by Ben Hammott
Corporal Joe McNally, the officer in charge of the Scavenger Team, pointed at the slightly battered, sleek scout ship; it was smaller than the larger cargo shuttle craft and ideal to test out their equipment and plan to remove them. “We'll salvage that one first.”
The two motorized carts carrying their tools and equipment were maneuvered over to the scout ship and unloaded.
Corporal McNally glanced back along the tunnel when the thundering roar of the bulldozer, lowered onto the ice ledge by a powerful CH-47F helicopter, echoed into the hangar. While the dozer used its large blade to smooth the tunnel floor, some of the Scavenger Team set about measuring the distances between the legs of the scout ship and relayed the measurements to those making final adjustments to the sled's connecting bars aboard the ship.
While they waited for the sled parts to arrive, men dragged a heavy-lift air bag over to the craft.
McNally glanced over at the footsteps rushing across the hangar.
Cleveland crossed the room and grabbed one the equipment carts. “I need to borrow this.”
McNally was about to protest, but the large African American was already heading back across the room with it. “Bring it back when you're done with it.”
Cleveland reached the airlock and positioned the cart in the doorway. A few moments later the door slid closed. When it struck the cart, it reversed direction.
Sawyer looked at the Lieutenant. “Now what do we do?”
Miller stared at the insects that had gathered at the windows and scratched annoyingly on the transparent panels. “We kill them all.”
Though it was unnecessary, as the sensitive equipment could pick up his voice clearly, Miller tilted his mouth closer to the mic. “Bravo Team leader to Control, send in the insect repellent.” He glanced over at the hole the Space Rats had used to enter the hangar and then back at the insects. “We’re going on a bug hunt.”
Dank and Dangerous
LUCY STOPPED AND shone the flashlight into each new passage of the crossroad junction she had just arrived at. The cables thinned out as they split off in two of the three alternate directions. It was as hot as hell in the passage, stuffy and claustrophobic; it was time for her to leave before the creature behind her caught up. The hatch her light rested on a few yards along the right-hand offshoot might provide the means for her to do so. She dragged her tired body around the corner to find out. The hatch's rust-laden hinges squealed in protest when she pushed it open. Warm, humid air tinged with the decay of vegetation assaulted her when she shuffled forward and pierced the gloomy dank chamber with the flashlight. Though surprised by what the light picked out, she had seen too many strange things since setting foot aboard the spaceship to be more than a little shocked by its latest bizarre revelation. The dim glow that managed to penetrate the film of green grime covering the light cells running the length of the subterranean chamber highlighted a swampy vista. The gloom-shrouded scene wasn’t particularly inviting, but less so than being chewed upon by the alien creature creeping up behind her.
Swampy, algae-rich water lapped against the wall three-yards below; it would be a one-way ticket as she wouldn’t be able to climb back up. Ignoring as best she could the sounds of the approaching creature and the urge to leap down, Lucy did a quick recce of the area. Her flashlight probed the edges of the swamp for signs of the monsters she was certain must dwell in the dank habitat. Gnarled trees that wouldn’t look out of place in a spooky cemetery film set grew amongst black fingers of rock that arched over the swamp and ended in spear-like points. They had the impression of talons belonging to some immense creature hidden beneath the swamp and surrounding vegetation and if the truth be told, Lucy wouldn’t have been surprised if it turned out to be true. Anything seemed possible in this strange alien vessel. She then saw something that instilled hope that entering the swamp chamber might actually prove rewarding. A stone-effect bridge, that was obviously metal by the way its twisted form hung down at a sloping angle into the water, had once formed a high crossing from one end of the room to the other. Something had caused it to break, perhaps when the spaceship crash-landed on Earth. One end remained jutting out from the opposite wall, ending in midair. The other part of the collapsed bridge sloped up to an arch where steps led up into darkness. The escape pod had brought her far below the level of the engine room and the escape hole, so the rising stairs brought Lucy a little comfort they would take her back in the direction she needed to go.
