by Ben Hammott
“I wonder where those things were dragging the co-pilot’s corpse,” pondered the colonel aloud.
“The mine is in the direction it was heading,” said Kathryn. “Which seems where the aliens have set up home.”
“But how would they know where the mine is,” asked Troy.
No one had an answer.
Blightburn turned back to the screens and briefly focused on the meteorite being hoisted off the truck onto a metal pallet. A forklift then carried it inside the quarantine tent close by. It would be a few minutes before the scientists were ready to proceed with its inspection. She switched her gaze to another screen. “Switch Novak’s POV back to the main screen.”
Yuri pressed a button.
All eyes in the room watched Novak slowly approach the cockpit doorway.
*
“The noise definitely came from the toilet,” stated Rob, aiming the flamethrower at the door.
A hushed slithering, like tall grass rustling in a gentle breeze, came from inside the cubical.
Novak pushed the end of the flamethrower away and reached for the door handle. “Probably just a branch rubbing on the fuselage.”
“That doesn’t explain the thump we heard,” argued Rob, grabbing her arm.
“No, but the pilot’s corpse settling might.”
Rob wasn’t convinced. “Let me go in first.”
As independent and headstrong as she was, Novak smiled and consented to the man’s chivalry. “Don’t let your nervousness do anything rash,” warned Novak. “We need more samples to beat this thing, and a charred lump won’t be of much use.” Ignoring the creepy sounds that came from within, she placed her hand on the door release and looked at Rob. “You ready?”
Beads of sweat had formed on his brow, and it wasn’t totally caused by the stifling suit he wore. “Not really.” Noticing the sounds from within had ceased when Novak touched the handle, it did nothing to reassure him he wasn’t about to see something he’d rather not.
Novak counted softly, “Three, two, one.” She opened the door wide.
Rob stepped into the doorway, his finger hovering a short squeeze from the trigger. The gruesome corpse of the pilot was propped on the toilet. His body and head were upright and rigid, his face aimed straight ahead, his clammy gray features reflected in the mirror above the sink opposite him. Keeping one eye on the corpse he expected to attack at any moment, Rob cautiously stepped inside the cramped space. He swept his gaze around the small cubical and checked each side of the toilet pan. Whatever had made the sounds, it was nowhere to be seen. As Novak had said, probably nothing but a branch rubbing on the fuselage. “It seems clear.”
Novak poked her head in and looked at the corpse. “This must be the pilot.”
“Affirmative,” confirmed Blightburn. “The files have just come through. The co-pilot’s corpse was outside and is now on its way back to the lab. Are there any tendrils on him? The ones in the co-pilot were dragging him somewhere.”
Rob stepped out to let Novak enter. Without getting too close, she examined the corpse. “There are small rips in his clothes and skin, and a little blood, which I assume indicates they are present, but none are visible. I’d like to take a look inside him to know what we are dealing with and grab a sample for a second team to study before the lab boys get hold of it.”
“Permission granted, but be careful. Once you are done, the cleanup team will take over and remove it. I’m sending them to you now.”
“Understood. I’ll only need a couple of minutes.
Returning from searching the rear of the plane, Erickson and Fisher approached the others gathered around the toilet doorway.
“Hold was empty,” informed Erickson. Peering into the washroom, he balked at the sight of the dead man. “Now that is damn creepy.”
Fisher squeezed past for a look and, after a few moments contemplation, nodded at the corpse. “Doesn’t anyone else see something wrong with this scene?”
“Quite a lot actually, but what are you specifically referring to?” asked Novak, placing her sample retrieval case on the sink and opening it.
“This airplane has just crashed, spectacularly from all accounts, before becoming wrapped around a tree, and yet, that corpse still sits upright on the toilet. He should, at the very least, be sprawled on the floor after being thrown around so violently.”
