20:30 Hours Ship Time.
The day wasn’t over yet either.
Everyone was transported to the Kl’Deesius as soon as Marlon reported all systems secured and on stand-by, and once the Tau Ceti was settled into a stable high Earth orbit. It wasn’t only the humans that were suffering, as Stephen had witnessed once he arrived, and it also answered his question about how Miradima had reacted.
“I had not expected to see this,” she said quietly, her English flawed and her voice uneven although this was hardly surprising given how emotional she was at the time. “So much loss of life…”
Clearly she could not continue to speak.
“What the hell happened?” John found himself asking.
“Sensor data just came in from Ops,” Davidson replied gruffly, dropping the appropriate data pad onto the console by the transporters. “Two separate nuclear attacks, twenty-five years apart. The last was twenty-six years ago.”
“But shouldn’t the dust clouds have cleared by now?” Adam asked.
“They should have… If the weapons used were similar to what we knew about when we left fifty years ago.”
“What?” Marlon found himself asking.
“I looked over the sensor data myself. The contamination is from a dirty nuke,” Davidson replied. “The type of nuke designed to irradiate areas for centuries. Someone must have designed one big enough for a global strike… Or a group of them.”
Davidson’s description was coldly logical. Stephen could understand why he was this way… Stephen himself did not want to dwell on his own emotions otherwise he’d be useless to everyone.
Helen did not agree.
“What’s the matter with you?” She whispered hoarsely, eyes puffy from crying.
“What?” Davidson asked, stony faced.
“YOU COLD BASTARD!”
“Get a grip!” Stephen called out. “Give him a break!”
“What the hell is wrong with you people?” she retaliated, despite Marlon’s warning squeeze on her shoulder. “Look at our home!”
“What do you expect us to do?” Davidson snapped. “Fall apart?”
Miradima, head hanging in despair, gripped Davidson’s arm, and his head drooped.
“We can’t afford to fight among ourselves,” Adam said into the silence that followed. “We have to deal with what’s happening now.”
“You tell me how,” Helen said quietly.
The silence was unbearable.
Stephen couldn’t take it any more. He stomped toward the door, and marched out as quickly as he could so as he could be alone.
“Stephen,” Miradima called, but he did not respond.
Even when he found somewhere quiet, he still could not let himself go.
He was just too numb.
04:05 Hours Eastern Time, Day 83
Since the massive genocidal take-over of the staff and population from the Phoenix Shelter, little progress had been made by the survivors. Janet managed to see everyone to the VIP Shelter that they were initially trying to evacuate to, and she had been encouraged that the shelter was in a stable, working condition. As well as this, her guards had managed to make contact with those stragglers that had somehow managed to escape the fate her own people had suffered. They had banded together and the new shelter was populated by fifty-three people.
However, in the last few days, the situation was beginning to get desperate again. Janet had received reports from all sections that the enemy were on the move again, and had claimed more bodies as their own. With only a few support staff and twenty soldiers left out of the entire complement of the shelter, the situation was indeed grim.
The last thing she wanted to hear was the ranting’s of a silly old fool who she was humouring because he could build useful devices.
“I got a signal!” Edward Mensar called out from across one of the rooms. “I got a contact!”
“What are you talking about now Edward?” Janet sighed, expressing very little patience. “This had better be good.”
“I got a signal in orbit!” He replied ecstatically. “They’re back from their trip!”
“Who, Edward?”
“I don’t know which ship it is yet ‘til I contact them,” he replied. “But I bet it’s one of those I.S.S Missions they launched half a century ago.”
“And what good will they do us? Even if they’re there, what good will six or seven other people do for a planet that’s already half-dead?” She had been briefed on their mission by one of her older officers who had maintained records while still in the old shelter. It seemed that the founder of the bunker had a son who had been sent off on one of these missions and it was from his own personal records that the logistics of these missions was stored.
“They might have allies. And even if not they still got technology from fifty years ago that we’ve lost. They might be able to help us.”
