T-Plus 13  

  Even after several minutes of staring at the gray aliens, they didn’t move from their original spots. Oliver took a few careful steps forward, retreating every time he thought one of them moved his way. Either it was a trick of the light, or they really never twitched as he thought they did. He retreated back to the others after probing them and fished out one of the jars of pink alien matter from his backpack.

“What are you going to do with that?” Richardson asked as Oliver measured the distance with his flashlight.

“They’re not moving, so I’m going to make them move,” he replied as he chucked the jar just past where the pile of rubble they rested upon was.

  The glass jar sailed over the aliens’ heads, crashing and shattering on impact right where he aimed. Four beams of light were trained on the aliens, waiting for their reaction. The gray aliens closer to the bottom of the pile moved ever-so-slightly toward the direction of the broken jar and its contents, and maybe slid down toward it, but made no more effort when they reached the bottom of the pile of rubble.

“Wow,” Toast breathed in excitement. “Did they actually become living rocks?”

“Would the blowtorches burn them if they did become rocks?” Soup asked as a follow up.

“Neither idea sounds good,” Oliver said, stepping up again.

  He attempted another time to approach the pile of rubble, taking one step at a time. As he got closer, he reached for his trusty blowtorch and extended an arm for the tether that stuck out of the pile. When he bypassed the first alien, it didn’t react to him. He paused, staring right into its now gray sunken sockets. The empty holes stared right back, not bothering to move despite him being so close.

  Oliver took another step, passing it completely and putting it behind him. He reached for the tether and tugged, feeling the resistance of the whole pile’s weight on top of him. That was when they reacted.

  The technician heard Soup’s warning before he actually saw it. With the scientist’s shout, he dove backwards away from the pile, feeling something pass over his head and grazing his scalp. As he tumbled backwards, he heard the clatter of rocks rolling. When he straightened, he saw a cluster of pebbles where he had been standing and a massive dent from where they impacted, and the alien that he had passed had turned in his direction, a dribble of small pebbles still clinging to its “lips”.

“Oh great,” Oliver spat. “They can spit rocks now.”

“It makes sense,” Soup analyzed. “One of the aliens initially spat something at Jiang to injure him in the first place. Thinking back on it, it was probably spitting part of itself at him in an attempt to eat him as we ran away.”

“Not a pleasant thought,” Richardson remarked as the group retreated further from the pile. “It seems they pack quite a punch.”

  None of the other aliens had reacted yet, but the one alien that targeted Oliver had its eye sockets trained on him. Its mouth narrowed into a smaller circle, and they saw pebbles fly out of its mouth toward them. Oliver shoved the others back, the projectiles barely missing his toes. He could feel the front of his boots sinking into the newly created dent.

  Oliver shooed the others away, pointing at various points they could take cover behind. He kept his eyes on the alien, and it kept its focus on him. He took another step forward, only to roll sideways as another rocky missile came his way.

“It’s a good shot,” Toast commented from behind his hiding spot.

  The scientist poked his head out to observe the situation, sweeping his light across the corridor so he could see.

“Would the previous methods work in killing them?” Richardson asked from his own spot behind another pile of rubble to the right. His light was trained on the alien, making it easy for Oliver to keep an eye on it. “Or should we start devising alternatives?”

“Rocks are easy to break under heavy force,” Soup supplemented.

  Soup was hiding behind the same rubble formation as Toast’s, although he had a higher vantage point than the other scientist since he was quite a bit taller. Their conversation was carried in a volume that could reach the technician even as he focused on dodging pebbly spit bullets.

“Well, great,” Oliver said as he leapt away from another projectile. “Do you want me to try crushing them with my weight, or should I expect to break bones instead?”

“We wouldn’t know until you tried,” Toast said with glee.

“Easier suggestion would be to either squish them with another alien or under another pile of rubble,” Soup suggested.

“If they’re actually rocks, just kick them,” Richardson said. “We already saw they can’t move.”

  The two scientists went silent after the Navigator’s suggestion. Oliver didn’t bother looking behind him as another bombardment of pebbles flew his way, but he had a feeling the two were staring at Richardson with differing levels of astonishment. Either way, he’d only be able to know which one was best after trying all the methods out, starting with what he deemed as the safest first, of course.

  Oliver tucked and rolled under another wad of pebbly spit, just entering a range where he could take one more step and pat one of them on the head. He whipped the blowtorch at it, attempting to burn it.

  The flames licked the gray alien, a small wisp of smoke spurting from where it touched the alien for a split second before Oliver had to roll out of the way of its next shot. He was now crouched beside the tether again, situated at an awkward angle for the alien to hit him. From what he could see, the flames had done little to no damage. Well, first test was done. Status: failure.

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  He ducked behind a piece of rubble that protruded from the pile, the sound of pebbles crashing into it and then breaking from the force telling him that his hiding spot was compromised. Oliver rolled out of the way before another shot was aimed at him. Instead, he moved his backpack to the front and charged straight at the alien, jumping right as it spat another pebble-ladened spitball at him, and landed with his backpack cushioning the impact.

  As expected, the impact itself felt as bad as if he had cannonballed onto a large rock. Not very advisable. The sensation of landing itself was like landing on a rock-solid bed. You could feel it sink in, but it quickly stiffened and tightened to be as uncomfortable as possible. Also not advisable.

  Oliver groaned from the pain, but still managed to roll off of the alien when he felt its body rumble from under him. An unideal situation to be stuck in. He scrambled off of the rock pile, rolling all the way down until his back hit another pile of rubble.

“Are you okay?” Soup called from their hiding spot.

“I’m... fine,” Oliver grunted, rising onto his hands and knees.

