by Kondor, Luke
“You fucking idiot,” Dr Warwick called from the open barn door. “You can’t even do it, can you? You’ve brought what was left of us out here to die.”
The door closed and Dr Warwick left as quickly as he’d arrived. Nisha smiled at Moomamu but it wasn’t a true smile. Moomamu could tell. It was one of those forced ones. Ones you give to humans you pity to try to make them feel better.
He smiled back.
Nisha Bhatia
Hours passed and the alien was still jumping up and down like a fool. Each time he moved a little bit, pretended to do calculations in his head, but it didn’t make any difference. Each of the others had popped in at some point or another to check on the progress but they quickly left when they saw the idiot jumping in the mud.
“Miss Bhatia, sorry, Neesh, have you got any water?” Darpal said. He was sitting on the floor next to her, tapping his hands against his legs, playing, trying to keep himself entertained.
“I don’t think so. Will you be okay?” she said.
“I’m not sure. I feel tired.”
“Tell you what, if you pop outside to see Dr Warwick I’m sure he might have some snacks or something.”
He looked apprehensive for a second, gave his legs a quick tap-tap, nodded his head and climbed to his feet. He touched Nisha’s face with his hand and then pottered out of the Pig-House, still tapping away as he went.
The idiot jumped again. The sound of his boots slapping against the mud was giving her a headache. He might’ve looked like a human, mostly, but there was no doubt he was an alien. His movements were odd, uncomfortable. An old man trying to drive a young man’s car. Too good for it, but still can’t quite work it out.
“Don’t feel bad,” she said.
He landed.
“Why would I feel bad?” Moomamu said.
“If you can’t do it. It’s not your fault. It’s mine.”
Moomamu wiped the build-up of sweat from his head and stopped to catch his breath. He looked over to Nisha, who got to her feet and walked over to him. The smell of the dirt and blood was strongest where the alien was.
“If the children … weren’t around, the cloud never would have found us. We’d be safe. It sounds fucking disgusting to even say it but, if I’d let the murderer do his job then …”
“Go on,” Moomamu said.
“If I’d let him do what he was intending to do, kill the children, we’d be fine. Saved. If I hadn’t killed him, billions of others would have lived.” She tried to keep her words steady but her heavy breathing and watering eyes betrayed her.
“Yes yes, I know, don’t worry, Luna told me all about it,” Moomamu said, shaking his head. “What’s happened has happened.”
“But I’d do it again,” she said as she reached into her coat pocket and pulled out a small clear plastic bottle. The vodka bottle. She unscrewed the lid and sniffed it. After all this time, since her baby died on delivery, she’d kept the bottle with her. It was strong. She recoiled. The alcohol stung her nostrils. Familiar. “I’d still kill the alien.”
Moomamu walked over to Nisha and took the bottle from her. He sniffed it. He didn’t say anything but he gave her the ‘bloody hell’ face.
“I lost a child two years ago. Still born. His name would have been James. No, his name was James. He may not have gotten to see his mother’s face, but he damn well deserved a name. And then I drank. It wasn’t long after that my … husband … well, it doesn’t matter. That bottle was a gift. To celebrate nine months of sobriety and the birth of our first child but … I never really had a reason to celebrate. So I’ve kept the bottle with me, waiting for right time. It’s been a few years now and I’m still waiting.
“So yes, I’d still doom the planet. I’d still kill the alien. I’d still save Darpal. Hell, if I could reverse time, I’d just save more of them. I couldn’t let the children die, no matter what, because if I did, regardless of what we saved in the process, I’d still be a killer, more than I already am, and that’s something I don’t want to be, Mr Moomamu. I don’t want to be a killer.”
Moomamu took a deep breath. He looked into her eyes and squinted. He sniffed from the bottle again. He was an odd-looking person. Potentially attractive at one point, but he looked tired. He looked like he needed care. The scars around his neck and face were enough to ruin his chances of a normal dating life. And the sweat gathering around his neckline. Not into that so much. She looked into his deep blue eyes and took a step forward.
“I’d still do it … I’d fucking well still do it!”
