War of the Worlds 2030 (14 page)

Wendle looked up through the smoke. Six
Darmuks
still stood, having been shielded by their companions' bodies. The passage behind them was collapsed from the blast. They snarled. A battle-ape drew a pair of throwing knives from its belt sheathe and let them fly. They drove into Wendle's skull.

Wendle felt his body die. His heart, too stubborn to admit defeat, beat for a few more seconds. He felt a floating sensation and stared down at the tableau from the passage's ceiling. The
Darmuks
crowded around him, kicking his corpse. His heart stopped.

One one-thousand,
he thought.

Two one-thousand,
a glowing light appeared in front of him.

Three one-thousand,
he floated towards the light feeling a strange euphoria.

Four one-thousand,
A figure appeared in the light.

“Grama,” he said.

“Come, you've done all you can, Wendle.”

Five one-thousand.
An explosion tore through the sewer ripping the
Darmuks
to pieces as Wendle followed the grey-haired lady into the light.

* * * *

Stan sat silently in the back of the jeep. The other resistance members gave him his space. Tears tricked down his cheeks. He could only pray he would die in the upcoming battles. Living without his love was more than he could face.

“Denice,” he opened. A fourteen-year-old girl with a dirty face dressed in rags and holding a rifle looked at him.

“Yes?”

“Tomorrow you and Franklin are to go to San Bernardino. I will have papers for you to carry.”

“Yes sir.”

“Denice?”

“Yes?”

“Try not to get pregnant on the trip. You're both too young for that.”

“Sir, I…We…”

“Be good to each other.” Stanley closed his eyes and fell back into the pit of his own despair.

“How's the unit, son?” asked General Flanders.

“The chemical balance is more or less back to normal sir. The resiliency of the brain cells is truly impressive.” Major Joans yawned as he settled on the interface couch.

“Not use to evening shift, major?” The general glared at his subordinate.

“It's just my body's rhythm, sir. I always get sleepy around sundown before my second wind.” Joans pushed the cyber jack into place as Kate prepared the monitor feeds and IV.

“Good. If all goes according to plan it won't be long.”

“No sir. Permission to get back to work.”

“Granted.”

Major Joans focused on the calendar. “It is March, 8th twenty-thirty-seven.” He closed his eyes and slipped into the data flow.

* * * *

Upload monitoring/ Richard Green /Index 22:00/ 7/9/2032

* * * *

“Doctor Peaterfield, it is a plant. It may have some animal DNA spliced in, but, in the final analysis, it is a plant.” Richard stood with his back to the conference table staring out a window that overlooked the celebration in the plaza. The image of the alien lander filled a screen on the end wall of the large room.

“Impossible. A biological organism surviving re-entry.” The aging scientist scowled at the other members of the committee who sat at the table.

“Look, Sugar, it's like those pinecones that only open after exposure to intense heat. That shell protected it through re-entry and then it fell away.” Nancy stood demurely by the window in a burgundy grown that showed off her legs.

“If it is a plant, what do you believe its capacities are?” demanded the admiral.

“How the hell should I know?” Richard stared at the ant-like figures below. Somewhere down there Ashley was dancing with Tannal, it made his guts churn.

“Doctor Green!” admonished Malcome.

“I'm sorry.” Richard closed his eyes and sighed. “I can't say much. Right now it's, I guess the best phrase would be, refueling. My guess is it must store sugars to operate during flight. Right now it's taking on nutrients from the Milorganite, storing water, building itself up.”

“Why would they want to build it up?” demanded the admiral.

“To go home, Sugar,” said Nancy.

“Or attack.” countered the admiral.

“Unlikely. If they were going to attack, at least in the short term, an assault from space would be far more devastating,” observed General Flanders.

“Admiral, general. You can't think of their technology as you would ours. If a jet has no fuel it doesn't care. Gas it up later it flies without a hitch. This is a living thing. If it has no food, it will cannibalize itself like an anorexic losing muscle mass. For the good of the creature it must be kept well fed and watered. Try to think like someone who keeps horses.”

