Invasion

by Eli Constant

  I found myself wandering the halls, not the first time I’d done this since arriving. I didn’t pay attention to where I was going; I simply focused on the act of walking. I heard several voices talking heatedly in one room. I walked a while longer and heard voices speaking angrily in another room. When my mind focused on where I was, I realized I’d walked in circles and was at the same room I’d passed earlier.

  Curious, I stepped to the door and leaned in, hoping to hear the angry conversation within.

  “We need fortification on the north wing. Our sensors have been picking up tunneling for weeks now and the movement is getting closer.”

  I couldn’t be sure, but the tone and deepness of the voice reminded me of Colonel Benson.

  “I thought the whole point of foot thick, reinforced steel flanked by concrete center blocks was that the monsters couldn’t dig their way in.” A different voice now, one that seemed less alarmed.

  “Yes, but the recirculating air system runs through those walls. The points where they intersect are weaker and more vulnerable. We need to reinforce the junctions.”

  “Even without the steel, they still have two feet of concrete they’d have to bust through. Why are you so worried Benson? You’ve been crying wolf for months now. We need to fortify this, test that, position guards in the hangars at all times. You rile us up and then nothing comes of your predictions. Why should we listen to you?” A new voice now; it was particularly condescending and pissed to boot.

  “If you won’t listen to me, listen to the sensors. They prove the movement is advancing.” Benson sounded tired. Of course, anyone would tire of arguing with a group of self-righteous government officials.

  “Benson, I’m tired. We’ve been fighting for hours. We’ll take this new information and your suggestion under advisement.” The voice paused; I thought I heard paper shuffling. “I really think you should calm down. Everything will be fine. NORAD is a fortress and built to withstand a nuclear blast. I don’t think a bit of digging threatens our safety.”

  I was reminded of the Titanic. I could hear its designer in my head. She’s the largest, the fastest, unsinkable! Someone during the process of building and manning the ship must have pointed out the deficient number of lifeboats. We won’t need them, why buy them? Waste of money! This ship is built to withstand anything… inconceivable! She could never sink. Yep. Bet that designer had felt like a real douche when the mega-ship had disappeared beneath icy, crushing waters.

  The talking continued, but I could hear physical movements now. Chairs were being pushed backwards, people were beginning to walk. I unglued my face from the door and moved myself a respectable distance down the hall then turned around and began walking back slowly. I tried to appear deep in thought- too deep to possibly eavesdrop on a conversation.

  Colonel Benson noticed me immediately when he exited the room. He didn’t smile, just nodded his head. I took this as the invitation it wasn’t meant to be and I hurried to his side.

  “So… secret meeting or what?” I fished, but fished playfully to deter suspicion. He grunted unhappily.

  “Or what.” He responded gruffly.

  The other meeting participants made short work of navigating the hallway and disappearing around one bend or another. When they were gone he said: “Idiots are going to get everyone killed because they’re too proud to admit that this facility isn’t as impenetrable as they think.”

  “Yeah. Sounded like a real case of denial in there.” I was still walking, trying to look nonchalant.

  I was banking on Benson trusting me. His eyes shot sideways and he gave me a quick once-over.

  “You’re craftier than you look. Fancied a bit of eaves-dropping, huh?”

  “Colonel, I need you to be completely honest with me. My family is here, everything that I hold dear. If I need to get them the hell out, you need to tell me now.”

  The large man sighed.

  “You heard them, Elise. My gut hasn’t always been right in the past, but equipment doesn’t lie. This time…” He trailed off. “Elise, I know I’m right.” He spoke the words with a quiet ferocity.

  I had no past reference with which to judge Benson on his gut feelings. Knowing the man for the short time I had, however, I leaned towards a positive judgment.

  “If they won’t take preventative measures, I’m packing up my family and leaving. The only question is- are you coming or not?” I looked at him.

  I did want him to come, but his immediate straightening of posture- a response to my words- indicated that he would not leave NORAD and its occupants in the incapable hands of the unbelieving officials.