“Okay okay, don’t worry about it, it’s all fine and whatever,” he said raising his hand to stop her. As simple as throwing away the recycling, he tipped the bottle upside down, emptying the contents on the muddy floor and threw the bottle over his head into one of the pigsties. “But can you please be quiet? Please. I’m kind of trying to do something here.”
Dr Warwick
“The perimeter is secure, sir. We got EMPs lining the walls and we’re ready for any wandering bubbles. Anything more than that and we’re looking to be in some serious trouble,” Kevin said before saluting Dr Warwick.
“Kevin, you’re not in the army so you don’t have to salute me,” he replied as he looked to the skies. The skies were a shade darker than he would’ve liked. Even in the clearest skies you could still miss a bubble. You could miss many. They flew so high and spread themselves so thinly they could be floating right above your head, waiting to sense you.
Dr Warwick looked over to the other car. The cat and the Gajos woman. Both interesting specimens indeed. They were sitting in the car, keeping warm. What were they planning? The woman, Polish … it’s a shame. In a different world, in a different situation, perhaps he could have begun the courting process with her. Who knows?
“There’s a dark cluster in the east, sir,” Daniel, the younger brother, said. “Estimate that we have around three hours before we’re spotted.”
“Fine,” Dr Warwick said before sitting back down in the passenger seat of the open car. Mr Foster was in the back seat, lying down, staring at the car roof. “Just keep your eyes peeled, lads. I don’t want any surprises okay? At least, no surprises that I didn’t plan for.”
Up the gravel path Dr Warwick saw the little Darpal. He was half-skipping towards him. He threw a pebble against the floor.
“You still don’t want to talk to the aliens?” Dr Warwick said to Mr Foster, who responded with a loud snore. “Hey!”
“What? What?” Mr Foster woke and sat up. “Why are we still here? I thought the teleporter was going to change everything? If that’s how time travel works.”
“He can’t go back in time. He’s an idiot. Just like the rest of y— Oh, hello Darpal!” Dr Warwick beamed a smile. One he kept locked away and just for the children.
“Hello, Dr Warwick,” he said as he joined them. “I’m feeling a little tired, and Miss Bhatia said you might have some food or something.”
“Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear, Darpal. Let me tell you, you’re looking a little under the weather.”
“I am?” His little brown face looked back at the doctor with fresh concern.
“Yes indeed. I think you might be coming down with something. Why don’t you take a seat and we’ll have a look at you? Foster, shift your arse.”
Mr Foster grunted as he climbed out of the back seat and let Darpal sit down.
“Okie dokie, let’s have a look at our Darpal then.” Dr Warwick whipped out his penlight from his pocket, gave it a couple of clicks, on, off, on, off, and then on again, before crouching down by Darpal’s side and pointing the light to his eyes. Open-mouthed, he looked at the deep dark brown of his irises.
“Darpal, tell me, how do you feel about the cloud?”
“I don’t like it, sir. It’s evil.”
“Evil? I don’t know if I’d call it evil. Perhaps misunderstood. Perhaps a lack of communication is the problem.” Dr Warwick clicked off the light and then shone it back on the other eye. “I
feel like perhaps if we were to sit down and have a little chat, we might figure out this whole situation. Maybe come to an arrangement.”
“What are you doing?” Mr Foster said.
“Shut it, Foster! Now, Darpal, I want you to relax, and think about cartoons or whatever shit you children like.” He clicked the light off again, and then on, off and then on, in each eye. He watched as the pupil’s dilated as the indigo speck began to bloom like purple vines in rock.
“Dr Warwick, stop it,” Mr Foster shouted.
“What are you going to do? Wait for that idiot in the barn to time travel?”
Darpal went to say something but no words came out. His jaw fell loose. His pupils shook. The indigo grew deeper and brighter.
“You know I’ve spent my life working with these children. Now you’re telling me I wasted it with simple organic beacons, designed to lure an alien invader to the planet. Fuck that! I believe that these children were designed to talk to the cloud. That’s why the aliens tried to kill them. Because they didn’t want us harnessing such a weapon as the cloud. Imagine a weapon of mass destruction like this. It’s going to ensure no other fucking murderous engineers find their way to our planet.”
