by Mark Tufo
“Not interrupted, took us out of it completely. Halsey says it’s something that absolutely cannot happen. Not even theoretically.”
Tallow must have heard us. He’d come up beside me; he had been there longer than I thought because he seemed to have heard most of the conversation. “Are you sure it was an attack? I mean, shouldn’t things be blowing up, if that was the case? Or shouldn’t you be firing on somebody? Something like that?”
“Did your machine just break?” I asked.
“Halsey says it has to be from the attack. The buckle drive itself is checking out perfectly.”
“Then start it up again and get moving,” I said.
“It won’t do it.” Manuel looked plenty nervous. I suppose I should have been too, but I just didn’t know enough to be scared. As far as I could tell, there had been a malfunction and that as soon as these technologically-driven people fixed it, we could get moving again. The sooner that happened, the sooner I could get back home. That was all that concerned me. I was rapidly realizing that the world, no, the universe was entirely too massive a place. I just wanted to be in my small piece of it and do what I could there.
“Why are you telling us all of this, or any of it, for that matter?” I asked.
“I just thought if it is an attack and something should happen to any of us, that you would want to know why.”
“Thank you, Manuel,” I told him. “You’ve given us lots to think on.” I closed the door.
“Well, well, well. Looks like someone has a crush.” Cedar was smiling.
“Before you think you’re all funny and everything, he said we were both beautiful, so my guess is he has a crush on you as well.”
“He said that?” Cedar blushed.
“I’ll kill him.” Serrot was up and heading for the door, but Lendor intercepted him.
“You think Manuel would wear a kilt?” Cedar asked me.
“How can we possibly have the same mother,” I told her.
I was about to ask Tallow why he wasn’t defending my honor when the ship was hit, and hit hard. Unlike the hard stop when I fell into Lendor, this put all of us on our butts. Lendor even had some blood on his forehead from where he’d hit the corner of a desk.
“You alright?” I asked as I helped him up. I had to shout over the blaring of an alarm.
“That’s not helping!” he yelled, pointing to where the sound was coming from. It only rang out for another ten seconds before quitting, then a notice came over the speakers.
“All crew members. Battle Stations. This is not a drill, repeat, this is not a drill.”
“Manuel?” I went to the door to seek out some answers. He was out cold.
“Must have hit the wall. Lucky for him. I would have hit harder,” Tallow said as he reached over and grabbed the weapon.
“What are you doing?” I asked him. “He’ll get in trouble if they find him like this, unarmed.”
“We’re under attack, Win, by who knows what. I’m not taking any chances that we get caught without a way to defend ourselves.”
“You’re right, but help me drag him in. We can at least try and keep him safe if we need to.”
“Is this because he called you beautiful?” Tallow asked as we moved the soldier.
“It certainly didn’t hurt,” I smiled.
“I’ll put him back.”
“I’m mostly kidding,” I told him. “We can use an ally on the inside.”
“We could hear men and women running back and forth, sometimes yelling orders at each other or just hurrying to get where they were going, but none of them ever bothered to check on us. Then came sounds we were wholly unfamiliar with: loud twangs that reverberated throughout the entire ship.
“I bet that’s weaponry,” Cedar said. “Sounds similar to what the shuttle was shooting, only much more powerful.”
“I don’t like this,” Tallow said. “It was one thing when we battled the Stryvers on that mountain; sure, we figured they were wild animals bent on killing us, but they weren’t hyper-intelligent beings flying space ships and shooting crazy guns at us—at least those ones weren’t.”
He was right; it made it much worse to think that a being like that was capable of this level of warfare. How would we have felt if the wild dogs we all feared were driving trucks and shooting rifles out the windows at us?
4
Attack
“Incoming!” Captain Tilton warned.
“Evasive maneuvers.” Before the commander’s order could be completed, they’d been struck on the side. “What was that?” Breeson asked as he sat upright in his chair.
“Don’t know sir; it would appear our deflectors and shields have held integrity as there are no signs of damage, according to my instrumentation.”
“Where was it heading?”
“C Deck level seventeen,” Tilton said after a moment as he scanned the ship.
“Officers’ quarters,” the commander said. “Did the Ogunquit fire upon us?”
“No sir, the shot came from the void.”
“Magnify the area. Has the vessel shown itself?”
“Still nothing.”
“Anyone else think it’s suspicious that Lodilin shows up just in time to witness us getting punched?” No one spoke, unsure if the question was rhetorical, and to say something like that against a High Council member was a sure way to derail one’s career. “Scan the ship again.” Breeson was seething; something was happening that he was completely unaware and not in control of—two things that he had actively made sure to avoid in his twenty-two years of service.
“Nothing, sir. All shows as well,” Tilton said.
“Something is wrong here. Major Dillinger, have all decks report in.”
“Aye aye, sir.”
“Colonel Runger, can you get me a firing vector on that void?”
“Commander, it’s the damndest thing; the computers are acting like there’s nothing there. I can’t even get a lock because that small piece of space won’t even show up on my system.”
“So not only has this unseen enemy shrouded themselves and their ship, they are somehow concealing a piece of space. Is this even possible?”