Janet didn’t have time for this. Let him tinker if he wanted while she continued with trying to keep everyone else alive. “Do what you want Edward, just don’t use any of the generators marked for the shelter,” she suspected that Edward would probably be able to build his own makeshift unit from the wrecks of others nearby.
23:00 Hours ISS Tau Ceti Ship Time, day 83.
It had taken some time to organise things sufficiently, but by the end of the following day, the human crew had arranged sufficient communication links with the two vessels so that they could operate and monitor Tau Ceti communications channels from either vessel, in the hope that someone might be able to contact them. To this end, Adam established a standardised identification signal from the Tau Ceti so that it would be properly identified by anyone able to send and receive space-bound com traffic. Just as well, since within an hour of doing so, an automated distress call began transmitting from an area within the Eastern Seaboard.
It was decided that an expedition team would be sent to the surface in the hopes that whoever had set off that distress signal would be alive and able to tell them all what had happened to start this whole mess.
“The only problem we got right now is in finding their exact location,” Marlon commented as details were passed between the humans and Klankharii attending this meeting. “They could be anywhere in the States!”
“There’s a way around that,” Adam replied. “Their signal is still sending. We can use our NAV systems to triangulate the signal’s rough location, down to within a few hundred metres, and begin a search of the area that way.”
“How long do you need to set it up?” Marlon asked.
“Twenty minutes.”
“Do so,” then he turned to Miradima. “Can we do it from here?”
“Yes,” Miradima nodded as she replied.
“We should be ready to travel down to the surface as soon as possible.”
“I want you to take a team of my defenders to the planet,” Miradima added.
Marlon looked back in puzzlement. “Say again?”
“We cannot have all of you risking your lives on the surface. I strongly suggest only two of you go to the surface, and there could be unforeseen dangers that may require an adequate defence.”
Stephen could see a problem with that. “Don’t you think the survivors, assuming there are any, might think that the presence of the escort means we’re being invaded?”
Marlon agreed. “Could present a problem when trying to recover them,” he added.
After a moment, Miradima replied. “Yes, maybe it might be less problematic if we have the team keep a safe distance?”
“Maybe,” Marlon replied. “We also have to-”
A communication bleep interrupted their conversation. “Bridge to Ship Commander.”
Miradima rolled her eyes as she tapped a panel on her desk. “Go ahead.”
“Passive scan has detected multiple signals in system,” the tactical officer told Miradima, paused ominously. “Organic traces have been found.”
Miradima’s stance changed abruptly. “Battle stations, Full tactical alert,” she called out as she turned to Marlon. “We have to move immediately.”
“What’s happening?”
“I’ll explain when you return. Decide who is going and get to the transporter room immediately. I’ll have a detachment of my forces standing by to go when you get there,” Miradima told him.
“Stephen, with me,” Marlon ordered.
Phoenix, Arizona
23:10 Hrs Ship Time, Day 83
By the time Stephen and Marlon arrived on the surface, the defence teams were already there and ready to move. As one, they approached the derelict city. Stephen, having once lived here before his journey to the Tau Ceti system, found it difficult to come to terms with the devastation all around him.
A voice issued from one of the officers’ communicators. “Davidson to Captain Greenfield.”
Marlon tapped his own communicator. “Go ahead.”
“Good news and bad news. Good news is that I’ve just been given coordinates for the distress signal.”
Marlon waited. “And the bad news?”
“Miradima says we got less than twenty minutes to get everyone on board.”
“Understood,” Marlon replied, turned to the others, and in clearly enunciated Klankharii, added, “Did you all get that? Let’s go!”
They all began to fall in step as they left their position, one of the soldiers carrying a device that pointed the direction to the coordinates that had just been transmitted to them.
They reached the position of the distress beacon in eleven minutes. Immediately, the soldiers were all alert. Neither of the humans understood what was going on, but whatever it was had put all of the Klankharii people on their guard, which was worrying for everyone.