Contemplating Fisher’s observations, Novak studied the corpse. He had a point. She reached out and pushed his head to the side, and it flopped onto his shoulder. The body slid, thumping its head on the wall, the sound similar to the one they had heard a few minutes ago. “He’s definitely dead. Perhaps the sudden stop when the plane hit the tree flung him back into his sitting position?”
Fisher shook his head doubtfully. “It would be a one in a million chance if it did.”
“Stranger things have happened,” commented Novak doubtfully.
She took a syringe from the case and drew a blood sample from the pilot’s neck. After placing it in a plastic container and sealing it, she wrote the sample information on the lid and put it in the case.
She examined the blood-tinged rips in the man’s clothing.” “I’m assuming, as I am sure you are, Control, that they were made by the tendrils breaking through.”
“I concur,” replied Blightburn.
“I’m going to cut away the clothing.” Selecting a pair of scissors from the case, angled and sharp with rounded tips, Novak snipped off the pilot’s tie and the shirt buttons. She spread his shirt open and folded it back. His chest was covered with small dots of blood, tiny cuts. She gasped and stepped back, barging into the sink when something beneath the skin moved. The tendrils had sensed her. Taking a scalpel from the case, she placed the blade below his neck and drew it down the chest. The cut bulged open when pale tendrils seeped out.
Although Novak had expected to see them, it was still a shock that caused her to keep her distance.
As if surprised they were free of the restrictive confines of their host, the tendrils unfurled. They stretched into the air and turned their tips to point at Novak.
As fascinated as she was concerned, Novak leaned a little closer.
“I’ve never seen anything like it,” uttered Blightburn.
Novak studied the tendrils. “I’m not sure if they are parasite organisms or some type of parasitic plant fungus.”
“The sample I suggest you collect quickly will tell us.”
“Collecting it now.”
Novak turned to Erickson and handed him a large sample container. “I don’t want to fumble about trying to put it in on my own, so hold it ready, and I’ll snip one off.”
Wary of the creepy tendrils, Erickson nodded.
Armed with a set of large tweezers and scissors, Novak prepared to collect a sample and picked out the one she would cut off. When the tools got close to the tendrils, they stopped waving to and fro and seemed to be studying her hands. She moved the tweezers back and forth. They followed the movement. “You seeing this, Control?”
“I am. Fascinating. I see no sign of eyes, but they are obviously aware of their surroundings.”
When Novak moved the tweezers nearer, the tendrils leaned away. As if elected to check it out, one of them stretched for the tweezers and rubbed its tip against the metal. It then looked at the gloved hand holding it and snaked toward it.
Although capable of making holes through normal clothing, Novak didn’t think the tendrils could penetrate the strengthened suit. However, with caution aforethought, she wasn’t willing to take the risk and put it to the test. It writhed in protest when she grabbed it with the tweezers.
Novak was surprised when the other tendrils retreated into the body. They knew they were being attacked.
As Novak prepared to detach the worm, tendrils, thicker than the others, poked tips from the holes across the body, distracting her from her task. One shot out and wrapped around the wrist of the arm holding the tweezers. It curled tighter. Remaining calm, her tweezer
captive whipped back inside the body when she released it. She tugged her arm slightly as other larger tendrils seeped out. The tendril held her fast. Suddenly, another one shot out and snatched the scissors from her other hand, bending her finger back painfully in the process; she was in trouble.
She focused her concern on the tip of the tendril that held her when it pulled its head back like a cobra about to strike and thinned its tip into a point.
“For Christ’s sake, someone help her!” ordered Blightburn.
“What’s happening?” asked Norris, his view blocked by Erickson filling the doorway.
Shaken from his inaction, Erickson asked, “What shall I do?”
“Get ready with the container.” Fearing it wouldn’t bode well for her if the pointed tendril struck and pierced her suit, Novak grabbed the stalk with her other hand and yanked on it. Pulled free of its host, the plant retaliated and tried to stab Novak’s facemask. Having no trouble holding it at a safe distance but keen to be free of it, Novak glanced at its bulbous bloodstained base she imagined engorged with the pilot’s blood, or worse. She had seen enough. In three swift movements, she shoved it into the sample container Erickson held out, grabbed a scalpel from the case, and sliced at the tendril wrapped around her hand. The plant released its grip as soon as the sharp tip made contact. Erickson slammed the lid on, trapping it.
