Abductees

by Alan Brickett

  Marc’s gaze was unfocused as he silently communicated through the singlesuit systems, so he didn’t notice the sudden ambush that Connor led them in to.

  Since the three humans had gone through this a few times and been alerted by the map display, Connor didn’t give a second thought to doing it again.

  This time, though, the aliens were either a bit brighter or desperate, perhaps both.

  While four of them engaged Connor and Meriam, a fifth shot open one of the pipes that climbed over a bigger pipe. The next thing Marc was shockingly made aware of, there was a plume of flame spewing from the ruptured pipeline, forcing him to jump backward, right in among two other Lanillans who were waiting for their moment to attack.

  The first struck out with the butt of his weapon, knocking the handgun from Marc’s grip to send it rattling along the metal floor. His companion shoved Marc back to fall against a tangle of other pipes, knocking his breath out.

  The Domum officer was politely asking him what was interrupting their talk, but Marc was more focused on the two ion weapons now pointing in his direction.

  “Uh, one moment, please,” he sent with his thoughts.

  The Lanillans gave each other a short glance and then opened fire.

  Short, sharp bursts of light invaded Marc’s vision as his protective field reacted to the ion blasts, bright flashes of light behind the various displays he had up before his eyes. The displays over his eyes darkened, reducing the bright flares so that they did not permanently blind him.

  One of the displays was highlighting where his hand weapon had slid.

  Shit, shit, shit was all Marc had running through his thoughts.

  His suit status display showed him that in a few seconds, the barrage of ion blasts would overload his protective field. The map showed Meriam and Connor busy on the other side of the wall of flame, which, although temporary, wouldn’t be out in time for them to save him.

  His only option was to fight back, but without his weapon, he was lost.

  He didn’t have any fighting training at all. Sure, he had watched a lot of martial arts movies, but that didn’t download like the memory implants and suddenly give him the skill he needed.

  If he could just get his gun back!

  His display showed him the violet outline of the gun, and he pushed aside several other displays so he could see the position of the weapon through the flashes of light that were hitting him. Then an option popped up for retrieval, to pull the weapon back to him. Once the concept registered, he didn’t even have to think about it; Marc reacted instinctively.

  He held his hand out towards the weapon and summoned it to come back to him, and amazingly, it did just that.

  With a shimmer of violet light around it, the hand weapon lifted from the floor in a straight line up and into Marc’s open grip. One of the Lanillans was jostled aside by the flying object.

  He closed his hand on the weapon handle, and his display shifted the weapon off safety, into stun, and highlighted the two targets in his vision through the intervening ion shots.

  Marc raised the weapon and fired, twice, both shots unerringly accurate.

  The two Lanillans dropped to the hard floor, the stunning energy lining their bodies in a sickly color of green over the underlying yellow.

  Marc took a few deep, shuddering breaths while his protective field stabilized in a halo of dispersed energy. The pipe spewing fire died down to a desultory dribble leaking from the rupture, allowing Connor and Meriam to rejoin him.

  “Hey, bud, are you alright?” Connor sounded concerned as he looked Marc up and down, and Meriam glanced at him while checking her map for anyone else nearby.

  “Uh, yeah, yeah, I’m okay. Jeez, did you guys see that? It was like being a Jedi!” Marc said. He couldn’t help the excitement that was evident in his voice.

  Connor gave him a lopsided smile. “Yeah, sure, bud. Great tech, huh?”

  Marc nodded in reply, reviewing his system status and seeing that he was fully recovered, even though his heart was still going like a freight train.

  Automated log update.

  Scenario in the Puzzle Box refinery is coming to a conclusion. All recordings will be stored in file 337-L for research study.

  All gravitonic readings are appended in file 337-M.

  Subjects are displaying conscious use of gravitonic projections and other faculties within tolerance levels. Success of the indoctrination techniques is rated higher than prior readings would indicate, which provides evidence that subjects have progressed faster than the mean estimates.

  Conclusions and readings for basic algorithms of human development included in file 337-N.

  Forecasting indicates that the subjects will not be able to maintain the Devourer specimen after acquisition. Odds of acquisition greater than ninety-five percent.

  Domum officials present in the theater of incident lower the chances of successful delivery back to the vessel to less than three percent.

  This is in favor of the frustration by locked-door scenario postulated to increase the desire and thus capability to get through the door.

  Mission growth parameters stay in the positive region while this is in effect. A success at this stage would potentially undermine the frustration levels.

  Interference is not required.

  Monitoring continues.

  * *

  Their scans had some trouble reading through the various fluids and moving contents of the pipes in the refinery processing hall.

  To the Domums, the entire area was full of distorted sensor results and black spots, so as protocol indicated, they slowed down and moved in a skirmish line through the area.

  Moments ago, they had received an update from the lead officer on the scene, who told them the humans were ahead of them and moving onwards to capture the Lanillan leader, the local Lopokin family head who had a Devourer specimen that the humans had come here for.