Darpal fell backwards against the passenger seat. His jaw vibrated as white gobs of foam fizzed from his lips.
“One zero zero one zero one one—”
“It is not the strongest of the species that survive, nor the most intelligent, but the ones most responsive to change,” Dr Warwick said as he leaned over Darpal’s body and continued to click the light on and off. Darpal choked on the numbers and the saliva as they bubbled out of his mouth.
“Dr Warwick, you’re insane,” Mr Foster said.
“Two bubbles approaching,” one of the IPC guards shouted over the radio.
Dr Warwick continued to click the penlight off and on in Darpal’s eyes, leaning over his body.
“Over here too,” another of the Security said from over the radio.
“And here.”
“Fuck me, here too.”
The brothers, Kevin and Daniel, walked to the far end of the carpark and looked out to one of their colleagues setting an EMP at the entrance to the park.
“What have you done?” Mr Foster said as he readjusted his glasses and looked upwards.
“I’m saving us, you idiot.” Dr Warwick looked to the skies as they darkened. “I’m the only one who fucking can.”
Nisha Bhatia
Shouting. The IPC Security guys were losing their shit. Nisha pushed open the Pig-House barn door to see the chaos. Men and women in the IPC uniforms running around with metal boxes. A din of the swarm all around. The smell of metal and dirt thick against her nostrils. She held her hand out in front of her and saw the shadows dancing on her hands. She looked up to the skies to see a fine trail of the cloud, threads of black ribbon across the sky, converging above them and spiralling downwards onto the farm. She’d never seen the cloud in person; she’d been safely tucked away in the HQ. She stood there for a few seconds unsure what to do until a word fell into her mind. Not one from her own thoughts, though. It was pushed there by someone else.
A whisper.
Help.
It was Darpal.
She screamed his name as she ran down the gravel path. The boots were heavy. She wasn’t used to running at all, never mind with each of her feet weighed down with steel toe-caps. Her boots kicked up handfuls of gravel behind her. Pebbles dashed her calves. She ran faster. Her thighs ached. Help. She ran towards the psychic whisper and it took her back to the car park where the cars awaited.
She almost tripped over herself as she skidded to a halt.
“It wasn’t me,” Mr Foster said, shaking his hands and stepping away from the car.
“Where is he?’ she said through panting breath, before seeing the familiar yellow overalls. The two legs poking down the side of the car. He was shaking. He was fitting. Confused, she looked to Dr Warwick. “What’s going on? What did you do?’
“It was Dr Warwick, he blasted his light into the boy’s eyes. He induced the seizure,” Mr Foster said.
Dr Warwick didn’t look like he cared at all. Too busy looking to the skies. He picked up a radio from out of the car and held it to his mouth.
“How are we doing with the EMPs?” he said. And then, finally looking to Nisha, he added, “Don’t look at me like that, you sour bitch. That time traveller is a dud. I’m doing the only thing we can do. You know the indigo children are special. They’re going to help us talk to this thing. I know—Ah!”
Dr Warwick screamed and fell back into the passenger seat of the car as Luna interrupted him with a solid punch to the nose. Her tight ponytail now loose and her copper hair around her shoulders. She winced and shook the sore out of her wrist before walking past Mr Foster and towards the back seat of the car towards Darpal.
Nisha took a step forward before a loud bang stopped her. A lightning strike of noise that rang true, even through the mayhem surrounding them. A sound that cut so hard it slowed down time itself.
The cat, Gary, was watching from the roof of the next car up. Even from his reaction, from the slight contortions of his furry face, she knew what had happened.
A second later and Luna fell backwards onto the gravel floor. The red blood pumped from her stomach and disappeared into the stone and dirt around her.
Mr Foster turned away from the wretched sight. Nisha covered her mouth. They watched as Luna’s already pale skin jumped a few shades lighter. Her mouth open in shock, trying to mouth something, trying to piece a word together. A thought other than one of death. She looked confused, flabbergasted, like she couldn’t grasp what was happening. The slowing world now at a full stop.
