Alutia Rising, Anniversary Edition (Alutia Rising Series, Book 1) (5 page)

So today, Daniel, as punishment for
disrespecting a senior female officer, “though she didn’t think it
disrespect before I broke off our relationship, that bloody...” he
gritted his teeth, knowing there was little he could do except
watch recruitment grounds x17a, and make sure none of the “filth”
pass the TSB’s trials. He didn’t necessarily hate, per say,
Earthlings, but he felt little attachment to those raised in her
bosom. Since he had been plucked from an Earth orphanage at a very
young age and raised with TSB Earth Base’s orphanage. He was the
best, and he knew it, and being forced to have to pick from people
he considered trash to be his compatriots...bothered him to no
end.

The latest candidate approached a long
abandoned train maintenance station, recruitment grounds X17a,
consisting of a group of rotting buildings to the left, used at one
time to store spare parts and worker housing, and a fueling silo to
the right, with a rusted ladder and broken spigot. Daniel finalized
the initial testing parameters that he'd found to be most effective
at removing unqualified candidates, then waited patiently for the
Program in charge of recruitment to approve.

The initial testing phase was simple. A
robotic representation of an alien race, usually a member of the
Anti-Sapien Unification, or ASU, would appear from the silo. The
creature would then attack the candidate, attempting to provoke him
into fleeing. If the candidate tried to escape, he was immediately
disqualified and the robotic alien was allowed to hunt the runner
to make sure no word about the testing location returned to Earth's
native authorities. If the candidate stood his ground, or tried to
fight back, the robotic alien would flee into the building across
from the refueling silo. The candidate must then follow the alien
into the building for the start of the second phase of the
recruitment trial. Though if he does not, and tries to continue on
or flee, the robotic alien will attack again, only fleeing back to
the building if there is continued resistance. Eventually, the
Program will allow the robotic alien to destroy said human when
enough time has passed, or the Program deems the candidate a lost
cause.

Daniel continued studying the figure
approaching the starting point, a grim satisfaction flowing through
him at the knowledge that another piece of human garbage would soon
take their last breath.

His hand hovered impatiently over the red
activate icon, waiting for the Program to acknowledge the
candidate. Seconds ticked by as the figure approached the point of
no return and with an annoying, but satisfying, chime, the icon
turned green.

With an expectation for a good show, Daniel
pressed the activate icon just as the man tripped over a railroad
crossbeam, falling flat on his face. Daniel broke into hysterical
laughter, holding his sides as he leaned back, prepared to enjoy
the show.

Millions of sparkling stars exploded before
Trent's eyes, like a galaxy had just been born within Earth’s
atmosphere the moment his head struck the unforgiving gravel. He
lay motionless, recovering what little wit he had left, before
rising to his feet, wiping away the tiny stones that still clung
reluctantly to his cheek.

“Damn railroad,” he muttered, kicking at the
track he was most certain had purposely moved to trip him. He
missed his target, losing his balance in the process, and tumbled
into the dense growth of thorny bushes that lined the tracks
edge.

“Son of a...” His vision spun when he tried
to curse, causing his stomach to tense.

He quickly swallowed down the rapidly
increasing saliva, fighting his bodies urge to expel the excessive
tequila that filled his belly. But the urge was just too strong. He
hastily rolled over, aiming towards a gap in the bush in which he
was tangled.

After his convulsions finally ceased, and the
meager contents of his stomach were no longer staring ominously at
him from the ground below, he began untangling himself from the
bush’s grasping branches. Once clear, he stumbled back to the
center of the old railroad, returning his gaze to the object that
had held his fascination, an old silo, now only 30 meters ahead.
He'd been wondering for a time what it was, and now that he could
clearly see it, a strange thought appeared in his muddled mind,
which he had to voice.

“I wonder if it’s full of booze?” his
questioning words were slurred, his reasoning, that of a drunk. But
the idea did revitalize him. He had just finished his last bottle
of booze a few kilometers back. Steadying himself, a new resolve
washing over to clear free any doubt, he started trotting
forward.

