“Stephen, come here,” Michael beckoned as he walked.
Stephen was obliged to comply. “What is it?” he asked.
“Obviously, this vessel was shot by something from above. I mean, look at the way the explosion occurred. Something shot through the top of the ship and then blew up inside it. Whatever these beings are that we’re dealing with, they must have massive weapon technology. Why do they use spears to kill then?”
Stephen shrugged. “Maybe they have a taste for simpler things.”
At this, Michael began grumbling loudly.
“Or maybe there’s something else here too. Different from them,” Stephen added.
“I’m getting tired of this guessing game,” Michael announced. “We need answers.”
Another explosion echoed through the bowels of the destroyed ship and Michael clenched his fingers into fists.
As Stephen looked away from the perturbed Commander, he spotted something odd about the ship’s belly that he had not noticed before. Then, a realization came to him.
“Sir,” he said. “I can tell you one thing that’s definite.”
Michael was annoyed. “What’s that?”
“This ship landed fine. It wasn’t shot down like us.” He pointed to the blackened struts covered with vines. “It landed without a problem, and was then shot from above sometime later…by something.”
Michael stared quietly at the towering landing gear for several moments without expression. All the men who had heard Stephen’s observation were watching their leader, waiting for a response. After another silent moment, Michael spat on the ground and looked up.
“What?” Stephen asked, sensing disapproval.
Michael looked directly at him with aggressive eyes. “You’re right,” he said.
Someone from behind them yelled, “Here they come!”
Stephen and Michael turned and began walking toward the hatchway with the other men not far behind. As they came close, they saw the two men standing at the opening with a briefcase-shaped, metallic box between them.
“We found it, sir,” one of them announced.
Michael turned the metal box over in his hands as they walked and examined a large, deep cut in its surface. He turned to Stephen who was marching right behind and said, “I hope this isn’t too damaged to decrypt. It’s all we’ve got to go on.”
Stephen nodded, but did not reply. He was not very interested in conversation at the moment. They were coming very close to the city now and he was anxious to be somewhere familiar. He was tired, and thirsty, and he knew there was much explaining to be done to the Governor when they returned.
Exhaustion, combined with fear and guilt over Mandel’s death, was beginning to overwhelm Stephen. But he just grunted, in much the same way Michael always did, and continued marching up the last hill. Stephen looked upward and saw an unmistakable landmark: looming high overhead was the familiar outcropping from where he had first seen the city.
IV - REBELLION AND GENOCIDE
1
Governor Hedrick sat at his desk with his head in his hands. Stephen could not tell if he was crying or not, but it was obvious he was grieving. The dank light in the office shone down on his gray head, and presented a kind of shadowy halo over him. He had turned down the normally bright light in the room when he saw the men coming towards the office with downhearted expressions. He slowly peered up from his hands. He looked at Michael and Stephen, and then behind them, to the ten other men standing in the doorway.
“Leave us, please,” Hedrick said to the crowd.
Dylan, the second-in-command, faced his fellow soldiers. “Let’s go,” he ordered.
As the search party turned to leave, Stephen turned around and began to leave as well.
“No, you stay,” the Governor said, with a pleading expression.
Dylan stopped for a moment. He decided it would be best not to look back, and then he left
Stephen nodded and came back to stand next to Michael. The other men were soon gone from the building, and Stephen and Michael stood in silence - neither one willing to move or say anything. They both felt uncomfortable seeing the symbol of their race, the Governor of the humans in such a vulnerable manner.
“I know it wasn’t your fault, lad,” he said to Stephen. “And I thank you, Michael for finding my son.”
Both men nodded humbly and then returned to their statuesque demeanor.
“Now please,” the Governor began, obviously shaken.
“What exactly happened?”
Michael and Stephen looked at each other, each one hoping the other would begin the explanation. Finally, Michael stepped forward and looked at the Governor.
“We found the other ship, sir,” he said. “The first Earth ship sent out before ours... the Alpha Journey.”
At this, the Governor sat forward, and his expression of sorrow shifted to a face of concern.
“She’s entirely destroyed,” Michael continued.
The Governor’s countenance fell again.
“We found your son in a valley nearby with hundreds of other…” Michael froze, choosing his words carefully, “…people, all killed in the same manner…with a spear. I think it’s a very reasonable conclusion that there’s another hostile race here on the planet with us now.”
Governor Hedrick sat back and began to chew on his fingernails as he contemplated what he was hearing. “Wait a minute,” he started. “What about the rest of the humans onboard? You say you found hundreds of bodies, but that ship should have been carrying at least fifteen-hundred people.”
Michael shook his head. “I have no idea. They may still be alive somewhere. The men I sent inside the ship didn’t report finding any bodies, but an explosion of that magnitude would have most likely disintegrated any…” Michael paused again, realizing that he had forgotten to use tact, “… anyone within. It’s just as possible that they were all staying inside the ship when it was destroyed.”
The Governor’s gaze was focused downward again, and he stopped biting his nails. “How exactly was the ship destroyed?” he asked.