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They entered the building where the signal was coming from, and travelled level by level through its’ depths, eventually arriving at a room where two old and shoddy generators were growling away, powering a small computer terminal which was connected to an internal radar-type dish. This must be the communications room, Stephen thought.
Suddenly, out of nowhere, a haggard looking man appeared in the room. Stephen looked hard at him. His face looked as if he was emaciated and half-dead, but his body was rippling with muscle. It was as if the head of a dead guy had been stitched on to the body of a Mr Universe competitor.
One of the soldiers raised his weapon to fire, and immediately collapsed to the ground. Before anyone could react, the deformed human had already fired a pistol at the guard, shooting him in the head. He was turning his weapon on others, but before he could fire again, six searing energy beams tore through him and he collapsed to the ground. Marlon stood between the soldiers and the dead man.
“Dammit, he was scared!” He called out, though they knew no English.
“That man is not who he seems,” the soldier replied in Klankharii, his tone was obviously anxiety-laden.
Indeed he was not. Stephen noticed that his corpse was beginning to rise. Stephen could not move, as he watched a purple hue envelop the body, and a luminous mist began to seep from it, swirling in the air. Then after half a minute, and the mist was several centimetres away from the body, the whole mist cloud suddenly darted toward the body of the Klankharii soldier that the man had killed previously. At this point, Stephen was grappled and dragged out of the area. The soldiers had taken it upon themselves to evacuate the humans from the facility, their weapons trained on the changing form of their fallen comrade, but for some reason, they did not open fire. Marlon had caught up with Stephen who, now he was free of his fear-induced paralysis, began running on his own.
“What the hell was that?” Marlon asked hoarsely of the nearest soldier in their language.
“Possessors. Our nemesis,” the soldier replied, oozing hatred and hostility. “We can explain back on ship but we must leave before they realise where we’ve come from!”
They continued running until they exited the building, then began heading out of the city. As they all continued to run, Stephen found himself flying through the air, having been tripped up by someone or something. One of the soldiers was sprawled alongside him. The others trained their weapons at the source, only to find that it was a young woman who had attacked them. Now she attached herself to Stephen, and was busily trying to strangle him.
“RELEASE HIM!” An authoritative voice roared over the scuffle. As one, everyone, including the assailant, looked over toward the source. Stood near a building was another young woman, flanked by two men armed with shotguns, and eight others armed with makeshift weapons of varying types. One young man, armed with a well-engineered crossbow, had a particularly cold look that held a hint of suppressed rage.
The girl released Stephen and darted back to the group that had just appeared. However, all of them continued to train their weapons on the two humans and detachment of Klankharii soldiers, who themselves had their weapons trained on the group of humans. Four soldiers flanked Marlon and Stephen, as if offering them some form of cover.
Stephen had several moments to consider the difference between the “possessed” hosts and these pathetic humans. Most of them had battle scars, including the woman who took centre stage. Her left cheek had several slash scars all the way down to her jaw line, probably from knife weapons of various sorts. Many of them had fresh wounds, and one of them had lost an arm, possibly in battle. All of them were so obviously undernourished, that Stephen was amazed they had survived this far. It surprised him that the young girl that had tripped him up had the strength to do so.
The woman standing between the two human soldiers stepped forward. She must be their leader, Stephen thought.
“Who are you?” she asked.
Marlon looked at Stephen. “Get ready to request transport Stephen,” he said, turning back to the others. “I am Captain Greenfield of-”
“What are you doing here?”
Stephen answered immediately. “We’ve come home to find it destroyed!” His tone was barely civil.
There was a silence that was almost unbearable. Wind howled through the skeletal remains of buildings, and it seemed to be getting stronger. “Who are they?” the woman asked.
“Allies,” Marlon replied. “They had come to escort us home.”
“What are you implying?”
“I’m stating a fact that our planet is destroyed.”