A static crackle in the distance woke everyone from their disbelief. The EMPs were being switched on. Still, the cloud descended. Somewhere one of the IPC Security, a female, screamed. Nisha didn’t know her name.
Dr Warwick climbed out of the car holding his bloody nose with one hand and a small black pistol with the other.
“Fucking bitch,” he said. His voice was nasal and comical. Trails of blood fell through his fingers. His perfect hair dishevelled. Blood on his top. Nisha felt herself become light as he stepped forward, aimed the gun at Luna’s head and pulled the trigger again. And then there was no more movement, no more confusion, no more Luna.
Gary leapt into action. He hissed like a demon and ran towards Dr Warwick. A lion and an unsuspecting gazelle. As he leapt into the air, rearing his claws towards Dr Warwick’s face, he was knocked out of the air by Kevin Wilson’s black billy club. His hissing stopped, and when Kevin lifted his steel-toe-capped boot and slammed it down on Gary’s middle, so did Gary. A faint crying and wheezing escaped from his body, but one more stomp with Kevin’s boot and it went quiet.
Nisha dropped to her knees. She felt a sharp prick in the back of her head. An icepick to her skull. Tears streamed down her cheeks and onto the floor. Her eyes felt sore. She felt sick. The world was getting louder with every passing second. The blood in the air mixing with the metal.
Another static crackling in the distance.
“Thank you, Mr Wilson,” Dr Warwick said.
“I’m more of a dog person, sir,” Kevin said as Dr Warwick walked towards Nisha. Each step an earthquake against the gravel. Each time his platform shoes hit the ground she felt the pain in her head sharpen. She couldn’t move. She was paralysed. In the shadow she saw the arm raising and the cold of the pistol against her forehead confirmed it. He was going to kill her too.
“The EMPs are out.” A voice over Kevin’s radio. A million miles away. “Take cover, it’s too …” The man on the radio screamed before cutting out. The skies darkened and the sunlight quickly disappeared. The cloud was here.
“No!” Moomamu’s familiar voice.
Nisha turned her head to see him standing there shaking as he looked at his two dead friends. His fists clenched so tightly they were bleeding.
“What
did you do?” he said. His voice trembled.
“Ah, the true idiot of the day,” Dr Warwick said. “A fucking waste of space if ever I saw one.”
Moomamu started to walk towards Dr Warwick who lifted his gun from Nisha’s head and pointed it at him. He pulled the trigger. The shot was deafening and felt like it fractured Nisha’s skull even more. The icepick digging deeper. Moomamu wasn’t dead though. He’d vanished and reappeared behind Dr Warwick. He reached over his shoulder and grabbed the gun in Dr Warwick’s hands. Before he could get it, Kevin slammed the billy club into Moomamu’s back. He screamed and fell onto Dr Warwick who tripped and fell to the floor.
Kevin went to hit him again but Moomamu crawled up and hugged Kevin’s waist. He wrapped his arms around him and locked his fingers tightly behind. They disappeared. It took Nisha a second to see them both in the air, fifty feet up. Moomamu reappeared by her side as Kevin’s body, left alone, fell and crashed onto the roof of one of the empty convoy cars. He might’ve survived it if Moomamu hadn’t teleported them upside-down and Kevin hadn’t landed on the roof head first. His neck snapped and pointed the wrong way as the windscreen of the car shattered.
Before Dr. Warwick could climb to his feet and pick up the pistol, Moomamu, holding both his hands together, swung them like a club against Dr. Warwick’s chin. Blood and a couple of teeth flew across the gravel and landed on the floor. Moomamu jumped on top of Dr. Warwick, straddling him. He lifted his hands and looked as though he were about to beat him like an ape. But the other Wilson, the younger brother, ran towards Moomamu, pulled him backwards and slammed his knee into Moomamu’s face which dropped him to the floor. Wilson then lifted his boot and slammed it down on Moomamu’s arm, and then again on his torso. Each time Moomamu screamed in agony. He lifted his billy club and was about to swipe it across Moomamu’s face when a bubble knocked him from behind. It hit him with such a force that it carried him across to the edge of the car park, separating into a swarm and already consuming him before he even hit the floor.