Michael looked back to Stephen for the theoretical aspect of their debriefing.
“It looks like it was shot from above by some large-scale weapon,” Stephen said, as he stepped forward. “But its landing struts were down when we found it, so it must have landed safely before it was destroyed.” Stephen glanced at Michael. “A large opening in the top of the ship leads us to believe it was bombarded by something from above, and then it exploded on the inside.”
Hedrick nodded slowly in comprehension of the idea.
“We brought back the ship’s log-book also,” Stephen continued, pointing to the metal box that had been placed in front of the Governor’s desk. “It could give us some answers.”
This prompted Michael to cock his eyebrows and step back, allowing Stephen to take over the exposition.
“Take it to a man I have working in Section F,” the Governor said as he rose and walked over to a map of the city on the wall. He pointed to a specific building in the F grid. “Here. His name is Byron Kesh. He’s good at working with electronics and encryption and such. He’ll download the information for us.”
“Yes, sir,” both men replied simultaneously. It was obvious they did not want to stay any longer.
The Governor looked down and walked back to his desk. He switched off his computer console and turned to leave the room. “I’m finished working for the evening. I’ll address the people in the morning and fill them in on what’s happened. I thank you gentlemen for finding out this information. Michael, seal up the gates for tonight. And tomorrow, will you have some of your men escort people to the stream to gather water.”
“Sure,” Michael replied, beginning to feel pity towards the man. “Is there anything else I can do for you?”
Hedrick shook his head and walked past them. “No, this is something I must do myself.”
Stephen and Michael stood in silence as they watched the Governo
r walk out the door of his office and then head out into the street toward his apartment building. There, his worried wife sat waiting for word of her son.
The sun had been gone for almost an hour, and the moon was in another partial shine on that evening. Michael had gone off to perform his evening duty of closing down the city, and so Stephen volunteered to hand in the logbook himself.
Stephen walked into the apartment of Byron Kesh, a middle-aged man wearing bright-colored clothing.
“Come on in. Just ignore the mess,” Byron said, moving aside to allow Stephen to enter.
“Thank you,” Stephen said as he looked about the apartment. It was messy, but nothing that he felt disgust over. Cables and computer machinery parts were scattered about the floor along with clothes and fruit cores that had obviously not made it to Kesh’s wastebasket. Stephen actually felt comfortable knowing that not everyone in the city was as tidy and kept as the people he had encountered so far were. He then took note that there was no one else in apartment with the man.
“What can I do for you?” Byron asked as he closed the door.
“I’ve just come from the Governor. He told me I should take this log-book to you to have it decrypted.”
Byron furrowed his eyebrows. “Log-book?” he inquired.
“Yes,” Stephen began. “We found the remains of the Alpha Journey today.”
Byron’s mouth dropped open. “You’re kidding! You found the other people?”
Stephen shook his head. “They’re all…” he waited a moment before continuing, debating on whether or not to tell Byron all the facts or just to let him hear the Governor’s address in the morning. “We didn’t find anyone alive,” he concluded. “It’s a very long story that the Governor is going to go over in a formal address tomorrow.”
Then, horrific images of Mandel’s slaughtered body returned in Stephen’s mind, and he grimaced slightly. “I’d really rather not talk about it now, if that’s okay.”
“Sure.” Byron shrugged - obviously disappointed that he was going to have to wait to find out what happened.
“Thanks,” Stephen said. He handed the box to Byron, who eyed it curiously. “There’s some damage to it that may cause problems,” he continued. “The Governor said you were the best person to work on it.”
Byron began nodding to himself as he examined the gash on the box’s tarnished surface. “Hmm…it may be a problem. Let me take a look at it on the computer first and then I can tell you whether or not the information inside is readable.”
“Okay,” Stephen said.
Byron walked over to his desk, one that had been brought over from the crashed ship, and connected a cable to his already running computer. He then worked a series of switches on the console, as well as on the side of the box, and plugged the other end of the cable into the logbook.
“This’ll take a minute, if you want to have a seat or something.”
Stephen shrugged, not knowing where a spot clean enough to sit on would be. “Nah,” Stephen replied and began walking over to Byron’s desk. He looked at Kesh’s computer screen and saw symbols and characters that were only gibberish to him. He did not even attempt to act as if he understood what he was seeing.
Byron leaned back and sighed, waiting for his computer to compile a readout. Then, suddenly, the screen flashed once, and a new series of symbols and numbers appeared, at which Byron grumbled loudly.
“It’s going to take at least a day or two for the computer to restructure the damaged information pockets,” Byron said. “Maybe even more. I’ll keep working on it though. I’ll let the Governor know as soon as it’s finished.”
Stephen nodded. “Okay then, thanks for your help. I’ll see you around.”
Byron stood as Stephen began to leave. “No problem. Hey, by the way, can you tell me something else?”
“Sure,” Stephen said.
“Did they find the Governor’s son?”