She glanced at the gentle motion of the swamp water. It was further evidence the iceberg the spaceship was entombed in was adrift. She needed to find a way off the ship and the drifting ice before the sea claimed both. Though she had no idea how she would achieve that, or if any of her friends were still alive and trapped on the vessel, as far as she knew the engine room was her only means of escaping the ship. The rest she would worry about later. She also needed some cold weather gear. It would be suicide to climb out onto the ice dressed as she was, practically naked. It was another problem for later. First she had to make her way to the upper levels and avoid the creature in pursuit.
She gripped the open hatch door for support and dragged herself forward until she could hang from the edge and let go. As she dropped she wondered how deep the foul water was and if any creatures waited below the surface. When she splashed into the swamp up to her knees, her feet sunk into its muddy bottom a few inches. As ripples caused by her entry spread out across the thick, floating carpet of algae, Lucy scanned the swamp for signs of movement. A bubble of air plopped to the surface sixty-feet away. A second one emerged a little nearer. When the third one burst even closer, Lucy rushed for the nearest bank. The back of an amphibious creature, adorned with short, thin spikes, rose above the surface when it speeded up its charge. Lucy glanced behind. It had already covered half the distance. An eye on a long, thin stalk, that emitted a beam of blue light, rose out of the water like a submarine periscope and looked at her. Lucy spurted for the edge of the swamp; her feet slipping and sliding on the muddy bottom hampered her progress.
When others of its kind sensed a meal in the offering, six more amphibious horrors converged on the frantic splashing of possible prey.
As Lucy reached the edge, she glanced at the mass of eyes heading straight for her. She grabbed the tree root trailing into the water and climbed the steep bank. She collapsed to the ground at the top and looked down at the creatures that swam in a circle while their eyes constantly turned to keep her in their sight. Perhaps they waited to see if she would be foolish enough to re-enter their domain. If so, they were out of luck, as it wasn’t something she planned on doing.
The creature that had followed Lucy appeared at the vent opening, sniffed the air until it detected its prey and stared at her briefly before screeching and leaping into the swamp. It was obvious by its awkward half-walking, half-swimming movements that it wasn't at home in this water-world.
The eyes poking above the water swiveled when something splashed into the swamp behind them. After observing it for a few moments, they headed for the creature and circled it like sharks. Then, as if a silent signal had transpired between them, the submerged creatures converged on their prey. Water splashed and surged as the creature fought for its life. Outnumbered and in its attackers' natural habitat, it fought a battle it could never win and was dragged below the surface to be consumed.
Thankful the creature had been disposed of, Lucy sat for a few moments to rest. She was tired, hungry and thirsty, but assumed it would be a while before any of her cravings would be satisfied. A buzzing sound, similar to that of a mosquito, but louder, turned her head. A small creature covered in pale-grey skin and the size of a pigeon, hovered in the air a short distance away. Its two spindly praying mantis type arms ended in three digits, two shorter than the center one, which ended in a sucker. Its slightly thicker back legs were furnished with three hooked claws. Its tiny bald head was fronted by a face with two small, black, sunken eyes and a vertical mouth that gave it a permanent sad,
angry expression.
Observing the strange thing it had happened across, the flying creature flittered from side to side by means of two whirring blades, similar to helicopter rotors, at the end of two arm-like appendages that grew from its shoulder blades.
Lucy watched it tilt its head while it examined her. Though worried by its presence, she didn't experience the fear she would have from a larger ferocious creature. “You don’t seem so bad, but if you are sizing me up as a meal, I’d think again. I don’t want to hurt you, but attack me and I will.” Lucy kept her voice quiet and calm, a distraction from her hand inching towards the short branch she had spied nearby in the purple grass.
The Whirly Bug seemed to lose interest in her, as it emitted a shrill warble and flew away.
Lucy climbed to her feet gripping the short branch. Though probably inadequate against most of the alien monsters she might encounter, it felt good to have some type of weapon. Sensing she had lingered long enough, she moved through the patches of spindly trees and jagged rock formations. Luckily for her bare feet, the ground was covered in a purple, spongy grass-like growth. An increasing drone behind her spun her towards the sound. It seemed the lone Whirly Bug, having sized her up as too large or too strange a prey to tackle on its own, had returned with reinforcements.
