Alien Game

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by Rod Walker


  “I’m just glad we got most of our people into the air,” said Mr. Royale.

  “Yeah,” said Tanner. “Those creatures will kill anything they find.”

  “How many tromosaurs are out there?” said Argent.

  “Unknown,” said Charles. “I have counted a minimum of five hundred so far. Given that they have no fear of humans, and they metabolize human flesh quite easily, I suspect we may have lured as many as a thousand of them into Outpost Town.”

  “A thousand?” said Mulger. His eyes were a little wild. “Can they get in here?”

  “Quite possibly,” said Charles. “We shall have to remain vigilant.”

  “Yeah,” said Thompkins. “The system says all the doors leading in here are locked, but I’m going to go check them personally just in case.”

  He ran doors leading to the office wings and the server rooms as another dozen tromosaurs ran past the transparent main doors. Some of them disappeared from sight as they slipped into stealth mode, while others glared at us through the transparent metal, their eyes like sulfurous jewels.

  “Colonel,” said Tanner. “You’d better warn your men before they land.”

  “I warned them about the possibility. They know they’re heading into a dangerous situation,” said Argent. “And they have power armor.”

  “A warning is not sufficient preparation to hunt tromosaurs effectively,” said Charles. “Especially in these numbers.”

  Argent scowled. “Then what do you suggest, Mr. Charles?”

  “Hey, wait,” I said. “Your ship’s a gunship, right? What kind of guns does it have?”

  Argent and Tanner shared a look.

  “It’s a standard Security Ministry gunship,” said Argent. “Technically classified as a corvette. It’s equipped with ship-to-ship missiles, plasma cannons, and rail guns.”

  “That kind of weaponry used in Outpost Town,” said Tanner, “might wind up leveling Outpost Town. We’d kill all the tromosaurs, sure, but no one else would survive.”

  “What if the tromosaurs were all in one place?” I said.

  “That would work,” said Argent. “Mathey is atmosphere-capable. If the creatures are in a relatively confined space, the plasma cannons could wipe out a lot of them with minimal damage to the rest of Outpost Town.”

  “Minimal damage?” said Mr. Royale.

  Argent shrugged. “We might burn down a building or two. But nothing too serious. The gunners on the ship know their job. We came here to arrest Valier, not to cause civilian casualties.”

  “Great,” said Tanner. “But how are we going to get the tromosaurs into one place?”

  “Their hunting cry,” I said, digging out the thick tablet once more. “That’s how we got them all into Outpost Town in the first place.”

  “We don’t have a PA system loud enough to draw them to one place,” said Tanner.

  “The quadcopters,” said Charles.

  We all looked at him, and Charles shrugged.

  “Both our quads and those belonging to EcoMin are equipped with external speaker systems,” said Charles. “We could use them to broadcast the hunting call loud enough to lure the tromosaurs after the vehicle in relative safety.”

  “We get them all to gather,” said Tanner, “and the gunship blasts them from above.”

  “Yes,” said Charles.

  “Great,” said Argent. “But where is the nearest quad?”

  “Let me see,” said Tanner. He jogged over to the receptionist’s desk, sat down with a grunt, and unlocked the computer. A moment later he had logged into the remote access for the security cameras, cycling through the blue-tinted images with practiced speed.

  “There,” he said, pointing at the screen. “Hangar Three, at the other end of the main administrative street. We still have a quadcopter there. Doesn’t look damaged.”

  “Getting there will be hard,” I said. “That’s nearly a kilometer of open street from here to Hangar Three. If we try to take it on foot, the tromosaurs will run us down.”

  “A jeep,” said Charles. “There still should be some in the garage here.”

  “Yeah,” said Tanner, the display on the screen changing to the garage. “A couple of the electric jeeps are still there. We can take one to Hangar Three, get the quadcopter into the air, and lure the tromosaurs into the Security Ministry’s guns.”

  “All right,” said Argent. “I’ll call Captain Butler and warn him not to land anyone, and to stand by for further orders once they’re over the town. Mulger, you’ll go with Tanner and Charles. You’re the only one here who knows how to fly a quadcopter.”

