A Memory of Mankind: (This Alien Earth Book 2)

by Paul Antony Jones

  “Oh my God,” I stuttered, throwing a hand to my mouth.

  Two-Thumbs staggered backward, then stopped as the tendril drew taut. His back arched to the point I thought he might snap in two, while his mouth hung open in a silent scream of agony. I gave an involuntary jump when both of his arms flew out on either side of him as though he were being crucified. Then, his whole body convulsed as wave after wave passed over the surface of the orb and down through the tendril.

  Three more snake-like tendrils flashed through the air and attached themselves to Abernathy.

  “Look!” Freuchen hissed. “It’s getting smaller.”

  Freuchen was right. The orb was rapidly shrinking with each passing second, like a deflating balloon. It had started out about the size of a large wide-screen TV but was quickly becoming smaller and smaller.

  “It’s transferring itself to him,” I said, realizing with horror what was happening and unable to keep the disgust out of my voice. But I was right; the black orb was oozing over Abernathy’s body. Several new tentacles had extended from the larger mass covering Abernathy’s abdomen. They slithered up his chest and oozed their way into his open mouth, his Adam’s apple pulsing as they forced their way inside him.

  It was a vomit-inducing sight. I hated this man and would never mourn his death for a second, but this was excruciating to watch.

  The orb, still suspended above the ground by some unseen force was now the size of a tennis ball and continued to shrink by the second, until finally, only the tendrils hung in the air. A second later, they too slipped themselves around Two-Thumbs’ face and merged with the rest of the mass, expanding across his paralyzed body. He remained in the same rigid crucified pose for several excruciating breaths, the black oil moving over his skin. Then, he crumpled to the ground with a splash of water and mud and lay still.

  Steam or smoke, I couldn’t tell which, rose slowly from Two-Thumbs’ body. I was sure he was dead. Whatever that orb was, whatever it had done to him, it had surely killed him.

  Throughout all of this horror, the four men who had accompanied Abernathy had remained rooted to the spot. Now the big guy mustered the three others, and slowly, ever so slowly, they took one tentative step after the other toward Two-Thumbs. The big man leaned over his body then gave a quick step backward when he saw the covering of black oil-like substance that coated his torso. He took a deep breath, moved to Two-Thumbs’ legs, and picked up one of his feet. He yelled something to the other men, but they remained where they were, regarding each other with wide, frightened gazes. It was obvious none of them wanted to touch Two-Thumbs and risk contact with the black oil. The big guy dropped Two-Thumbs’ feet, reached into his rain-slicker, and pulled out a pistol, which he pointed at the three men. There were a few moments of heated discussion between them all as the big man moved the gun to each of them, one after the other. His threat was clear: help him pick up Two-Thumbs, or he would shoot them on the spot. His companions must have been convinced he would carry out the threat because they immediately—but reluctantly—bent and hefted Two-Thumbs.

  “He must be dead,” I said to Chou as I watched them carry his limp body toward the Brimstone. “Right?”

  “Perhaps,” Chou answered.

  “You think he’s still alive?” I said, disbelievingly.

  Chou nodded.

  I let that sink in.

  Freuchen, ever the optimist, said, “Vell, at least that’s vun of them ve do not have to vurry about. I vould have liked to have dealt vith him myself but…” He shrugged and allowed his words to taper off.

  I started to part the curtain of vines, but Chou stopped me.

  “I think it might be a good idea to rest here for a little while. It’s dry and relatively comfortable, and I don’t think they’ll be sending a search party back here. Not after what just happened.”

  “Thank God.” I sat down, feeling some of the tightness leave my tense shoulders. Freuchen eased himself down next to me while Chou remained standing at one of the slits, watchful as ever.

  A minute passed, then I looked up at Chou and said, “How did you get onboard the Brimstone?”