Lucy ran.
The Whirly Bug flock gave chase.
When Lucy dodged around the base of a rock finger, she stumbled and came face to face with a group of pig-size beasts covered in long, thick shaggy hair. They were chewing grass and one of them stared at her with disinterest as it munched on a mouthful of purple vegetation. It seemed she had encountered the first species of herbivore since setting foot on this hell ship. Careful she didn't spook them, but with cautious haste, Lucy moved around the edge of the small herd.
On hearing the buzz of the approaching Whirly Bugs, the woolly-trotters raised their flat snouts and directed their large brown eyes at the sound. When the swarm appeared, the hogs' eyes shrunk and glowed red, their long hair stiffened and shot erect, forming thin, sharp spines that covered their bodies like a forest of rapier blades.
Lucy ran when the herd bolted. The bugs gave chase. Hooves thundered on the ground. A fallen tree blocked the path. Lucy and the spiky-hogs leaped over. The alien hog running level with Lucy glanced at her. Though it seemed surprised to see such a strange creature, it saw an opportunity to distract the bugs they obviously feared. It dodged towards her in an attempt to pierce her flesh with its spikes―an offering for the hungry swarm.
Lucy dodged aside to avoid becoming impaled and darted around a tree. The distracted hog crashed into the trunk and tumbled across the ground. Two Whirly Bugs attacked. They landed on the hog's exposed, spike-free underbelly and stabbed their sucker fingers at its skin. The hog screeched, but quickly fell silent when the paralyzing venom injected by its attackers took hold. More bugs joined the first two. Their sucker fingers pulsed as the hog's life-giving fluid was pumped out. Its skin shrunk until it was stretched tightly over its frame like a mummified corpse. Sensing death and a meal, beetle-like insects, all jaws on legs, burrowed out of the grass ready to feed on the hog's carcass when the Whirly Bugs had finished feasting.
The Whirly Bugs unable to find room to feed on the downed hog continued their pursuit of the remaining quarry.
Lucy glimpsed the bridge through the trees and veered away from the hog herd. The Whirly Bugs split their forces between the hogs and Lucy.
When she approached the swamp, Lucy shot a glance behind. The bugs were still after her, though in lesser numbers now, not that it made much of a difference. However apt she was at fighting them off with the makeshift club, they were too fast and maneuverable for her to stop them for long. Only one had to make contact to incapacitate her. She reached the top of the bank, jumped and almost toppled into the stagnant water when she landed in the swamp and slipped on its sludge-layered bottom. She regained her balance and waded for the bridge a few yards away. A disturbance in the water indicated the approach of the amphibian creatures. Eyes looked hungrily at her as they headed for the latest source of food.
Lucy reached the edge of the bridge, scrambled onto it and glanced back. The Whirly Bugs glided towards her. Something erupted from the water. A stalk-eyed fish monster entered the swarm and grabbed a Whirly Bug before splashing into the water with its meal grasped in its jaws. Two more fish monsters leaped and each grabbed a prize. The remaining Whirly Bugs avoided similar fates as their brethren by rising higher than the fish could leap. The un-sated fish plummeted back into the swamp.
The bugs chased Lucy up the bridge. She reached the tunnel entrance and balked at the acrid stench―strong enough to bring tears to her eyes―that assaulted her. She forced herself inside and raced for the steps, tripped on a root grown across the path and fell. She turned as soon as she struck the ground and raised the club ready to fight off her attackers, but was surprised to see the Whirly Bugs had halted at the entrance. They hovered and stared at her, flicking from side to side in an angry, frustrated manner. When a hog screeched in the distance, they turned away and headed for the sound.