  “I crashed the last two quadcopters I flew,” protested Mulger.

  “Third time’s the charm,” said Argent.

  “I’ll go with them, too,” I said. The others all looked at me, and I tapped the thick tablet I had used to control the cleaning drones. “I’ve got all the tromosaurs’ calls on here. I can plug this into the quadcopter’s computer and take over its PA system.” I shrugged. “That, and another gun can’t hurt.”

  “No, it can’t,” said Tanner. “All right. Sam, Charles, and Mulger, you’re with me. Argent, Ian, you’re in charge here. Once we’re in the air, we’ll call you, and we’ll coordinate with the gunship.”

  “Good luck, all of you,” said Mr. Royale. He smiled a little. “I admit this wasn’t what I had in mind when I hired you, Sam.”

  “Well,” I said. “It’s not like you actually pay me.”

  “I may have to reconsider that.”

  “Let’s move,” said Tanner.

  We left the lobby, sealing the door behind us, and jogged through the hallways of the administrative building. Charles stopped at a security station to retrieve more weapons and supplies, and we hurried the rest of the way to the garage. A few of the four-seater electric jeeps were still in place, which was good, but the garage doors were open, which was bad. I had feared that some of the tromosaurs might have gotten into the garage, and two of them prowled across the oil-stained concrete, their heads snapping around to face us as we entered the garage.

  In unison both tromosaurs charged at us, and in unison all four of us raised our weapons and fired. We took down the tromosaurs with a volley of concentrated fire, bullets ripping through their skulls and chests, and both animals fell to the floor, but not before they both let out ear-splitting shrieks.

  “Think the others heard that?” said Tanner.

  “Almost certainly,” said Charles with perfect calm, reloading his Avenger. “That was the alarm cry. The nearest beasts will soon be converging on our location to assess the threat and neutralize it.”

  “Sonic alarms?” I said.

  “The tromosaurs will not be able to hear them over the engine noise,” said Charles.

  Tanner said several bad words. “Run!”

  We hurried to the nearest jeep and threw ourselves into the vehicle. Tanner dropped into the driver’s seat, while Mulger and Charles took the back seat. I braced my gun on the side of the vehicle, hoping to use it to stabilize my aim.

  “Right,” said Tanner, starting the engine. Electric motors normally did not make a lot of noise, but the engine in the tough little jeep was powerful enough to give off a loud hum. I found hard to believe it could block our sonic alarms, but it was best to assume that it would. “Mulger, watch the right, Charles, you cover the left and back. Sam, shoot anything coming at us and try to keep our path clear.”

  “The top-rated speed of this vehicle is fifty miles an hour,” said Charles. “Tromosaurs can exceed that in short bursts.”

  “Then you had better shoot them before they get to us,” said Tanner. He slammed on the accelerator, and the jeep hurtled backward. He spun the wheel, the tires squealing against the concrete, and the jeep slewed around to point at the open garage doors.

  The air outside the garage doors was rippling with the effect of the tromosaurs’ stealth ability.

  “Tanner!” I said.

  “Hang on!” Tanner said,
and he slammed on the accelerator.

  The jeep howled forward. After you’ve traveled on interstellar starships and flown in hunting quadcopters, fifty miles an hour shouldn’t seem that fast. But when you’re in a garage driving at a group of hunting tromosaurs, fifty miles an hour feels completely out of control. I swung my Avenger around and started shooting, and I think I must have hit one of the tromosaurs, because it dropped its stealth and came at us, screeching, and Charles shot it through the head.

  We slammed into the charging tromosaurs, and the jeep bucked as if the engine had exploded. Once of the tromosaurs became visible, screeching in outrage, and it hit the hood, bounced off the windshield, flipped over our heads, and landed behind the jeep. I don’t think the impact killed it because at once it started to climb to its feet. Fortunately, the jeep had been built to survive the harsh environment of Arborea, and while the tromosaur dented the fender, it hadn’t damaged the engine. I managed to shoot another tromosaur as we sped past, and then Tanner spun the wheel again, the tires screaming, and the jeep rocketed down the street behind the administrative building, heading for Hangar Three.

