation and perceived power lay. If anyone smelled weakness, I’m sure it would be exploited to its full extent and I could never let Paul down when he needed me the most.

  It was the quiet times when I reflected the most, when I saw Stephanie die or any one of the men who had stepped into the ring with me. I could feel my arms shiver as I thrust a spear or sliced with a sword meeting friction when I hit bone. Even the vast myriad of life threatening injuries I had received would come rushing back in to fill the gaps of my ‘quiet’ time. Travis was a blessing in more ways than one because he gave me a reason not to sleep. There were times I would wake him up just so I wouldn’t be alone. Sorry Travis, but just remember you were probably going to wake me up soon anyway. You sleep so little that I sometimes in my darker thoughts wonder if it’s because you know the end is near and you want to enjoy as much of life as possible.

  “You are coming?” Dee asked. It was then I noticed the shuttle was empty.

  I looked up with what I would imagine a state of confusion laced across my face.

  “Michael?” Dee asked, stepping back in.

  “Sorry, sorry,” I mumbled, shaking the cobwebs from my mind. I stood and followed him out. The main procession was nearly out of sight with the gaggle of reporters following. “At least I know my place,” I said sourly.

  “You have a mate at your dwelling that emits chemicals that lead her to believe she is in love with you and a child that adores you. You, Michael, have very little to feel sorry for.”

  “I sometimes wish you weren’t so adept at knowing our inner feelings.”

  “Humans are the equivalent of an open book, as you put it. Your multitude of facial muscles and pheromones make it incredibly easy. How any of you lie so successfully is the true mystery.”

  “Don’t ever let Tracy know that it is merely a mixture of chemicals within her brain that makes her think she loves me because she’ll find some medication to rid her of the condition.”

  Dee looked at me for a second. “That is the Talbot I know.” I nearly went sprawling from the hit to my shoulder.

  As we meandered our way to the bridge, Paul had already started his speech in regards to the rebuilding efforts. Beth gave me a look that could have cut glass when we walked in late. Iserwan was there as well, looking mighty uncomfortable with all the cameras pointing his way. He was probably afraid that the Progerians would somehow get a hold of a television and witness his treachery firsthand.

  “Mike, Mike, nice of you to join us, come on up here!” Paul was waving enthusiastically.

  I had been just about to sit down. “Wonderful,” I muttered.

  “Have fun.” Dee was smiling.

  “Kiss my ass, Godzilla.”

  I was halfway up when an alarm blurted off to my left. It wasn’t like the one that rang through the entire ship during the takeover, but more like an alarm clock at 6:30 a.m. on a Monday morning, so yeah, still pretty fucking irritating.

  I found it humorous when the man monitoring the ship said “Sir” and half the room turned towards him. His next words, however, contained nothing to laugh about. “There is an imminent displacement.”

  Iserwan was, for all intents and purposes the interim supreme commander, although we were just calling him Commander to avoid any negative connotations. But that’s beside the point. I think if he were capable of paling he would have done so.

  It was a reporter that asked the next question. “What does that mean?”

  “Battle stations!” Iserwan yelled.

  The lights changed from white to red.

  “Launch all fighters,” was Iserwan’s next command.

  “Is this part of the tour? Let us get a feel for the power of this ship? Because I’ve got to tell you it’s working,” another reporter said.

  I saw Paul look over towards Iserwan, maybe wondering the same thing.

  “Clear the bridge,” Iserwan stated.

  Two Marines stepped forward. It was Sergeant Stone that requested that all non-essential personnel please move towards the exit.

  “I’m going to say that this is not a drill,” I said as I began shoving the slower moving reporters. I was planning on following them.

  “Where you going?” Paul asked.

  “What the hell am I going to do in here? I don’t know how to fly this thing.”

  “You’re going to be my moral support.”

  Iserwan was sitting in the Commander’s chair staring straight ahead, waiting to hear the next news.

  “Imminent displacement?” I whispered to Dee.

  “It is the signature an incoming ship displays as it moves through space.”

  “Any chance it’s a shuttle?”

  “Shuttles do not have the capability to buckle.”

  Buckling was how the Progerians traveled over vast distances in space before their crews died of old age. It had something to do with folding space and traveling over the crease before space had a chance to unfold. Like I said, I have no clue how this was achieved. I basically like shiny shit and blowing stuff up.

  “How are they detecting this and how much time do we have?”

  “Like an Earth ship that pushes through water and leaves a wake it is much the same in space.”

  “A space wave? Can you surf it? Sorry,” I added when Dee looked at me crossly like a father might to a wayward son. “I’m nervous.”
<
br />   “As the ship is coming out of the buckle and space is redefining itself it creates a disturbance that the sensors on board can detect. As to the second part of your question, seventy-two minutes, twelve seconds.”

  “Umm, that’s pretty precise.”

  “It is the same, it has always been the same. Of course we have used different forms of time measurement but that is what it is in human time. We actually call it two partians.”

  “So two partians comes out to seventy-two minutes and twelve seconds.”

  “And four hundred thirty-six milliseconds but I did not think you would care about that.”

  “Are you kidding me? Four hundred thirty-six milliseconds could mean the difference between life and death.”

  It didn’t take Dee long, not long at all. “Sarcasm?”

  “Nailed me. So mostly likely this is a...”

  “Battle Cruiser,” he finished.

  “What do you figure are our chances?”

  “Without you onboard, I would say one in three. With you here it has to be fifty percent.”

  “Dee, that makes absolutely no sense. I have no authority on this ship and I certainly can’t fly it or a fighter for that matter.”

  “Does not matter, Michael. You will somehow find a way to change the tide of the battle.”

  “I wish I had as much faith as you.”

  “So do I Michael. Do you wish to pray?”

  I truly was going to tell him that I didn’t think now was the time. I was still unsure of my belief system and then it pretty much came down to ‘screw it’—what did I have to lose? We got away from the hustle and bustle of a bridge preparing for war and found us a quiet piece of bulkhead. Dee and I got down on our knees. We both prayed, me to God and Dee to Gropytheon. (Odds were they were one in the same…is that sacrilegious?) I honestly don’t know if either heard but I have to admit I felt better for it.

  “Five minutes,” the radar operator stated.

  Five minutes? We must have had a whole Mass over in that corner. We all had our eyes trained on the large viewing screen; the thing was as huge as a screen at any football stadium and it was full of fighters. I was wondering how anything could survive what they were about to unleash.

 

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