  She answered without looking at me. “When we heard the gunfire, Silas, Albert, and I made our way to the outskirts of the village. We saw the marauders attacking and that you had been captured and were being dragged to the airship. We hid Albert, then Silas and I ran to try to help you. When they fired on us with the heavy weapon, I became separated from Silas. Still, I managed to sneak close enough to the airship to use an emergency access port and gain entry just as it took off. I hid until the ship quieted then began to try to locate you while avoiding the crew. I did not realize that Freuchen had also been captured until I observed him being dragged to the room where you were being interrogated.”

  “What?” I said, loudly. “You knew Freuchen was being tortured?”

  Chou looked down at me. “Please, keep your voice low. We do not know if there are any other search parties close by. Her head turned back to surveilling the world beyond our metal sanctuary and continued. “There was nothing I could do to help him. If I had revealed my presence, I might have managed to free you, but it was unlikely I could have overwhelmed the entire crew—not with the number of weapons they had and the tight quarters. And at that point, Freuchen was in no condition to help me.”

  “So, you let Two-Thumbs take Freuchen’s thumb?” I said, a little flabbergasted.

  Freuchen placed a reassuring hand on my arm and laughed gently. “I do not blame her, Meredith. It vas the right thing to do.”

  Chou turned again to look at me, the displeasure in my voice finally getting her full attention. “I had no doubt it would grow back,” she said. “The alternative would have meant all three of us either being captured or losing our lives.”

  I huffed. Chou was right, of course. Still, I couldn’t help but feel a little betrayed on Freuchen’s behalf.

  Freuchen gave my arm a squeeze and said, “You know, that airship vould make our journey to the collector much faster and more comfortable.”

  I did a double-take. “What?”

  Freuchen slowly nodded. “If ve could gain command of it, ve could travel a hundred miles or more a day, rather than the veeks it takes us now.”

  “We’d have to be crazy to try and get back on board the Brimstone. They’d kill us in a heartbeat,” I said. I looked up at Chou for support.

  “Peter is correct,” she said. “It would cut our travel time down substantially.”

  “Oh, come on,” I said. “Even if by some miracle we managed to take control of it, no one here knows how to pilot an airship.”

  Chou raised her eyes to mine and smiled. “In the event my husband was incapacitated, I was trained extensively in how to pilot my vessel, the Shining Way. I do not believe it would be too difficult for me to master the controls of the Brimstone.”

  “The problem vill be how do ve convince the Red Baroness and her crew to give up control of it?”

  I was beginning to get the feeling they were serious about all this. I exhaled a long breath. “Maybe we could kidnap the captain. Hold her hostage until the crew surrenders?”

  Freuchen shook his head. “I traveled vith enough sailors ven I hunted vales to know that ve cannot trust them any further than I could throw them. Their loyalty to their captain vould extend only as far as it vas in their best interest.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked.

  Freuchen looked at me and said, “I believe there are several individuals who vould seize the opportunity to take control of the Brimstone by killing us and any hostage ve might take, including the captain. Her type rule by fear. Remove that fear and vat do they have to lose?”

  “I concur,” Chou said. “The Brimstone’s crew appears to be held together more by dread than by loyalty. We will have to find another route.”

  A silence of several seconds followed.

  Chou said, “I have a plan that I believe will work.”

  Freuchen scoot
ed closer.

  “The Brimstone achieves its lift by using solar cells on its outer skin to generate energy. That energy is stored in fuel cells that power the ship, but they are also used to extract hydrogen from water, which gives the Brimstone an inexhaustible amount of fuel. Theoretically, it could stay aloft forever. The hydrogen is stored in bladders within the main balloon. I caused a distraction by making a small slit in several of those bladders that would allow enough hydrogen to escape out over time to trigger one of their leak alarms.”

  “Wait a second. Isn’t hydrogen really dangerous?” I said, remembering a grainy black-and-white video I’d seen on Youtube of an airship crashing to Earth in flames.

  Oh, the humanity, I thought, or at least what was left of it.