When the last of the dense growth paralleling
the railroad track cleared, a grouping of dilapidated buildings
came into view, barely holding at bay the encroaching forest.

On the opposite side of the tracks from the
silo of booze stood a large square building with a slightly
slanting roof, rusting away, the years having not been kind. Beyond
this building stood an old style train maintenance bay, abandoned
countless years before, rotting away, massive holes in its roof and
collapsing walls. Surrounding the maintenance bay stood many
foundations, full of rotting wood and debris, no longer holding any
clue of what their past purpose may have been.

Movement caught Trent's eye, originating from
the base of the silo. He stumbled to a stop, attempting to steady
his swaying with hand, while shading out the blinding sun with the
other.

“What on Earth is that?” Trent slurred with
wonder, his mind unable to fully grasp the sight he now beheld.

At the base of the silo, twitching its
massive limbs, stood a towering, grayish-green insect that looked
eerily like a praying mantis. Atop its long, skinny neck stood a
tiny head with one giant, multifaceted eye. The head swiveled back
and forth, turning towards the slightest sound or movement, seeming
unable to determine if the rustling leaves and clinking metal that
the slight breeze created were actually threats. Its elongated
abdomen, like that of an ant, glistened in the afternoon sunlight,
as if its skin was made of a metal alloy. Two arms, that looked to
be razor sharp, flicked straight out at an unbelievable speed,
slicing a pigeon in half that just happened to fly too close,
before slowly retracting back into the torso. Six, spider-like
legs, but with four joints instead of two, lined the abdomen,
skittering across the dirt covered ground, the creature ready to
attack at the first sign of prey.

More baffled then fearful at the sight of the
giant, insect-like creature, Trent's drunken mind reasoned an
explanation beyond any logical understanding.

“There must be booze......only explanation
for guard...” Trent garbled as he swayed, pulling a carbon nanotube
rod from his sack, then proceeded to charge the beast.

Daniel stared in utter disbelief, unable to
fathom the hobo's reaction when presented with the robotic
representation of a krakllian, the most feared species of the
Anti-Sapien Unification. In his experience, no candidate had ever
survived when faced with the krakllian, all having fled at first
sight to be hunted like the trash they were.

What sane man would charge an unknown
beast such as this?
Daniel wondered, but shook off the thought,
knowing this man was most likely not sane.

Feeling a rising disgust at the mere thought
that an insane hobo may be able to survive the first trial, Daniel
considered a quick solution, deciding to test how much leeway the
Program in charge of recruitment would provide him.

He entered a new aggression algorithm into
his projected input station and waited with grim anticipation.
After a few moments, the Program beeped approval. Daniel grinned
wickedly, selecting the activate icon to integrate his alterations,
before leaning back to again, enjoy the show.

The mighty beast fled before Trent's drunken
charge, scurrying towards the rusting metal building situated
across the tracks in the hope of escaping his wrath. Trent ignored
the fleeing beast, his unprotected destination now within reach,
sliding to a stop next to the silo.

He spun in place, studying his surroundings,
searching for additional guards that may be protecting the
treasure, as he caught his breath. Finding none, he nodded to
himself, satisfied that the sight of his fanatical charge was
enough to strike terror into any threat. He turned his attention to
his reward, unable to stop licking his chapped lips as he stared
upon the silo full of booze...his silo...or so he thought.

Swiftly, he shuffled to the rusted ladder
that led to its peak, grasping the first rung. He tumbled to the
ground hard as it broke free. Wiping the dirt from his backside, he
carefully swayed back to his feet, barely noticing the charging
beast from the corner of his eye swipe at him with one of its razor
sharp claws.

Unconsciously, he raised the rusted ladder
rung before him, somehow blocking the unexpected attack. But the
force of the blow was enormous and the rusted rung bent inwards as
he was thrown through the air, his drunken limbs flailing like he
had no bones as he bounced, rolling to stop on the gravel covered
ground adjacent the splitting railroad tracks. Being only slightly
fazed by the guardians return, Trent forced himself back to his
feet.