Lucy wondered why the bugs hadn’t entered the tunnel. Maybe it was the smell? Something splattered on the ground beside her. She looked at the moist, white lump and the wisp of steam rising from it. She balked again when the fresh stench washed over her. A thick, crusty layer interspersed with fresher lumps covered the tunnel floor. She tilted her head back. Creatures hung from claws clamped on the tunnel roof. One of them folded back a wing from its face and stared at her with glowing green eyes.
Oval office
SAMUEL HOPKINS THE President's Chief of Staff, and General Nathanial Colt, the Deputy Assistant to the President and Director of the White House Military Office, entered the Oval office and crossed to the table set off to one side where President Conner cast his astounded gaze over NASA's satellite scans of the spaceship entombed in the drifting iceberg. Made from a collage of smaller images digitally joined together, it showed the full size of the huge vessel.
“It's amazing is it not, Mr. President?” marveled General Colt, sweeping his eyes over the incredible image. “Luckily, whatever was preventing its detection before is no longer operational, giving us the first glimpse of an alien spaceship, or mother ship, as NASA has labeled it. Hopefully, if we can salvage one or more of the smaller spaceships from the hangar, they will have the same cloaking technology we can reverse engineer.”
The President glanced at his Deputy Assistant. “But how can something this size be constructed and propelled through space? It must weigh hundreds of thousands or possibly millions of tons. The fuel weight alone would be astronomical.”
“If they, the aliens that designed and built this thing, used our type of rocket propulsion, yes, it would,” answered Hopkins. “However, according to NASA's experts and what the scientists saw aboard the ship in what they believe to be the engine room, that's extremely unlikely. NASA believes with absolute certainty that the aliens who built it have advanced far beyond combustible fuel and the tubes of green liquid the scientists came across might be a type of extremely efficient or even reusable fuel. Unfortunately, we don't have the time or the resources available, given the short timeframe we have before it's lost, to salvage the main engines. However, if we can salvage one or more of the smaller spacecraft the scientists reported were inside, which probably shares the same or similar propulsion technology, it could advance our efforts to reach farther into space by hundreds if not thousands of years.”
“And the military advances are incalculable,” added Colt.
“Yes, yes, I've heard all this from NASA repeatedly ever since we learned of the spaceship,” stated the President, “but this is a sensitive operation. We have no more jurisdiction in the Antarctic than any other nation and now that British idiot, Richard Whorley, has splashed the spaceship's existence all over the newspapers, this,” he swept a hand over the spaceship scan, “is no longer a secret and something they'll al
l want a piece of.”
“Yes, that is most unfortunate,” agreed Hopkins. “However, as we speak, steps are being taken to invalidate Mr. Whorley's fantastical story.”
President Conner's eyebrows rose. “Another Roswell type cover-up?”
“Not exactly, but…”
President Conner raised a hand. “No, best I remain oblivious of the details.”
Hopkins nodded. “As you wish, Mr. President.”
President Conner turned his attention back to the spaceship image. “Not that I can imagine how you'll be able to cover up something as large as this. We are not the only nation with satellite technology and I'd be extremely surprised if certain countries don't have theirs aimed directly at the drifting iceberg as we speak.”
“I'm sure they have,” agreed Hopkins, “but we are fortunate that it's located in such a remote and inhospitable place. The Internet is full of hoaxed spaceship sightings and images; this will just be another. Yes, the conspiracy nut-jobs will have a field day with it, but without any physical evidence, only Whorley's photographs, easily created with graphic software, as were our images that will be posted online shortly. It will capture people's imagination for a while.”
The President wasn't convinced. “That's probably what they thought about Roswell, and look how that turned out. However, it's not the general public that causes me the most concern; it's those countries that will want to get their hands on advanced alien technology as badly as us, the Russians and Chinese especially.”
“It's lucky that we were able to get our men on site so quickly,” said Colt. “We were first on the scene and will be first to claim what we can. The British, already privy to the information, on your orders, will be involved in the salvage operation. The Russians already have a ship heading for the Antarctic, though I'm not certain what they'll do when they arrive as there is only one entrance into the spaceship and we have that well guarded.”