  “Where did you learn to drive?” I said, twisting around to look back at the administrative building. We had broken free of the tromosaur pack, and I saw a dozen of the predators standing in front of the garage, all of them running after us. They weren’t running at their full speed, which meant that they hadn’t yet decided if they were going to chase us or not. If they did, they might run us down in short order. We were putting distance between us, but not as much as I would like.

  “Wilson City!” shouted Tanner over the roar of the wind. “I failed the test three times.”

  “What?” I said.

  Mulger and Charles had rotated around in their seats to watch the tromosaurs.

  “Maybe it was four times,” said Tanner.

  I started to protest again, and then the tromosaurs vanished into ripples as their hides began the biochemical stealth reaction that they used to vanish.

  “Aw, man,” I said, and I raised my Avenger, sighting along the side of the jeep so I wouldn’t hit Charles or Mulger, and I started shooting. Because of the of stealth ability, I wasn’t sure if I was actually hitting anything or not.

  Nonetheless, the blurs were getting closer.

  Charles raised a black tube, and I recognized the rocket launcher he had used earlier.

  “You were able to reload that thing?” I said.

  “Yes,” announced Charles, and he squeezed the trigger. The launcher vomited out a plume of white smoke, soon left behind with our speed, and the rocket slammed into the blurs, erupting in a ball of fire. Five tromosaurs snapped back into view, two of them on fire, and three of them hurtling through the air from the blast of the explosion. The rest of the tromosaurs slowed, and Mulger and I kept shooting, hoping to keep the tromosaurs at bay.

  It worked. The tromosaurs slowed long enough for Tanner’s reckless driving to cover the rest of the distance, and soon I saw the sturdy gray mass of Hangar Three come into sight. I also spotted several other tromosaurs wandering around outside, and Charles, Mulger, and I started shooting. We managed to account for five between the three of us, but the rest of them began to home in on us.

  Tanner drove into the hangar at full speed, slammed on the brakes, and spun the wheel around. We skidded to a halt next to one of the remaining quadcopters, the tromosaurs racing into the hangar after us.

  “Sonic alarms!” barked Charles, and we activated our sonic alarms. The incoming tromosaurs slowed as their instincts assessed the new threat, but they did not slow for long. Tanner hammered at the door control, entering a code, and the quadcopter’s passenger door swung open.

  We scrambled inside just as the tromosaurs overcame their indecision and attacked. Charles and I covered the door, sending out bursts of fire, while Tanner slapped at the door control and Mulger scrambled into the pilot’s cabin.

  “Think they can get in here?” I said.

  “Given enough time, they can get inside almost any structure,” said Charles.

  As if to confirm his words, I heard a clang, and a large dent appeared in the door.

  “Get up here and strap in!” said Mulger. “This is going to be the shortest and sloppiest preflight check in the history of aviation, but we are taking off.”

  We scrambled into the pilot cabin. I dropped into the copilot’s seat and started helping Mulger with the preflight check as fast as I could. I wanted to simply take off, but this model of quadcopter refused to fly until at least the minimum preflight check had been completed. I had excellent motivation to hurry because I saw a dozen tromosaurs through the windows in the pilot cabin. The windows were made of transparent metal alloy, but I wouldn’t put it past the tromosaurs to punch through them, or to simply knock the panes out of the frames.

  “Fuel pumps three and four?” said Mulger.

  “Ready,” I said, watching the indicators go from red to green.

  At that moment one of the tromosaurs jumped forward and slammed into the canopy two feet from my face. I felt the shudder through the deck from the animal’s impact and heard the squeal of its claws as they ground into the transparent metal. The canopy held, but the tromosaur had left a row of bright scratches in the metal. One tromosaur would not have been able to break inside, but if they decided to attack in a systematic way, we were done.

  “Better hurry,” said Tanner.

  “Hurrying,” barked Mulger, and he slapped a row of switches.