  “You are correct, Meredith. It is very flammable. But the Brimstone has many safety features to ensure that if there is a hydrogen leak, it will be quickly identified and sealed by the crew. But there is another quality hydrogen gas possesses that I believe we can use to our advantage.” She paused dramatically. “If enough is released into the main gondola, it will displace the oxygen and incapacitate everyone in several minutes. I have calculated that emptying one bladder into the crew’s quarters will be more than sufficient to render them… ineffective.”

  I just stared at her.

  “So, let me get this straight,” I said eventually, “you want us to somehow sneak on board the Brimstone, avoid the guards, release a gas that is not only going to knock everyone out but could also, quite literally blow up in our faces.”

  “As I said, the Brimstone has numerous safety features such as non-static surfaces that will greatly decrease the chance of ignition when the gas is released.”

  I looked to Freuchen, who had remained suspiciously quiet through this whole crazy conversation. He just raised his caterpillar-eyebrows as if to say, Who am I to argue with her.

  “But there’s only three of us, and at least fifteen of them.” I continued, desperately looking for a way to convince my friends that this was an insanely bad idea. “And they have guns. Oh, and did I mention there’s only three of us! We can’t just walk onto the Brimstone and hijack it. And you two aren’t exactly going to blend in with the crowd.” I ran my eyes up Chou’s six-foot frame and Freuchen’s bear-sized bulk. “They’ll spot you from a mile away.”

  “Meredith is correct,” Freuchen said, finally chiming in.

  “Thank you!” I hissed, feeling like sanity might actually be restored to the world.

  “But…” he continued.

  “Oh, great,” I sighed.

  “But you…” Freuchen allowed his words to hang in the air for a moment. “You vould be able to blend in successfully. The search party is looking for three people dressed exactly like us. They vill not be looking for one of their own.”

  Chou nodded in agreement, but I didn’t follow what Freuchen meant and said so.

  “Ve will have to obtain vun of their uniforms for you.”

  “How are we supposed to do that?”

  Chou said, “I will identify a suitable candidate of your approximate size, then we will have to isolate him and relieve him of his clothes.”

  “You mean kill them?” I said.

  Chou nodded.

  “Ve do not have the luxury of taking prisoners,” Freuchen added. “Ve cannot risk them escaping and alerting the rest of the crew.”

  The rain was coming down heavily again, big drops hammering against our hideaway’s metal skin, the constant thrum blocking out all other sounds.

  “Vat’s the matter?” said Freuchen, sensing my hesitation. “It’s okay to be afraid, but you vill be fine.”

  “No, I’m not afraid… well, yeah, of course, I’m afraid. I’m going to have to lie my way aboard an airship where everyone wants to capture me. But it’s not that, it’s—“

  “What?” said Chou.

  “I made a promise.”

  “A promise?” Freuchen said. “To who?”

  “To me. And Silas, and, I guess to everyone. I promised that I would try to be more like the version of humanity the Architect expected us to be. It brought us here because of our potential to be something better than we were, not to repeat the same mistakes of our past. And that means doing my best to find a way to avoid hurting anyone, and definitely not killing anyone.”

  Chou regarded me with cool eyes for a very long moment, sighed deeply, then said, “There will be no room for error on your part. The effects of the gas will render the crew unconscious within three to four minutes. If we can remove all the personnel from the Brimstone within another five minutes of them falling unconscious, I believe the majority, if not all will survive. At worst, they may suffer some brain damage, but I expect the aurora will take care of that.”

  “Ve vill need to restrain them,” Freuchen said.

  Chou nodded. “There are four nylon mooring lines keeping the Brimstone anchored. When you are sure that the crew is incapacitated, cut one of them, and we will use the line to secure the crew. The remaining three lines and the loss of buoyancy should ensure that the airship remains stable on the ground.”

  I thought about it. They were right, we had no idea how far we were from New Manhattan. It might take us weeks to make our way back there on foot, and there was no guarantee we would even find the place again. We could walk right past it. We had none of our supplies, other than what was in our backpacks, having left everything of real value back with Silas and Albert. And if we could, by some miracle, steal the Brimstone out from under their noses, it would make our journey much easier.

  “Okay,” I said. “I’ll do it.”