  “I appreciate the invite, but my duty is to protect this facility. If that means protecting those morons, so be it.” I nodded in understanding. Before Benson walked away, I hunted down a posted facility map in one of the adjacent rooms and made him show me exactly where the weakened wall was. I felt a boulder-sized unpleasantness in my gut. Only weeks of comfort and it was already time to think about leaving.

  Time whizzed by; I lunched, I listened, kissed children goodbye, kissed husband goodbye, spoke polite words to Michael and Allison, and then leisure was over.

  I was so not looking forward to covert ops.

  I headed to Sub-Lab 8. Benson had cleared us security-wise. It was go time. I hated go time.

  Before I knew it, I was ‘suited-up’ and trying to conceal an elongated lump under my sweater. The specimen tank was about the size of a diver’s spare air, not heavy or big. Nonetheless, it caused a noticeable bulk under my clothes as I walked down the halls, feeling exposed because it was late afternoon, still daytime, and there were still people up and about. The science wing was usually pretty deserted though.

  I’d seen it so many times in comedies- the protagonist is told to act natural, melt into the backdrop. So what does our hero do? He over exaggerates a swagger and whistles what he thinks is a casual tune. It never works. The hero is always noticed, targeted.

  I took the opposite route. I kept my head staring straight ahead and concentrated hard on moving forward. My behavior was probably just as noticeable as the comic character’s gait and jaunty tunes, but, hey, it was my best effort.

  Fortunately, the journey to the upper level of the science wing was short. We didn’t run into anyone. Maybe luck would be on our side.

  We didn’t have to wonder if Lab-3 would be as empty as the halls. Benson had scheduled a convenient meeting for O’Toole and Peters to present their current work. Right now, the doctors should be sharing their tedious observational notes. That tedium should simultaneously coincide with us letting loose the hope of mankind.

  We flipped the light switches. Artificial light flooded the laboratory.

  My hand brushed the radio clipped to my pants. It was reassuring to have that early warning system in case the meeting finished before we did. Benson was always planning ahead. Shame I couldn’t convince him to jump ship with us if the shit hit the fan.

  Behind the lengthy line of undergrounder containment rooms, was a narrow access corridor that housed the individual rebreather units. We stood surveying the entrance to that tiny, shadowed hall.

  “This is going to be cozy.” I frowned. “Jamie, you’re the smallest. You go in first and inoculate the first five rooms. I’ll come in behind you and take care of the next five.” I glanced up and down Nick’s tall frame. “Nick, I think you’re going to have to act as look out. You might be able to squeeze in, but we’ll be in a lot of trouble if you get stuck. Here’s the radio. If you hear anything but silence, you yell.”

  Handing him the sleek black radio, I grabbed my tank and waited for Jamie to disappear into the dim passage. She paused just inside the entrance, took a drag on her inhaler, and flipped on her head lamp. I followed suit, turning on my own light.

  It was slow going.

  We squeezed behind pipes and ducked under pipes and tried not to slam our shins on pipes. At one point, I had to flatten my body against the wall and slide to the
side while trying to duck under a low-hanging pipe and lift my legs above a ground pipe.

  I was reminded a bit of riding a subway line during rush hour. If you’re lucky you get a seat, but you still have to contend with the people squashed against you. The best part is that the car designers made sure to create seating that puts the normal height human at butt level with standing riders. I once had the pleasure of a full frontal brush with a 300 pound man. Yum. Yum.

  Finally, I came to cage 6. My eyes ran the length of the back of the cage. A bulbous section stuck out of the wall about a foot above my head. Two pipes ran into the top of the air unit and two pipes ran out of the bottom of the unit. I knew that this system would be outfitted with a purifier.

  Nick had walked us through the schematics of the air systems using the manual procured for us by the Colonel. Jamie and I were clear on what we had to do and both knew how to bypass the purification process. Looking upwards, reaching upwards, and trying to hit the right buttons with very little wiggle room? Not so easy.

  I flipped down the panel cover, thankfully at eye level, and studied the controls. I pressed system stop first.