Novak dodged the corpse tentacles whipping at her. They seemed intent on rescuing the one taken from them. Stumbling back from their reach, she almost knocked Erickson off his feet. She grabbed her sample case and moved into the corridor. At a safe distance, they watched the tentacles writhe, angrily it seemed, with their tips aimed at their aggressors. Tendrils latched onto the doorframe and pulled the pilot from the toilet seat. He thudded to the floor, sending the stunned human onlookers scurrying to a safe distance.
Footsteps turned their heads to the two men from the cleanup team approaching.
“Sorry, we seemed to have pissed them off,” apologized Norris.
Placing the body-sized casket on the floor, Jason glanced at the worm-infested corpse. “Nothing we can’t handle. If you lot step back to give us room, we’ll get on with it.”
Leaving them to their task, Novak led her team outside. They gathered around the transparent sample container Erickson held up. The thing inside was probing its prison as if searching for a weakness.
“It looks very plantlike?” commented Norris.
“Predatory and carnivorous as it obviously is, it seems a bit aggressive for a plant,” commented Novak. “However, it’s not from Earth, so who knows what it is.”
“If it’s an example of the typical fauna on its homeworld, I wouldn’t like to visit the planet it came from,” uttered Fisher. “Just imagine how dangerous the trees would be.”
Erickson tapped the side of the container. With surprising speed, the tendril retaliated and stabbed its tip where his finger had made contact. “Whatever they are, they seem to have intelligence as it took the scissors, which it likely perceived as a weapon.”
“Are you okay, Novak?” interrupted Blightburn.
“I’m fine. The attack was unexpected and a bit scary, but we learned something.”
“We did indeed. They’re aggressive little critters that shouldn’t be underestimated.”
Novak turned her head to the cleanup team exiting from the plane carrying the casket.
“Have the cleanup team bring your specimen and the other samples you collected back to the lab, and I’ll have the autopsy team work on them. We must find a way to beat this thing ASAP.”
“Understood, ma’am.”
Erickson handed the specimen to the cleanup team.
“The blood and the cat corpse on the plane will need taking care of for obvious reasons,” added Novak.
“A team is already on the way to decontaminate the plane and the surrounding area. As we can’t risk leaving a drop of blood, a single hair, or piece of clothing that might be infected, they’ll incinerate it all. Then the scrap will be hauled to the airbase for final decontamination. Team 2 followed Kelly’s trail to the abandoned mine, but because of what is in there, I forbade them to enter. Coordinating with team 3, they are currently doing a sweep from the mine for contaminates and working their way back to you. I want you and your team to join them. If you find anything that might be contaminated, mark its position, and burn it. Once that is done, head back to base for the next phase of operations.”
“Understood, Control.” Novak led her team down the hill.
CHAPTER 29
Meteorite
Three men dressed in Blue Protection Suits, one armed with a flame thrower, stood ready to enter the transparent plastic quarantine tent while the seals of their suits were checked. Inside the tent, the meteorite rested on the metal pallet it had been placed upon when it was unloaded from the breakdown truck parked nearby. Along one side of the tent was a bench loaded with scientific equipment. Beside the meteorite was a thirty-two-inch TV on a stand with high definition video camera affixed to the top aimed at the crack in the meteorite.
Positioned on each exterior side of the square tent were four soldiers also armed with flamethrowers. If any alien creatures emerged from the rock and their teammate within failed to turn it to ash, it was up to them to destroy anything that strived to escape.
“You are ready to proceed,” said Klade Heisenberg, a colleague of the two scientists about to examine the meteorite.