Stephen breathed deeply and looked at the ground. “Yeah…he’s dead.”
“Oh, no,” Byron said, genuinely disheartened. “Poor kid, I wonder what killed him.”
“Me too…” Stephen said. He turned and walked out the door.
All was dark around the enormous Beta Journey. The humans’ transport still sat in its crashed position - nestled softly in the valley by the ocean, where it rested forevermore. A strong night wind whipped at the wreckage and the forest facing it, resulting in a harsh rustle from the leaves and an echoing howl as it flowed throughout the open corridors of the ship.
In the woods by the crash-site, a pair of large, unblinking eyes watched the wreckage with silent, motionless patience. It watched the tiny glow of the skeleton crew’s lanterns in the distant, and now shattered, windows. It held a contempt for them: a contempt that was not provoked by any wrongdoings or evil deeds, but rather their mere presence. The humans were not welcomed, nor would they ever be by the current occupants of the planet. However, they had nevertheless come, surviving the first attempt at their destruction while still in orbit, and making themselves a home in the city whose history they did not yet realize or give enough concern to.
No muscles twitched in the creature’s gnarled, hunched over body, and its bulging eyes apparently had no protective lids, for they never blinked. The same creature that had, only the previous day, come upon two young men by the stream now turned and walked back into the woods. It made no utterance as it did. Only the sound of the beast’s long, lumbering strides in the fallen leaves foretold of its approach.
The wind became suddenly harsher and warmer, and a low resonance began to vibrate the entire ship.
“Simon! Simon, do you feel that?” Art asked worriedly as he ran out onto the control tower’s catwalk. There, his friend was leaning against the rails, looking along the edges of the ship’s base so far below.
“Yeah,” Simon Carlisse said as he continued to scan. “But I don’t know where it’s coming from.”
Art stood beside him and began to search in the opposite direction along the foundation. As the two searched in confusion, the darkness of the night began to lighten with a red tint. The wind became suddenly hotter and more pointed, and they knew where it was coming from. Slowly, they both looked to the sky. Art stepped back, tripping over the door ledge, and fell back inside the control room. Simon clenched the rails and closed his eyes.
The nighttime sky turned into unnatural, red daylight for an instant, as a beam of energy shot down from the heavens and seared through the top of the ship’s hull. Immediately, all windows within the vessel and all corridors leading to its exterior were lit up in a spectacular flash of white, just as the bowels of the ship exploded outward, flinging pieces of metal debris into the surrounding forest. Although much of the interior structure had already been destroyed, the sturdy outer shell of the vessel remained standing, as a shadowy apparition of what had been the human’s source of life for so many generations.
Then, a rumble, dull and droning like the passing of thunder, rose steadily louder and higher in pitch as the openings of the ship now began to glow a bright orange from a second explosion. In moments, the unstoppable thriving flames of an aftershock fireball had reached the outside of the ship, creating a blanket of fire that consumed the vessel like a ravenous scavenger on a carcass.
Several hours later, when the sun finally peered over the horizon, all that remained of the titanic vessel was a smoldering shell. The wreckage coughed out billows of black smoke from the viral flames still churning within it.
2
Sweat dripped off of Stephen’s face as he sat up straight in his bed. He tried to calm his rapid breathing as he clenched his damp sheets. The nightmare had been interrupted just before the unthinkable could happen, and for that he thanked God silently. But he then realized why he had been awakened from the horror. The pounding on his door came again. It was not merely a knock. It was a frantic pounding, and with it, Stephen recognized Michael’s familiar voice.
“Stephen, get up!” he
yelled. “Something’s wrong.”
At this, Stephen quickly threw his sheets aside and ran to the door. Rising quickly caused a sudden, throbbing pain in his head wound, but he winced once and then shrugged it off. He opened the door to see Michael standing alone.
“We’ve lost contact with the ship,” Michael said plainly. “Come on. We need to see the Governor.”
Stephen tried hard to process what he was hearing, but he was still very much asleep. He only comprehended that something was wrong at the ship and that Michael wanted him along for some reason.
“Wait a second. Let me get some clothes on,” he answered sleepily.
Michael turned to run down the hallway. “Hurry!” he yelled. “I’ll be waiting outside.”
Stephen sensed the urgency in Michael’s voice, and he darted back into his room, ignoring the pain in his head.
At the bottom of the stairs, Stephen looked out the front door of his apartment building and saw Michael standing outside along with several of the other military officers he had met the day before. They were all looking at something down the street.
When Stephen came to the doorway, he walked directly up to Michael and asked, “What’s happening?”
Michael turned around and then stepped aside so Stephen could see down the street.
From a balcony, several floors up in the city hall, the Governor was speaking to an assembly of all the townspeople, who had gathered together in the streets below. Stephen knew that he was informing them of what had happened the day before, and he then realized that he had slept quite late. He had not been awakened by the usual sunlight on his face because of the drearily overcast sky.
Michael looked at him. “We don’t have time to wait for the Governor’s speech to be over,” he said. “We need to leave now.”
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