“Commander,” Runger spoke up. “Five minutes ago, I would have told you unequivocally that this wasn’t possible, but it is hard to deny the proof we are staring down.”
“Gralter—any change in the status of our buckle?” Breeson asked. They were faced with an enemy they could neither see nor fire upon; the best thing he could do now was to report his findings to his superiors and hope that they had a solution for this new threat.
“None, sir.”
“Anyone have any theories as to why they have only fired the one shot?” Breeson asked.
It was Gralter. “Sir, it’s possible that the power needed to warp the space around them makes the charging of their main guns a long process.”
“Possible,” Breeson said, though he didn’t have much faith in it. Any beings with the ability to do what was being done would have already figured that problem out. “Have the fighters on standby.”
“Sir?” Colonel Runger asked.
“I think they could fire upon us whenever they wished. That they have not done so leads me to believe that they are planning on attacking soon, and we will need the fighters out there as an added layer of defense.”
There were tense moments where nothing happened; the expectation of battle was usually far worse than the battle itself.
“Sir, all levels have reported back with zero casualties, some minor injuries, and no damage to the ship except for Deck C level 17.” Major Dillinger looked to his Commander.
“What are they saying?” Breeson queried.
“That’s the thing, sir; I can’t get them to respond at all.”
“Colonel Runger, get a Tactical Response Team down there and check it out. Probably comms took a hit, but I’m not liking the number of coincidences happening today.”
“Captain Collins, this is Colonel Runger.
Send TReaT units four and five to Deck C level 17.”
“Threat level, sir?” the captain asked.
“Yellow. Can’t get a response from that area and the Commander wants it checked out.”
“Sending them out now, sir. We’ll have some word to you in five.”
5
Rescue
“Winter, I am going to check on what is happening,” Lendor said.
“Be careful, and no further than that doorway,” I told him. Something was definitely not right. “Don’t go thinking heroics either, Lendor. If something is going on, those hallway sensors will be on.”
“I had forgot about those.” Lendor shivered thinking about the invisible blades that would cut him to pieces. He pushed the button to open the door, cautiously poked his head out and looked to the left. Satisfied there was nothing in that direction, he turned to the right. He quickly pulled himself in and slammed his palm against the door button. “Back room now!” he yelled, his eyes wide and his voice tremulous.
“What’s going on?” Cedar asked.
“No time, go!” He was pushing everyone to the back.
“Lendor?” I asked once we were in the far corner.
“Monster,” was all he could manage to get out, his eyes riveted to the door.
“I guess that answers that question. I had hoped to never see a Stryver again,” Serrot said.
Tallow had the rifle trained on the door. His eye to the sight. I felt completely exposed with no weapon to wield. Cedar had grabbed a heavy looking object off a shelf and had her arm cocked back, a look of grim determination upon her face. The closest thing to me was a pillow, and I would not be caught dead using that to defend myself.
“What’s happening?” Manuel said he was on the far side of the room, closest to the door. He was sitting up with a hand to his head.
It was a dead heat as Cedar and I raced out to get him. He looked genuinely scared that we were going to do something to him. Cedar strapped her hand across his mouth to keep him from shouting out. Neither of us waited for him to get his legs under himself as we dragged him back to where we were.
“We’re under attack,” Lendor explained quickly. “Monsters in the hallway.”
“Can I have my rifle back?”
“Not a chance,” Tallow said. “You can’t even stand.”
“If it’s my men that come through there…”
“It’s not,” Lendor told him.
“Cedar! Winter!” was yelled through the door. “We are coming in, do not fire upon us.”
“Looks like we repelled whoever it was,” Manuel said. “You’d better give me the rifle, so there’re no misunderstandings.”
“Not yet,” Tallow said as the door slid open.
A man walked in, dressed all in camouflage. He had strange facial hair: a moustache and a small beard that surrounded only his mouth. He looked fit and ready for just about anything, but he was overshadowed immediately by the monster coming in behind him.
“Son, put the rifle down.” The man had his hands outstretched. “I know this might be hard to believe, but we’re friends.”
“Michael, convince them quickly. We are running out of time. This ship has sent tactical response teams to our location.” The monster appeared to be listening to a device attached to his head.
“Who are you?” I asked, standing up.
“Get down!” Lendor begged as he himself stood. Seven more camouflaged men and women poured through the door, all of them armed. There was now a standoff between Tallow and them.
“Son,” the Michael man said again. “Listen, you pull that trigger and some people are bound to get hurt and if anything happens to my great, great, great….” The man looked up at the monster. “How many greats did you say it was again?”
“Michael, it does not matter. Make your point.”
“Dee, can you not see I am attempting to develop a repartee or is it rapport, with my kin?”
“Kin?” Cedar asked, she was standing now as well. “Tallow, put down the rifle. Your safety is on anyway.” His face turned red as he placed the gun on the bed and put his hands over his head.
“Put your hands down. This isn’t a surrender; it’s a rescue,” the Michael man said.
“Michael? As in Michael Talbot?” Cedar asked, coming around the corner.