  “That’s the spirit!” Freuchen exclaimed, patting me gently on the back.

  Chou parted the vines, checked the coast was clear, then ushered Freuchen and me out into the rain again.

  Eleven

  Chou led us out of the robot graveyard back along the path we’d taken when we fled the Brimstone. I wouldn’t have had any idea where we were or how we had gotten there, but Chou unhesitatingly maneuvered us through the trees, stopping every now and then to look and listen for any signs of the search parties we were sure were still out looking for us.

  A few minutes later, she stopped suddenly then slowly dropped to her knees. Freuchen and I did the same, huddling close to her. We waited silently for over a minute, the rain smacking and popping all around us.

  “What is it?” I whispered.

  Chou threw a finger to her lips, then whispered back, “Listen.”

  I strained to hear over the thud of the rain.

  “I don’t hear any—“

  The unmistakable crackle of radio static followed by a muffled voice filtered through the trees ahead of us.

  Freuchen tensed.

  I began to say we should hide, but Chou reached out a hand and covered my mouth. She nodded to a thicket of bushes between a tightly packed group of trees.

  Two figures—a woman and a man—emerged from behind the bushes. Both wore Brimstone uniforms: gray jackets and pants, and gray baseball caps. They were facing away from us, but I instinctively pushed myself closer to the tree trunk we were sheltering under.

  The man held a walkie-talkie in his left hand, an ax tucked into his belt. The woman had a large knife attached to her belt. The man pressed the walkie-talkie to his mouth and said, in what sounded like French-accented English, “Charlie-party responding; no sign of the missing prisoners.”

  “Roger Charlie-party. The captain says take another thirty minutes, then head back here before it gets dark. Copy?”

  “Copy,” the man said. He clipped the walkie-talkie back onto his belt. It continued to chatter as the radio operator back on the airship reached out to other search parties. They began walking in a diagonal path that would bring them close to where we hid.

  The woman said, “I’m going to die of pneumonia before we find them in this rain. What a waste of time. I’m soaked to the skin.”

  The man replied, “Which would you prefer: dy
ing of pneumonia or going back, empty-handed?”

  The woman grunted. “I suppose you’re right, but we weren’t the ones who allowed them to escape in—“

  Chou leaped from our hiding spot. She hit the man in the side of the temple with her elbow and sent him sprawling to the ground, unconscious already judging by the way he collapsed face-first without trying to break his fall. The woman had time to turn in surprise, giving me a moment to see she was about my age, her green eyes wide in astonishment before Chou threw an arm around her throat and proceeded to choke the life out of her. When it was over, Chou allowed the woman’s body to fall to the ground then turned her attention to the unconscious man. Before I could object, she dispatched him with a brutal twist of his head. I jerked when I heard the crack of his neck breaking.

  Chou stood, looked at the body of the dead woman, then at me. “She is about your size.”

  A white name tag was stitched onto the left breast of the woman’s jacket. “Miller,” I said, reading it while trying to avoid the woman’s reproachful dead eyes. The man’s name was Dupuis.

  “Help me get her out of her clothes,” Chou said, unbowed as far as I could see by any kind of regret or sentiment. We quickly stripped Miller down to her underwear. I swapped my soaking wet clothes for hers while Freuchen, his back to me, made an exaggerated scene of relieving the dead man of anything he found useful. Chou dragged Miller’s body back into the underbrush we’d hidden in and covered her with some fallen leaves, then Freuchen did the same.

  Chou stepped back and eyeballed me. “A good fit,” she said.

  She was right; the pants were a little too long in the leg and a little too big around the waist, but otherwise, it was a passable fit. I fastened the belt around my waist, pulling it tight. Then I picked up the man’s baseball cap from where it had fallen, pulled my hair up into a bun, and slipped the bill down as far as I could to try and hide my face. Chou tucked in a few stray strands of hair, then bent over and scraped away a layer of leaves to reveal the soaked earth. She scooped up a large handful of mud and began to smear my new clothes with it.