  He rolled to the side, raising his arm to block the dust that flew when another shot landed beside him. Looks like even when he tried to crush it, the alien wasn’t even fazed. There was really only one test left.

  The technician stood, keeping his backpack in the front. If anything, if he missed it’d act like some form of armor. He waited for the next shot to launch before acting. Oliver ducked under the incoming projectile, diving towards the alien again, grimacing as the dive jarred his arms. He stood and rammed his shoulder against the gray alien.

  Despite having the hardness of a rock, it was much lighter than any piece of rubble Oliver had dealt with before. He stumbled from the weightlessness of it, watching as the alien tumbled from its position and roll off the pile of rubble. Its back was now on the ground and its face was facing the dark ceiling. It spat another shot of pebbles, but gravity brought its own spit back on its face, some of the pebbles lodging itself in the indents that served as its facial features.

  Unfortunately, as he watched, hoping that it would retain that orientation, the alien’s face moved from staring at the ceiling to turning and staring right at him again. Oliver blanched and dove off the pile of rubble as it spat in his direction. There went Plan C.

  He retreated back to the others, hiding beside Richardson as he took deep breaths. Oliver shrugged off his backpack, lifting his shirt to feel his bruised ribs. Yeah, he was going to feel that later. He was already feeling the consequences now.

“Are you okay?” Richardson asked, pointing his own flashlight down to give Oliver more light.

“I’ve been better.”

“Time for Plan D!” Toast said, dragging Soup with him to join their huddle.

“Can’t we just give up on the tether?” Richardson asked, looking at the three of them. “It’s not like there aren’t extras, right?”

“It’s not like those things are going to go away either,” Soup said. “We might as well take the chance to learn as much as we can now than leave and run into more of them later.”

  Richardson didn’t have a response to that. He only pursed his lips and looked at the three of them in silence as if they were aliens, not the ones spitting rocks that were behind them. Oliver ignored him. He was a Navigator and they weren’t. It was as simple as that.

  Oliver looked over the pile of rubble they were hiding behind, pointing his flashlight at the gray alien that had been disconnected from its own rock pile after he pushed it. As it turned in place toward them, the other aliens finally reacted. The sounds of rocks impacting hard surfaces echoed in the corridor, counting about four thundering thuds.

“Plan D better be good,” Oliver muttered, counting the number of impacts.

“Hmmm,” Toast hummed, flicking his flashlight over to the aliens to observe them for a moment. “I mean, you could try making them aim at each other?”

“You say that like it’s easy,” Oliver sighed, pushing himself off the ground.

  Soup volunteered to come with him this time, pushing Toast back behind their cover to keep him from doing so.

“I’ll come with you. At least, if they keep their attention on you, I can go and see what I can do. If not, I’ll just be another person to aim at.”

  He nodded at the brave scientist. It was better than nothing. With Oliver charging out first, straight at the alien who had spat its missile of rocks most recently, Soup followed up after him, wearing two backpacks, one in front and one on his back.

  Oliver dived under another projectile, gritting his teeth at the sharp pain that pulsed from his chest to the rest of his body. He rolled forward, shoving the alien that was closest to him off the pile where it joined the first alien. It landed with its face in the floor, and he and Soup ducked as it spat at the floor and rocketed itself into the ceiling.

  Toast had trained his light on it, and in the few seconds it took before they had to dodge another alien’s spit, they watched as it bounced off the ceiling with a loud thud and crashed back down on the alien that it’d been beside, creating cracks in both of them.

“That was a lucky accident,” Soup said, running for one of the other aliens that was on the other side of the rubble.

  The technician gave a nod as he kicked the next closest one off its rocky pedestal, hoping he’d get lucky again. He wasn’t. It landed with its face still toward him, lined up beside the other two. Now, if only they had a giant rock crusher of some sort, and he’d score a triple.

  He jumped off the pile of rubble again after that passing thought, dodging a series of two alien projectiles. A loud clatter from behind revealed Soup pushing his target toward where the three aliens were already lined up, causing all four of them now to tip over. Two faced the ceiling as the other two faced the pile of rubble, and their useless attempts of spitting more of their high velocity spit at the two humans were futile.

“Can you throw them at each other?” Oliver wondered out loud.

“One way to find out,” Soup said from the other side of the rubble, quoting today’s catchphrase.

  A moment later, after another round of an aimless rocky salute, a gray rock alien that looked like a piece of round rubble, that if Oliver hadn’t known better, flew from Soup’s direction and landed with a loud clatter on the other aliens. Some rolled further away, back toward where Toast and Richardson were hiding, while the others were only pushed aside. The two already damaged ones’ cracks expanded, and the lines on their bodies looked like grainy veins.

  As they spluttered in a rocky panic, Oliver took the chance to examine how badly their tether was stuck. Soup was chucking any of the maneuverable pieces at the aliens, lightening the load on top. Oliver did the same, calculating which ones would cause movement and how. After ducking under another barrage, now that the aliens were done orienting themselves again, he selected a heavier piece that was holding up the top portion of the rubble, and with a grunt, pulled it out and causing parts of what rested on top to cascade toward the aliens.

  He moved out of the dust that flew up from the action, waiting for it to die down again before pointing his light at the result. The pieces of rubble didn’t move. He didn’t see any moving rocks. And most importantly, he didn’t hear any sounds of flying rocks.

“You did it,” Soup said, his light approaching them from further down the corridor.

“Maybe. I don’t want to stay here for too long, so let’s get this tether out,” Oliver said, waving the other two to come over.

  With the four of them, they heaved the larger pieces off, dropping them on where the aliens rested, just in case. The tether was torn in a few places in the middle, making it a bit questionable, but there were methods to patch it together back in the Bay.

“Come on, let’s see what the others found,” Oliver said, slinging the cords over his shoulder.