  The details were relatively irrelevant to the security sweeping through the machinery, except for the tactical relevance.

  They relied on a high level of vigilance as always, but the report from the humans seemed to be accurate. Evidence of their claims that they had resolved several conflicts with the criminals of the refinery were sprawled all over the area.

  Domums moving through the maze of pipes regularly encountered unconscious members of the gang.

  A few minutes into the hall, the Domums were all making a note of the efficiency and clean sweep the humans had conducted.

  The lead officer idly wondered if the humans had gotten lucky or were always this good.

  * *

  Wonovar Lopokin was upset and angry, yes, definitely angry.

  It wouldn’t do to be afraid; that was not what a Lopokin family member would ever admit to being. So, it was anger giving him the shakes and spurring him on.

  Why would he need to be afraid?

  He had joined up with six other members of his gang, who even now had him surrounded protectively while he carried the sample container with him to the nearest exit. Yes, he was looking for a good way off the refinery, but not because he was running away.

  No, he had to get the valuable sample to the rest of the family, and just because it needed him to carry it, it didn’t mean that he was making it a good excuse.

  His discussion with Kalinvar Lopokin just a few minutes ago hadn’t exactly been positive, though. His minions had reported the Domums entering the refinery from the platform, and the morons had opened fire on them at once.

  It seems the humans had thrown them off the simple instructions that Wonovar had given them to always cooperate with the Domums.

  A simple-to-understand legal system kept the Puzzle Box operating, and as long as you were smart enough to operate within the gray areas, you could get away with a lot of things. So, if the fools had just surrendered and not put up a fight, then Wonovar could have sold the situation as one created by the humans.

  But now, they had just caused more trouble.


  It was appalling to Wonovar how badly they had underestimated these humans’ capabilities. They were almost like the Domums in their efficiency and capacity to bring ruin, so organized and well equipped.

  If only he had been able to strip their corpses; the technology they had would have been of enormous profit to the Lopokin family.

  Not that it got him any credit with Kalinvar.

  The elder Lopokin’s words had been quite clear.

  “We have already been notified on general alert, along with the rest of the Puzzle Box, that the refinery is being raided. The warrant was authenticated and validated when your men resisted. All citizens of the Puzzle Box have been warned to stay away until the situation is resolved. We cannot help you, cousin.”

  The next bit hadn’t made him feel much better.

  “If you can escape capture and make your way to us surreptitiously, then we will reward you for identifying these humans and their impressive resources to us. If you do, however, get arrested and incarcerated, we will provide you the same terms as all other family members, fear not. And you can also rest easy knowing that we will pursue these humans for our own interests as well so you will be avenged.”

  A fat lot of good that would be if he was taking his ease in some convict mining gang. Even with the luxuries afforded by the Lopokin name and bribes, it would be a great many steps down from his current life.

  Granted, look where that had gotten him: running for his life in his own refinery with barely six members of the gang left.

  If he did escape, he was seriously considering getting far away from the Puzzle Box, not only because of what all the refugees were saying and because the humans were there, but because he wasn’t sure if the humans had killed the members of his gang that had dropped out of communication.

  The highly effective Domums had dealt with more than two dozen of his henchmen, but the much more impressive humans had accounted for all of the rest already.

  If they were dead, then prison would be much kinder than what the Lopokin family would do to him by comparison. He hadn’t had the heart to report that minor detail to Kalinvar. It was bad enough he had called for help in the first place.

  The admission of defeat brought bitter bile into his throat. Lost in his thoughts, Wonovar only realized that his group was under attack when the two Lanillans in the lead dropped with green bolts spreading energy over their skin.

  Spinning around, he saw the flanking gang members dropping after taking shots from above and to the right of where they had been moving.

  Surrounded?

  How had the humans all coordinated so well?

  He could hardly believe it when one of the humans from the room above stepped out of a cluster of pipes to one side, and three others crept from a passage on the opposite. But what really startled him was when the one with deep ebony colored skin dropped down from above to land soundlessly on the refinery deck plating with only a faint sparkle of violet light to betray how she could fall that height with no injury at all.

  The big, redhaired human stepped forward to speak to Wonovar.

  Since he had stayed with the smallest male and the beautiful female, Wonovar had assumed that he was only a bodyguard. But if the others deferred to him, then he must be more important than Wonovar had first thought, a good ploy on their part, keeping their leader in a position to be safe but still involved.

  “Give it up. We just want the Devourer specimen.” The man’s voice was deep and also gruff—from a lot of time spent talking, possibly loudly, Wonovar guessed.

  He looked from side to side, noting the dark-skinned female, her pitch-black, coarse hair and her lithe figure compacted into her tight clothes. He had found the whole visual effect to be very attractive before; now the play of her very obviously muscled frame reminded him of warriors and physical acts that were not at all erotic.

  The idea of hair was exotic to a Lanillan.