With their eyes nervously fixed on the meteorite clearly visible through the transparent wall, the two men stepped up to the entrance. Both had been briefed about the Xtros and been shown the footage a civilian had captured of them coming out of it.
Savio Perez slid the zipper around the curved top doorway, folded back the flap, and stepped inside.
William Thurman waved the soldier with the flamethrower inside and followed him in. Heisenberg remained outside and resealed the zippered doorway.
Perez pressed the record button on the camera and, crossing to the rock, took position by the gunpowder-blackened crack. Thurman picked up the keyhole surgery micro camera from the tool tray attached to the TV stand and handed it to Perez.
Perez looked at the TV his colleague switched on and checked the image, moving the camera over the rock. The high definition image was impressive. He spoke into his helmet mic. “Control, I’m about to go in. Confirming you have visual?”
Blightburn, who was in the comms trailer watching the feed from the video camera, responded immediately. “Affirmative on visual. Proceed.”
Perez placed the micro-camera in the crack. The LED lights around the lens banished the darkness within. He focused his gaze on the screen as he slowly fed it inside.
Perez narrated for the record. “Not seeing a lot except for soot-covered rock.” He maneuvered the camera around a protruding lump, and a few inches farther in, entered a space. Manipulating the controls, he panned around the interior. “As far as I can tell, the cavity looks about fourteen inches across and about twelve high.” He aimed the camera at the charred remains of something littering the base of the chamber. “It’s difficult to say for certain due to the destruction, but these look like the burnt carcasses of the Xtro species that climbed out.”
“I concur,” agreed Blightburn, peering at the burnt shells that all were unaware had died eons ago to protect the Alpha during its long journey through the universe. She shivered at the thought of the damage they could have done roaming free and infecting every living thing they met. Perhaps she had misjudged Richard’s knack for eliminating alien threats.
When Perez moved the camera closer, he accidentally nudged one of the creepy-looking objects. “It’s brittle, like melted plastic that has cooled. I’m going to take a sample.”
Thurman handed him a long thin, flexible rod with a button on one end and a retracted three-pronged claw on the other.
Perez slid it into the crack and pulled back the camera slightly. When the grabber appeared, he maneuvered it to one
of the glossy black corpses and pressed the spring-loaded button. Three small prongs emerged from the tip and spread out. Perez placed the prongs over one of the Xtro caresses and slowly released the pressure on the button to close the prongs. He slowly lifted, but the creature’s remains had melded to some of those around it, forming a cluster of corpses. He would have trouble fitting one of the bodies through the crack, there would be no chance with a congealed group. As he only needed a small sample to test, he tried to shake a piece free. The jolted mass slipped from the grabber and disintegrated into ash. The disturbance caused a chain reaction, crumbling all the others into dark dust that settled at the bottom of the chamber.
Perez cursed.
“Frustrating, I know, but it couldn’t be helped,” commented Blightburn. “From what I just witnessed, they would have been too fragile for you to get it out through the crack.”
“I’ll collect a sample of ash in case it reveals something, and then take some swabs around the chamber. With the degree of heat that has been generated, it’s unlikely anything would have survived.” Perez glanced at the camera. “Once that is completed, we’ll check for other cracks and cavities and swab the exterior for microorganisms.”
Back in the Comms trailer, Blightburn turned her head to Colbert entering. “Okay, Perez, keep me updated with your findings.”
“We are just about to head off,” informed Colbert. “Have you found out anything that might help us?”
“A little,” replied Blightburn. “The Xtros might not be animals as we would look at them on Earth, but some species of alien plant, possibly a combination of the two.”
Colbert’s eyebrows rose at the news.
“One of the tendrils infecting the pilot’s corpse attacked one of my team, who thankfully was unhurt by the experience. We have retrieved the body from the aircraft, and he is being examined as we speak. We should soon have more information on how the alien infects its victims and, hopefully, a way to separate it from its host.”
“What about the co-pilot and Kelly, do you have them?”