“I knew the guardian of the booze....wouldn't
give in so easily...” Trent shouted with a slur, finding the
creature unfazed. “Very well,” he raised the carbon rod in one
hand, and the now bent rusted ladder rung in the other, and again
charged the monstrosity.

Trent's movements were driven by
instinct.

He threw the carbon rod at the right side of
the beast, which it easily deflected with a flick of its razor
sharp arms, giving Trent time to dive to the beast's left, rolling
under the slower defensive swipe of the already extended razor
sharp arms. Adrenaline coursed through his veins as he completed
his roll, the maneuver temporarily clearing the drunkenness from
his mind.

He expertly recovered his feet, and in one
smooth motion, he swung the rusted iron ladder rung with all his
might. A defining crack echoed from where he struck, having caught
one of the creature's leg joints with the rungs sharp end. Without
even a sound, the giant insect turned and awkwardly scurried back
towards the metallic building, dragging its broken limb behind.

Daniel sat on the edge of his seat, watching
the insane hobo, who minutes before couldn't even walk straight,
block the krakllian’s surprise attack, then land a clean hit on one
its few known weaknesses.

It’s unthinkable!
Daniel’s mind cried,
unable to fathom how the hobo could battle the hardened shock troop
of the ASU, a terrifying krakllian, on equal ground.

“Just who is this damn hobo?” Daniel muttered
as he accessed the Earth’s combined corporate human resource
database, requesting information based on the DNA gathered by the
Program controlling the robotic krakllian.

He usually didn't care to study the history
of dead men. But by the way phase one of the trial was progressing,
he needed to be prepared for phase two, which required him to delve
into the candidates past. Hastily, he glanced through the hobo’s
corporate records that scrolled through the air before him, finding
nothing distinctive.

The hobo, named Trent Marcello, appeared to
be nothing more than an ordinary middle-class citizen who had
fallen on hard times. His early life record was surprisingly vague,
as if he didn’t actually exist until his college years, where it
told that he graduated as an underachiever from a technical
corporate university. Nothing from that time period caught his eye,
besides a note of him having visited an abuse councilor during his
first year, but nothing concrete for Daniel to use. After
graduating, however, his life record became most intriguing.

The first eight years he worked at one of
Earth's larger mega-corporations, Motapplesoft Trust, was standard
fair, but Daniel’s eyes lit up as he read through the compiled
history over the last few months of his employment.

“Seems like somebody made some powerful
enemies...” Daniel whispered, unable to stop grinning as he read
the reason for the corporate blackball on his personnel file. A
note amended to his corporate record that would forever make him
unemployable...the same as being dead in the backwards Earthen
society.

The note started innocently enough, stating
that Trent Marcello, Daniel found the name hobo more to his liking,
was involved in a relationship with a coworker at Motapplesoft
Trust. This coworker, named Samantha, was widely known to be the
fiancée of the current CEO's son. Trent, in his lust for power, was
then said to have seduced Samantha in hopes of creating a scandal
for the current CEO, while improving his reputation among the
company's elite, who opposed the current management. This terrible
plot had been uncovered when Samantha came clean and the facts of
this most heinous act of blackmail by Trent Marcello was brought to
light. Trent was summarily dismissed and the report of his apparent
unethical behavior and blackmail attempt were permanently included
as the first line of his compiled pre-employment background check
record. Trent, for all intents and purposes, life on Earth was
forever over.

Daniel smirked, finding a sick kind of glee
in the suffering of others.

The report was bias, that was more than
obvious to Daniel, and as he read further, he found the
descriptions of Trent’s behavior didn't fit the companies own
annual performance reviews. The reviews stated Trent had little
motivation for advancement and would perform the minimum amount of
work required for his job. They also stated, quite clearly, that he
kept an unhealthy distance from his coworkers and lacked
motivation, with clearly written recommendations, from three
different managers, that additional motivational training should be
provided.