  “Okay. Menu, settings, filtration, code input.” I bit my lip and then smiled ruefully. I glanced at the back of my right hand to read the ink markings there. “Code input P-0-4-5-G-S.” There was a valve opening located on the bottom of the unit. I attached the inoculation tank hose tightly and opened up the AC valve first.

  “Here goes nothing…” I began to release the nanotech oxide into the outtake piping. I watched the PSI descend down. When I’d released approximately 100 liters of air, I closed both the tank and AC valves. After unhooking the tank hose, I restarted the AC unit.

  We couldn’t leave the purifying function off long or we’d risk exchanging majority air for majority carbon dioxide. Our test wouldn’t be very accurate if our test subjects suffocated.

  It took about 30 minutes to finish inoculating my cages. By the time I finished number ten, Jamie was squeezed in next to me waiting impatiently. “Jesus, Elise. If I’d known you were going to move at a snail’s pace, I’d have taken this row. At least then I could get out of this hell hole and breathe.”

  Finishing up, I looked at her. Actually she was breathing a bit heavy.

  “Are you claustrophobic Jamie?”

  “Only slightly, but if we prolong my stay in here much longer, it might be elevated to a full blown phobia.”

  “Okay, okay.” I pushed the panel to room ten’s air unit closed and shimmied down the narrow hall. I wasn’t afraid of small spaces, but it was nonetheless nice to step out of the small space and stretch. Nick was leaning against the wall with eyes closed. “Hey, look-out! You’re not being very effective.”

  “I wasn’t sleeping. Just resting my eyes.”

  “That saying’s older than you. Get some new material.” I scanned the still empty lab then turned back to him and looked pointedly at the radio clipped to his waist. “No may-day call yet?”

  “Not a peep.”

  Nodding, I tilted my head from side to side trying to work out a few kinks. Jamie was standing near me bent over at the waist, her hands on her knees. Nick walked over and rubbed her back.

  Jamie straightened after a moment and retrieved her inhaler. After a couple drags, she seemed back to normal. I’d wondered where she got new inhalers, but I’d never bothered to ask.

  “How long are we waiting before restarting the purification functions?”

  “We’ll give it twenty minutes or so. It’s just a precaution anyways. The purifier should remove moisture and excess CO2, pass over the oxygen cells, and send the majority of our nanotech back into the room. The issue is that every time one of our nanotech Oxygen atoms bond with Carbon they’ll be filtered out of the closed system. We face a circular depletion of our tech. Turning off the purifier just gains us a bit of time before that depletion starts.”

  “Yeah. I understand all that. Let’s just hope the tech does its job quickly. They’ll be replenishing the air supply and checking the ac units on Friday. Four days to work a miracle.”

  We waited in silence for the most part. Every now and then, Jamie would whisper something to Nick or vice versa. I felt like the third wheel. As a wheel, I found myself very square and quite unable to roll away from the subtle display of affection.

  It was a long twenty minutes and I was grateful when Nick called times-up. It only took one of us to restart the AC units. Jamie was hesitating at the opening so I pushed her back.

  “I’ll do the honors.” I crammed my body back into the access and worked my way to the hall’s end. I had practice now so it took a lot less time to revert to the original system settings on the ten units. I was just shimmying out when the radio crackled to life.

  “Folks, you have about ten minutes to vacate Lab-3.” It was Benson. We didn’t need to be told twice.

  We were out the door and down the stairs in five minutes flat- plenty of time to catch our breath at the bottom of the stairs and walk briskly to our lab. Jamie’s chest was heaving up and down by the time we were home-free.

  “Well that was an adventure.” Nick leaned against a counter’s edge; his hand over his heart and breathing heavily. For someone who appeared so athletic, he was really out of shape. He and Jamie was quite a pair, both of them worse for the wear after the short run.

  “Do you guys have any idea how long it will take before we know if it’s working?”

  “Or not working.” Jamie reminded me, her inhaler out for the second time that night.