“You know? We weren’t sure if you would, been debating that for a good long while. Seems I owe this big galoot behind me now. And if you think Dee’s pretentious now, you should see him when he has a fresh victory under his belt.”
“I have yet to understand why you keep betting with me, Michael. I have not lost.”
“Someday buddy, you’ll stumble, and when that happens, I plan on pouncing. And yes, Cedar, I am Michael Talbot.”
“I don’t know how.” She had tears in her eyes. “And I care even less about why. But I cannot tell you how happy, how overwhelmed, really, that I am.” She ran at him as he did his best to move his rifle out of the way. She wrapped her arms around him tight and sobbed into his chest.
“Oh, my sweet, sweet girl, you have no idea what we’ve gone through to get here, but every last bit of it was worth it. I cannot believe how much like my wife you look. And you too, Winter, like you two jumped right out of a photograph.”
I was more guarded than my sister, but the pull of him was magnetic; I found myself drawn. The feelings my sister felt for him…what emanated from him in waves…could not be fabricated. He had somehow and for some reason traveled across time to this very moment, for us. And he was family. I found myself smooshed up against Cedar as we sought solace in his arms.
“Michael…” Dee urged.
“Alright, alright, I get it, but how many times can I say I hugged the greatest of great-grandchildren? And don’t be scared of Dee here. He is a Genogerian, and he is the fiercest warrior you will ever come across. Also, the most loyal of friends.”
“General Talbot, we have thirty seconds,” one of the soldiers with him announced.
“We need to go,” Michael told us.
There was a quick scuffle as Manuel grabbed the rifle from Tallow’s outstretched hand as they both went for it. He’d seen Manuel dive for it but was slow to react. “You can’t take them.” Manuel was wobbling as he stood, the barrel of the rifle swaying as he did.
Every invader in that room had their rifle pointed at the uniformed boy.
“Who’s Shaky here?” Mike asked, referring to Manuel as he gently moved us to the sides and away from where the guard was pointing. He took a step front and center to dominate Manuel’s line of sight, should he start to fire.
“That’s Manuel; he’s our guard,” I told him.
“Manuel, you don’t want to die here today.”
“Do you?” He looked scared, the bravado ringing false, the whites of his eyes clearly on display.
“Honestly, no, not really, but I’m not afraid of it. I’ve done a lot in my life I can be proud of. I have a wife and children that love me dearly. I have friends I cherish; I have done all that I can to make sure that all of them are safe and live the best lives that they can. What more can a person ask for? And what of you, Manuel? After you pull that trigger and kill me, you follow a moment behind. For what? What will you have accomplished? No matter how far astray your people have come, you have roots in humanity and from what I know, myself, Dee here.” He threw a thumb over his shoulder at the much larger being. “And those with me…we are heroes of your history. How’s that going to look for your legacy? Got to imagine the weight of you being called a traitor for all eternity is going to be a huge burden for your family.”
Manuel looked confused, scared, and indecisive. All could have lethal repercussions. I looked up to Michael; he had a tense look on his face. There was just the slightest movement from the fingers on his right hand.
“Wait!” I stepped out in front. The distraction was enough to keep Manuel from getting shot—or anyone, really—as Tallow leveled him with a punch to the side of his head.
“OW!” He danced around and shook his hand. Manuel fell away to the bed, out cold.
“Good job,” Serrot said as he grabbed the rifle. “Maybe next time don’t punch someone in the skull.”
“I’ll remember that,” Tallow hissed. Mike’s men surrounded us all and within seconds, we were on the move down the hallway.
“You know about the breech inhibitors?” I asked, although we were already twenty feet in the kill zone.
“I should. I was in the meeting when Mad Jack brought up the theory of them.”
“Is it true, then?”
Michael looked angrier than when Manuel was getting ready to shoot him. He was about to answer that until we came under fire.
“Have you two ever shot guns?” he asked as we ducked down a side hallway. “Dee! The bag!” he called out as we stayed pinned to a wall. A green bag that looked to be made from the same material that he was wearing was tossed over; he had to move quickly to keep it from smashing into his head.
“You did that on purpose, you giant piece of luggage.”
“Next time I tell you to move, it would perhaps behoove you to do just that. Now we find ourselves in a firefight we may very well have avoided.”
“He gets angry with me when we get shot at,” Michael said as he rooted around in the bag.
“Don’t you?” Cedar asked.
“If he got mad every time someone shot at him, he would know no other emotion,” the huge Genogerian replied.
Michael looked up as if he were thinking on Dee’s words. “Some truth to that, unfortunately.” He pulled out two small rifles—carbines, he called them. They looked very much like our previous rifles, though they shot a blue ray instead of a traditional bullet. “You’ve shot?” he asked, his head nodding in the hopes that we agreed with him.
“Yes,” we both answered.
“Good. No…not good. I’m sure you’ve had to shoot out of self-defense, just good that you know how. Okay, safety is here.” He pointed to a small green button. When he depressed it, it illuminated a bright red. He pressed it again and it turned green. “You know, now that I’m looking at this, the color scheme seems wrong. Green usually signifies go and red means stop, but this time green means stop and…”
