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Eve of Destruction by Christopher Woods
“I don’t believe it,” I said, listening to the news anchor as the cameraman panned the camera across the landing strip behind him.
“That’s not even human,” Destry said. He was seated in one of the chairs to my left.
“No, it’s not.”
“What do you think they want?” he asked.
“Who knows? If all the movies are right, they’ll blow us up anyway.”
“You know Hollywood never gets anything right.”
I chuckled. “Sure enough.”
“Sergeant Corbin James!” I heard my name from the other side of the room.
“Shit,” I muttered.
I stood up and turned to find Colonel Ramses standing on the other side of the barred door.
“Yes, sir?” I saluted the colonel.
“You will be accompanying me, Sergeant.”
“Sir?”
“Your sentence is officially commuted.”
“Okay, sir…”
“I suppose you’ve seen the news.” He gestured toward the television. “Our country is in a bit of a crisis and has no time to worry about your insubordination. I’m going to assume you feel you have been adequately punished for that particular offense.”
“Absolutely, sir.”
“Perhaps the offended party has decided that having his car impaled is less offensive with this going on,” he said as he motioned toward the television once more. “Especially with the president himself requesting you be brought to Washington.”
“Um…”
“You’re usually a little more talkative, Sergeant.” Ramses chuckled. “But I understand. What the hell the president wants with you, I have no idea. Do you have anything you need to retrieve from your cell?”
“No, sir,” I said. “They can have it.”
“We have time for you to…”
“Nothing worth wasting time on, sir,” I said, “and frankly, I don’t want you to get a chance to change your mind. I’ve spent entirely too much time with Corporal Destry and would rather go ahead and get out of here.”
“I think I should feel insulted,” Destry said from where he’d remained seated. “I’d ask if the president wanted another, but I think I’d rather stay here. He’ll probably have you shot as an example.”
“Damn,” I muttered. “I didn’t even think of that.”
“Too late now.” Ramses laughed. “Come along, Sergeant.”
I looked toward Destry, shrugged, and followed Colonel Ramses out of the cell block. The colonel was quiet as we trekked from the cell block, through the administrative center, and out into the evening air. It looked like it might rain.
His aide opened the door for the colonel, and I opened my own. He nodded to me before he eased into the driver’s seat of the car that looked a whole lot like the one I had left impaled on the statue in front of the lieutenant colonel’s office.
I guess it would have been better if I hadn’t left my fingerprints inside when I stole the car. I missed one stinking print. I’d gotten the ones on the steering wheel and the handles.
I sat beside Ramses in silence for most of the trip to the airfield. “What do you make of this thing with the visitors, sir?”
“God only knows, James. With things as they’re going with the world, they’re probably here to tell us they plan to destroy the planet for an intergalactic freeway.”
I chuckled. “Better pack a towel.”
He laughed. “That almost makes me want to forgive you for leaving Harris’ car like that. Why did you do that? Harris is an ass, so you don’t need to answer that. But why did you leave a print?”
“I missed the one on the seatbelt release, sir.”
“Dumbass,” he said.
“I have to agree with you on that, sir.”
“You managed to get the damn thing up there with no one the wiser, and you left a print on the seatbelt release.”
“Not the most glorious moment of my career, sir.”
“I’ll say.” He shook his head. “I’m not going to deny that I’m worried about what comes next, son. All I can tell you is that there was a blanket order to locate three people. You were the easiest to find, since you’re Army. All three of you are to be brought to Washington.”
“What other people, sir?”
“They have no connection whatsoever with you, Sergeant. One is a housewife from Kansas. The other is an old guy from Colorado. She’s forty something, he’s in his sixties. Then there’s you.”
“What the hell is going on, sir?”
“Rumor is that the Visitors requested you three by name.”
“Well now, that doesn’t fill me with anticipation,” I said.
“The way they talked, you’re pretty important to the survival of a lot of folks.”
“Still no anticipation, sir. In fact, that makes me damned nervous.”
“It makes me nervous too, son,” he said. “Because, if we’re depending on a housewife, a retired postal worker, and you to save us, we’re in some deep shit.”
“I’d feel a little offended, sir, if I didn’t agree with you. What are we supposed to be doing?”
“I have no idea,” he said. “My job is to get you to Washington to meet with this guy…or whatever. You’ll find out when I do. You may even find out before I do. I’m not sure if I’ll be read into it.”
“You’re my commanding officer, sir. Surely they’ll read you into it.”
“With a damned alien spacecraft sitting on the ground at the Pentagon, I’m not sure of anything anymore, son.”
I swallowed as I saw the airfield coming into view. “Definitely not feeling excited about this,” I muttered.
* * *
As I stepped down from the jet, I was met by a lot more people than I ever intended to meet, including the president of the United States. Beside him stood a being that was straight out of one of the old sci-fi shows, with grey skin, a large head, and a thin body. His…its eyes were slanted up on the outside, and they had a mirror-like sheen. I’d actually seen eyes that looked like that in one of the movies I watched decades ago. Those aliens were attacking Earth for the resources. Somehow I didn’t figure these guys were going to let us sneak a nuclear bomb onto their mother ship.