  “I’m trying to be optimistic, but thanks for the dose of reality. Usually I’m the pessimist here. Okay, do we have any idea how long it will take to know whether or not it will work.”

  “Well, we ran some tests with extracted undergrounder DNA, but the vectors will respond differently in a live specimen. We studied the specimens for a 24 hour period. By the twelfth hour, the DNA was significantly altered and when compared with human DNA similar enough to be human with individual variation. I think it’s going to take more time though. I’d give it the full day.”

  I could tell Jamie was going over possibilities in her head: Would it go faster or slower? Would it work? Was 24 hours long enough? I decided to put her out of her misery.

  “Jamie, work or not work, we gave it our best shot.”

  “It’s just so stressful.” Jamie’s voice was even more high pitched than usual, her stress palatable.

  We spent the next six and a half hours revisiting data and trying to figure out alternative avenues if the proto-tech vaccine failed. Jamie and Nick both used me as an assistant. They wore me out. My eyes were barely staying open; my brain felt frozen.

  “Guys, I’m exhausted.”

  “Me too.” Nick took off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose.

  “But there’s so much to do… we need to figure out an alternative and we haven’t yet.” Jamie’s voice was half-hearted, her shoulders slumped. She was sleepy too.

  “Get some rest. I’m sure if the undergrounders start becoming less beastie, we’ll hear all about it from Peters and O’Toole. If we don’t hear anything, well, then we’ll go back to the drawing board. Okay?” As if reinforcing my ‘get some rest’ comment, I involuntarily yawned.

  It was with a strange feeling that I waved goodbye and watched the nerdy duo climb on to their tiny, shared cot for a nap. It was still before midnight when I walked into the room where my little Jerry Springer family was sleeping. I checked on the girls. I was so happy that Megan and Kara had accepted Meg. All three girls were piled into one bed, Kara in the middle of the two older girls. Meg’s arm was thrown across Kara protectively.

  I stared at their sleeping forms. Time ticked away and I continued to stare. I don’t know what prolonged the looking- maybe some feeling that these moments were precious and someday might be unavailable to me.

  An arm around my waist pulled me gently from my trance. Rough lips grazed my neck. I reached back to blindly grope for the f
ace that connected with those lips. Stubble prickled my fingers. As my fingers ran across his mouth, he nipped at them playfully.

  I turned around and hugged him.

  “Hey.”

  “Hey, yourself.” He kissed me full on the lips. “How’d tonight go?”

  “Well, it’s done, but it’ll be a while before we know if it did any good. I really hope it did some good.” I crumpled against his body.

  “Tired?”

  I buried my face into his shoulder and spoke; my voice was muffled by the folds of his cotton shirt. “So tired. I’m honestly glad it’s over. If it doesn’t work, there won’t be any going back to the drawing board.”

  “Why’s that? Got something better to do?”

  I pulled back from his body and sighed.

  “Yeah- come up with an exit plan.” He looked at me questioningly.

  For the next half hour, I told him about my eavesdropping- a nasty habit- and my conversation with Benson. We were quiet for a while. Then we planned. It wouldn’t be easy-peasy or a cake waltz in central park. We were both grateful for Jason’s flying lessons. I’d suspected his newly acquired skill would come in handy; I just hadn’t realized how soon.

  I slept fitfully that night, my dreams riddled with confusing, unsettling images.

  ***

  I saw a large hole in a wall.

  As I stood motionless, gray bodies began to pour in like liquor through a siphon. As they entered, they straightened their bodies and stood tall before me.

  I cannot say what I felt, standing before the great mass of them.

  Fear would have been an expected human reaction, but I did not fear. Confusion would have even been an acceptable emotion, but I was not confused. Instead, I was entranced, transfixed, and incandescently unaware of my increasing helplessness.

  I stood unmoving, as elongated, sharp-nailed hands grappled for purchase on my skin. As my body was yanked towards the dark, gaping hole in the wall, I saw my three daughters huddled in a corner.

  It was without feeling that I watched their bodies disappear behind a screen of beasties.