  The quadcopter shuddered as the engines and the fuel pumps came to life. A message flashed across the main display, informing us that the manufacturer did not approve of the expedited preflight checklist and that we had just voided the warranty by doing so. Mulger gripped the throttles, and the quadcopter jerked forward as the rotors spun up, lifting the craft a few yards into the air. The tromosaurs backed away, alarmed by the sudden sound, and Mulger sent the quadcopter gliding forward.

  The tromosaurs were mostly out of the way, but one, more curious or stupid than the others, got in the way. We hit it dead center of the canopy, where it clung there for a moment, suspended like an oversized insect with its arms and legs outstretched. Mulger cursed and revved the engine, and we flew out of the hangar, missing the top of the door by a few feet, and into the open air over Outpost Town. The tromosaur on the canopy held on for a few seconds longer, lost its grip, and fell to the ground below.

  I looked down. Even the fall didn’t kill the monster. It merely regained its footing, shook itself, and went off in search of easier prey.

  “Sam, call Argent,” said Tanner.

  “Right,” I said. I tapped my earpiece, linked it to the quadcopter’s transmitters and computer, and called for Argent. “Colonel?”

  “Here,” came Argent’s voice. “Status?”

  “We’re in the air,” I said. I tapped a few commands on the control board to send Argent’s voice through the quadcopter’s speakers. “We had to outrun a few tromosaurs to do it, but we’ve got a quadcopter.”

  “Good,” said Argent. “I’m coordinating with the ship. They’re coming in over the water from the west. You should be able to see them now at about ninety degrees, I think.”

  I twisted around to look in the direction of the ocean, and I did indeed see the distant shape of the Security Ministry gunship. It looked a bit like a stylized black dagger, dark from stealth armor, and it seemed to get bigger even as I looked. It was coming in fast.

  “You have visuals on any of the tromosaurs?” said Tanner.

  “Looks like there’s a big group still outside the administrative building,” said Mr. Royale. “Probably another group around the convention hall.”

  “I’ve got an idea,” I said. “Why don’t we fly over the convention hall first and play their hunting cry? Then we can lure the tromosaurs there after us, fly to the administrative building, and then lead the whole bunch of them out into the empty fields. Then the gunship can vaporize them without blowing u
p Outpost Town.”

  There was silence for a moment.

  “Sounds good to me, Hammond,” said Argent. “All right. Mulger, broadcast your ID, let the gunship know where you are.”

  “Yes, sir,” said Mulger, flipping switches on the communications panel. “Heading for the convention hall. Hammond, you’d better get that call ready.”

  “Right,” I said, digging the chunky tablet from my belt. The quadcopter banked over Outpost Town, heading for the convention hall, and I linked the tablet to the quadcopter’s computer. A moment later I brought up the tromosaurs’ hunting call, feeding it into the quadcopter’s PA system. “Ready.”

  “Here we go,” said Mulger, turning the quadcopter over the convention hall. The convention hall had twelve sets of fancy transparent-metal doors, and in front of those doors were hundreds of tromosaurs, all of them hammering to get inside. The sight of one tromosaur was frightening. The sight of such a massive pack of them was terrifying.

  Man, I was glad I was high above them in the quadcopter!

  “All right, Sam,” said Tanner. “Let’s invite them on a hunt, shall we?”

  “Right,” I said and tapped the command on the tablet.

  Even inside the quadcopter, even through the roar of the rotors, I heard the hunting cry bellow from the craft’s speakers.

  “Loud,” muttered Mulger. “But is it loud enough?”

  As one, every single tromosaur outside the convention hall lifted its head to look at us.

  Now that was a sight to test the spine of the bravest man.

  “Mulger,” said Tanner. “Let’s take them for a walk.”

  Mulger swooped the quadcopter low, just low enough to stay out of reach of the tromosaurs’ leaps, and flew over the street towards the administrative building. The tromosaurs ran after us, hundreds of them, and more of the creatures boiled from the alleys between the buildings. We flew over the mob of tromosaurs outside the administrative building, and they looked skyward, joining the mass of predators as they surged after us.

  Then we were outside of Outpost Town, flying over the cleared fields towards the jungle.

 

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