I stood at attention after I reached the president and saluted.
“At ease, soldier. Let me be the first to welcome you to Washington, Mister James.” The president extended his hand and grasped mine. There were flashes as cameras snapped pictures from the crowded sidewalk in front of the Pentagon. Most of them were reporters that had a special dispensation to be there.
“Thank you, sir,” I said, hoping the shell-shocked feeling I was having didn’t show through.
“I’d like to introduce you to a new friend of mine,” he said and motioned toward the alien. “This is Demodias, of the Iteneradii Republic. He has come to make us an offer and has a special interest in you, Mister James.”
The alien extended his hand with abnormally long fingers. I swallowed and grasped the outstretched hand.
His voice was high-pitched and faster than I could follow, but there was a device on the collar of the robe that spoke in a well-modulated English.
“It is an honor to greet you, Corbin James,” Demodias said. “Your name has been heard in the Great Halls with much anticipation.”
I swallowed again.
“I know,” the president said from beside me. “It’s a lot to take in.”
“Um, nice to meet you, too,” I said.
“I know your people are not happy to be out in the open,” Demodias said. “They worry for naught. All scans show no weapons except those of their men. But we should move inside, anyway. There are a great many things that must be discussed. Some of those things will involve you, Corbin James.”
I swallowed and looked over at the president of the United freakin’ States, who shrugged. He and the alien walked back toward the Pentagon,
and I followed with a sense of impending doom.
* * *
I could feel the collective sigh of relief from the security detail as we stepped into the building. I understood the feeling, because they had been out in the open, and that always leaves a person on security tense. Demodias had to duck to walk through the door as I followed them into a meeting room. I expected it to be filled with the top brass and all the president’s cabinet. What I found was a thin, grey-haired fellow with leather for skin. His large grey mustache reminded me of a show I used to watch about a guy and his sons running a ranch in Montana, or Colorado, or somewhere out west. The show was funny, and this guy looked like the father. If he sounded like Sam Elliot when he talked, I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to keep from laughing.
“What are you grinnin’ at, boy?” the old guy asked.
“Thank God,” I said. “I was worried you’d sound like Sam Elliot.”
He chuckled. “Watched that show, too.”
“Mister James,” President Cleaver said, “please have a seat. We are waiting on one other before getting started. She should be here in less than thirty minutes. I know you probably have questions, but let’s try and hold out until the lady gets here, as well.”
I sat down in one of the seats alongside the meeting table. I was across from the older guy, and I extended my hand. “Corbin James.”
He grasped my hand with a grin. “Cordell Olen, no relation to Mister Elliot. Although I do own a small ranch in Colorado.”
“Is that why you grew that mustache?”
“Absolutely not. I grew this mustache after watching a movie called The Shadow Riders. Had the beard and all back then.”
I laughed as I remembered the western he was talking about. It was an old one with Elliot and Selleck. “That’s fitting.”
“I thought so,” he said.
We both watched as Demodias and President Cleaver exited the room.
“Reckon his son was called Beaver?” Olen asked.
I snorted.
“Didn’t figure a youngster like yourself would get that one,” he said.
“I used to watch the old stuff when I was a kid. The nuns didn’t like the new TV shows. We watched a lot of Andy Griffith and Leave It to Beaver.”
“Nuns?”
“Raised in an orphanage,” I said. “Some people say the orphanage system is pretty bad, but I guess I got the only one that was worth a damn. I hear a lot about isolation and stuff when folks talk about it. What I had was thirty-three brothers and sisters.”
“I’ve heard some of the horror stories,” he said.
“We all have,” I said. “I think the nuns at St. Markus had heard them, too. I believe they set out to prove them wrong.”
He nodded. “So what do you think this is all about?”
“Honestly, I have no idea,” I said. “An ex-postal worker turned rancher from Colorado, an Army sergeant from Tennessee, and a middle-aged housewife from Kansas? There isn’t even a common thread for us to follow.”
“Only thing in common is the alien requested us by name.”
“That worries me,” I said. “If they requested us by name, how long have they been looking at us?”
“Bothers me too,” he said. “How long have they been out there studyin’ us?”
“That’s what I’m wondering.”
* * *
“Now your questions can be answered,” Demodias said as he sat awkwardly in a chair suited to a shorter person.
He and President Cleaver had returned with a petite, black woman named Robin McKenzie. Neither of us had gotten to talk to Robin before the two sat down at the meeting table. All I knew was that she was a housewife from Kansas, and she reminded me of one of the movie stars I had seen on TV. She had that same pixie-like face.
“I will get straight to the point,” Demodias said through the translator. “I am Demodias, Representative of the Iteneradii Republic. We wish to bring this system into the Republic. This is my secondary mission to your world. My primary mission is to recruit you, Corbin James, Robin McKenzie, and Cordell Olen. Please allow me to give you some information before you begin asking questions.”