“You keep saying that,” the woman said without inflection. “We’re alive, aren’t we? We’re still here and when we get those bastards off our planet we’re gonna rebuild-”
“Oh, wake up would you people? Look around you!” Marlon replied heatedly. “There’s no sunlight! It should be full day now! Where’s the rain? Clouds full of radioactive dust, nuclear winter, there are no animals or other creatures left, and I can’t even see a single blade of grass ANYWHERE! You still insist that we’ve got a living planet? Earth is DYING!”
The woman stepped forward again. “Earth might be dying, but it’s OUR world and I am not gonna let it go!” The resilience of this woman was astounding, and Stephen could feel his throat constrict. He swallowed hard.
“We have to leave immediately,” one of the soldiers told Marlon in Klankharii.
Stephen groaned inwardly.
“What the hell was that?” the woman asked. “You’re those freaks, that take over people’s bodies, aren’t you?” within an instant she had her weapon trained on Marlon.
He didn’t even flinch as he made his reply. “They leave someone else’s body in a cloud of bright purple mist, right? They take over the body of another and it looks like their mist is being absorbed into it?”
The silence lasted for some time. “Yes,” she eventually replied.
“I watched one of those things take over a member of our allied detachment here,” Marlon replied. “We don’t have time to debate this. Come back with us, we can protect you.”
“No-one can protect-” she stopped as she caught sight of something.
Stephen turned to look. It was the Klankharii soldier that had been killed. His body had been mutated. His head was the same as before, but his body had been enlarged, almost inflated. The distortion was far less pronounced than the assailant that had killed the soldier in the first place, which lent credit to the comments that these “possessors” can adapt quickly. Stephen wasted no time in sending the signal for an immediate transport and began giving the additional numbers for all the survivors present. It was just as well he did, because the possessed Klankharii was running at a frightening speed toward them, and was almost upon the group when they were all transported out of the area.
They all re-materialised on a large-scale transporter pad in what seemed to be one of the Kl’Deesius’ cargo bays, metallic-walled with solid plasteel flooring. Understandably, the surviving Earth-bound humans reacted aggressively.
“Where the hell are we now?” the woman demanded.
“In a safe place,” Marlon replied.
“Where?” she insisted. “And what the hell do you intend to do with us?”
“You’re not our captives,” Marlon immediately replied. “You saw that soldier running toward us; you know how fast they can move. The only safe way out of there was to bring you here.”
“I could’ve taken care of myself-”
“And the rest of your people?”
The doors opened and admitted several others, but the main group was too busy to notice the new arrivals.
“My people are MY responsibility! I don’t need your help, we can beat these bastards! If you hadn’t have turned up, then we could’ve lay low for a few more weeks out there-”
“SILENCE!” The voice was Miradima’s. “This is my vessel and I will not have petty arguments while we’re on board!”
The woman looked back at Marlon. “Vessel? Where the hell are we?”
It was Miradima who answered. “We are orbiting the Earth.”
There was a lengthy silence. “What the hell?” the woman reacted, snapping in clipped tones. “We’re in space?!”
The others reacted with varying degrees of distress.
“Correct,” Miradima replied.
“What kind of a trick is this?”
“See for yourself,” Miradima then walked to the nearest console and operated the controls. Immediately, a flash of green light appeared across one of the big walled sections on the far side of the bay, before the wall suddenly slid into the cargo bay and down into the floor. What everyone saw was a view of space, with hundreds of bright tiny stars shining in the night. “Do you wish further proof?”
No one said anything, neither Stephen nor Marlon because they were observing the others’ reactions, and the surviving humans because they did not know how to react. In the meantime, the Klankharii soldiers began to withdraw from the cargo bay, holstering their weapons as they did.
“Right,” Miradima continued. “You will all need medical treatment, and I suspect that many of you could use a good meal. Shall we?” She asked, gesturing in the direction of the inner doors, at the same time as activating the control panel she stood by. The cargo bay door began to close as everyone left.