  Some even had their females get implants so that they could experience the sensation. But not Wonovar. If he had won these humans into his harem—or procured them, either way—then he would have had them shaved.

  Especially the tall one standing next to their leader.

  How did she keep such long hair in good order with everything else that had gone on?

  No Lanillan would be that tall. Her beauty and stature would have been quite the symbol of status for him. But alas, perhaps it was not to be. Now his priority was to escape in one piece, preferably not under arrest.

  “Well, alright then, good humans. You have bested my men and have me at your advantage. I acknowledge this with all the good graces I can manage.” Wonovar spoke slowly, carefully, as if to soothe savage animals. “I will gladly part with the Devourer specimen in return for you allowing me to escape.”

  “I don’t think you’re in much of a position to negotiate here, mate.” This from the pale-skinned human.

  “Am I not now?” Wonovar held up the specimen container, the parasite inside scrabbling for purchase with its little clawed feet.

  Making sure they could all see it, he activated one of the buttons embedded in the transparent surface. On the outside, the Domum letters for “Decontaminate” appeared.

  “Can you read this?” he asked.

  The pale human glanced at the bigger one, affirming Wonovar’s suspicion of leadership, so he focused his gaze on the huge man.

  The redhaired giant frowned at Wonovar. “Yes, we can read it. What’s your game, buddy?”

  Full of colloquialisms, these humans.

  It was extraordinary to consider that they might be from different backgrounds or cultures among their own species to create such a diverse group. Lanillans stuck to their families. Interaction was usually only by alliance and only for very important reasons, to see five different examples of humans working together was just plain weird.

  “I would have thought it was obvious to beings of your expertise.”

  Wonovar smiled his most charming smile.

  He noted the dark-skinned female had the same galvanic skin response as before.

  Perhaps the species barrier doesn’t read charm and smiles the same way, he thought.

  “If I press this icon, the container will decontaminate itself, immolating the parasite within. Then you will have nothing. But if you agree to let me escape, then I will hand it over, and we both get what we want.”

  There was a slight pause, Wonovar had the distinct impression from the glances that the humans were somehow communicating with each other. How they did it, he had no idea, since he heard nothing and couldn’t make out any kind of complicated sign language, but he was sure they were.

  The big one said to him, “Why would you trust us to let you go once you have given over your leverage?”

  “Why? Well, because of the honor you have shown so far in dealing with my men.”

  There! He could see in the big oaf’s face that on some ethical level, he agreed.

  Wonovar had learned to bluff with the best of them, the art of a good con. The tall female was watching him very carefully and seemed to recognize his ploy.

  But it was too late now.

  He knew these humans weren’t afraid to fight, but this confirmed that they were an ethical species.

  Wonovar decided to do another check. He put on his most innocent expression.

  “Are my men alive? Am I right?”

  “Yes, they are just stunned. By us, at any rate.” The man’s red hair moved from side to side from the momentum of the involuntary shake of his head.

  “So, you see, that shows I can trust your word. If you give it.”

  Wonovar lifted the transparent sample capsule a little and lowered it, noting how their eyes tracked the movement. They really wanted the Devourer parasite—why, he had no idea—but if he could use it to his advantage, he really didn’t care about the outcome.

  “Okay, you have our word. Give us the container, and we’ll let you go free.”

  With a gesture an
d a nod, the big man had the other four all lower their weapons, although the male and female with the rifle type weapons only pointed theirs down at an angle. Not that Wonovar had any aspirations to be able to force his way out of this situation, but he was impressed by their diligence.

  “Agreed. Here, take this creature and allow me to leave.” Wonovar held out the specimen container and took two steps forward.

  The redhaired human had just begun to walk over when a roiling mass of plasma engulfed Wonovar’s hand and the container itself.

  The pain was intense.

  His skin erupted in a maelstrom of heat and the feeling of layers of flesh being evaporated at super-hot temperatures. Then, suddenly, it chilled, all of the nerves flash destroyed in the first engulfment, and now only the inner nerve clusters able to register anything among the deluge of pain signals sent down the arm.

  The container’s carbon plastic melted in an instant, the parasite inside roasted and then burned to a blackened husk just before the container collapsed in on itself.

  The entire effect took two seconds, and then the plasma consumed itself, the container, and Wonovar’s hand so that only a charred and blackened stump was left at the end of his arm when the mass of plasma dropped off to land sizzling on the metal floor.

  He was screaming in pain and confusion as the humans turned to face the Domum enforcers who were trundling up towards them.

  The one who had fired the plasma bolt closed the aperture on his forearm equipment blister and lowered his arm in satisfaction at a job well done.

  One of the Domums fired a green beam into Wonovar, the pain of the stun pulse barely registering on his saturated nerves as he passed gratefully into unconscious oblivion.

  * *

  It was a scene of efficiency.

  Domum Security officers were out rounding up the members of the Lopokin family from wherever they had been left stunned or were hiding. The Domums could carry them in two at a time with their greater strength.