I closed my mouth just before speaking.
He placed a small flat disc on the table, and the air above filled with stars.
“The Republic began fourteen thousand years ago with the joining of the Goleri and the Dest.”
The image of a star-filled sky was replaced by the image of two aliens. One looked to be insect-like; the other was humanoid. The humanoid race was short and wide, possibly from a high gravity world. The musculature seemed to indicate it. They were red-skinned, and their faces were wider than a human’s.
The insect-like race looked similar to a praying mantis, although the body was wider, and the front arms ended in a group of tentacles. Probably the equivalent of fingers.
“You probably do not want a complete history lesson of the Iteneradii Republic, but it is important to know that both of the founders were peaceful races who wanted to coexist. Iteneradii means ‘bringer of peace’ in the language of the Goleri. They formed the first governing body of the Republic, with representatives from each planet inhabited by either race. Thus the Republic was born. Each joining race adds their representatives to the Council. As new races are discovered that meet the regulations of the Republic, they are approached by an ambassador like myself.
“We have waited for Earth to meet the regulations, but you persist in fighting amongst yourselves. So we waited. Then the Makron were discovered. The Makron are conquerors.”
The image on the hologram changed to show a dark-skinned, humanoid figure that looked like most of our historic representations of a demon. Curved horns, elongated snouts, and a large number of teeth.
“The Makron consider all other races to be inferior and believe they should be enslaved or destroyed. They are very good at destroying. We were slow to react, and the Makron have spread from their systems into Republic space, taking system after system.”
“You need fighters,” Olen said.
“Yes, Cordell Olen.” The alien nodded his head to the rancher. “We need fighters. And we cannot wait until you have united under a single leader to recruit you.”
“I take it that’s one of the regulations?” I asked.
“It is.”
“I don’t see us meeting that anytime soon,” I said.
“You will have little choice,” he said. “The Makron are coming. If your world does not, as your president has stated, get your head out of your donkey, the Makron will destroy you.”
I opened my mouth to correct him, and Cleaver said, “Close enough, Demodias. The short of it is, the Makron will be here in less than twenty years. We don’t have time to finish reaching the point they want us to. They need us now. They need you three even more.”
“Why?” Robin asked. “I don’t know anything about war. I have children to raise. I’m in the PTA, for God’s sake.”
“That is why I am here,” Demodias said. “Over a hundred of your years ago, a Nackil scientist had a breakthrough in his field. He created a perfect melding of biology and machine. Biomechanical constructs.”
“Living machines?” I asked.
“Yes. His work was combined with the work of an Afronei scientist who had been researching artificial intelligence, and an Ubrik engineer’s breakthrough with what you would call antimatter.”
“That sounds ominous,” I muttered.
“Under the project, led by Jivailis Ord, they created a warship. It was powered by antimatter and constructed from a rare metal known as Kilsenar. It is the only thing that has ever been found that can coexist alongside antimatter. It made the perfect housing for an antimatter drive.
“This warship was constructed from Kilsenar with the techniques I spoke of earlier. It is a living vessel.’’
“Why do I sense a ‘but?’” Olen asked.
“You are correct,” Demodias said. “They found that the Artificial Intelligen
ce was not capable of reaching the level needed for it to be the only thing to control the vessel.”
“The ships need pilots,” I said.
“Yes.”
“Where do I sign up?” I asked.
“You have already decided?” Demodias asked. “It is much more complicated than signing up. There will be much training, and there is a chance that you will not be able to link with a vessel.”
“You’re saying you want me to pilot a living starship. I say hell yes.”
“Then we will find out if the genetic anomaly the three of you share will be enough for you to be accepted by one of them.”
“I’m not going out into space and leaving my children to help fight a war,” Robin said.
“The war will be here soon enough,” Demodias said. “Before you make your decisions, I would have you learn what it means to be conquered by the Makron. After you have seen, you may change your mind. I cannot force you to make the bond, but it is an honor to any amongst the Republic to have the anomaly that allows the bonding. It is rare to find a single being on a planet. Yet we find ten on this single planet. It is unheard of, but you have the ability to turn the tide of this war and prevent the Makron from ever reaching your world.”
“So what do you mean by linking to the ships?” Olen asked. He looked at me. “I admire your spunk, son, but I want to know what the hell they’re asking for before jumping right in. I managed to survive Viet Nam by studying the situation before diving headlong into a fight.”
“The fact that I get to go to space is enough for me,” I said.
“Still,” Olen said and turned back to Demodias. “Tell me about this link.”
* * *
“I’m not sure if I trust this link they’re talking about,” Olen said as we followed the president toward the alien shuttlecraft.
“Don’t know about the link, either,” I said. “But we’re about to get on a shuttle and go out there into space to get on a damned interstellar spaceship. Do you even believe this?”
The Dogs of God Page 31