“I worry about how our biosphere might affect our new friends,” observed Nancy.

“Quite right. They look like us, but they might have no immunity to Earth disease,” agreed Richard.

“Could they have brought something that we have no immunity to,” demanded the admiral.

“Admiral, Y'all are asking things we can't know. This whole little dog and pony show could be a disaster. We don't know half the nasty critters running around our world. There's no way they could have prepared for them all. I don't think we all have much to worry about though. They would have seen to our safety before landing,” countered Nancy.

“I'd give my eye teeth for some gene samples,” said Richard.

“They're being processed now,” Malcome smirked from his seat at the head of the table.

“How?” Richard turned to face the man.

“We had several subs and retrieval teams standing by under their flight path. We recovered the seed husk within an hour of them dropping it. As to Tannal and company.” Malcome scraped at the palm of his hand tearing a thin membrane. “The speaker of the UN agreed to assist us. When he shook hands with our new friends, some of their dead cells adhered to the glove. They are being analyzed now.”

“Y'all are so paranoid,” said Nancy.

“All on the QT,” remarked General Flanders.

“Good, we need to find out as much about them as we can,” said Doctor Green.

“Y'all against them now, Richard?” asked Nancy.

“I like answers, and we don't have many. Besides, if they do catch something, understanding their DNA might help us save them.”

* * * *

Upload monitoring/ Richard Green /Index 09:37/ 1/10/2032

* * * *

Richard sat at his desk and pressed the decode sequence into his computer. The gibberish on the screen resolved into genetic data.

He stared at the result. Read it three times then picked up the phone and dialed.

“Code magenta, Scramble, AI 555, PP, code name Scholar, contact Chieftain.”

The line went dead then activated again with a click.

“Scholar, Chieftain here. What's the Magenta?” Malcome's voice was oddly flattened by the scrambling process.

“They are not real life forms, and they're almost human.”

“What?”

“I just saw the results of the DNA profile. Chieftain, it's terrifying what they've done. They are human. Genetically identical but perfect, except for one thing. It's like someone removed all the non active parts of the genome and cobbled together a reader's digest version of a perfect human being.”

“That is incredible.”

“Impossible for anything but an engineered life form. All advanced life has inactive sections of DNA, leftovers from earlier forms. I knew parallel evolution could account for superficial similarities, like appearance, even though that's damn unlikely. Until now I thought they must have used surgery to look like us. This though. They were built. Assemble by a technology that I can only guess at.”

“This is disturbing. A lie of omission is still a lie.”

“There's more. The DNA from the shell has nothing in common with that of Tannal and the others.”

“Different species?”

“There isn't a nucleotide sequence that matches. Life on Earth follows consistent patterns. Actually, I did find something that matched. It's the sequences responsible for the human autoimmune system. In the shell it's a viral implant that hijacked that aspect of the biology from pre-existing DNA.”

“What does this mean?”

“They superimposed biologic resistance to Earth pathogens. They are perfectly safe from our biosphere, the reverse does not necessarily hold true. Our friends have secrets.”

“Keep on it Scholar. Closing secured line.”

“Goodbye.”

* * * *

Upload monitoring/ Richard Green /Index 16:24/ 25/11/2032

* * * *

“Hello, Tannal, Osa.” Malcome greeted the aliens as they entered the room. A large table filled the middle of the floor and the pile on the carpet was so deep it left a trail of footprints wherever someone walked. Richard and General Flanders sat at the table.

“I was told a delegation wished to discuss a matter of some import with me,” opened Tannal. His uniform looked to be a bit tight.

“Yes. I hope you will not consider our actions amiss. You must understand, we humans have a long history of individuals who pretended to be friends and turned out to be anything but.”

“I have watched your historical documentaries. What is it you wish to discuss?”

“You,” snarled Richard.

“Pardon me, Mister Green?” Tannal barely spared Richard a glance.

“Doctor.”

“Excuse me?”

“My proper title is, doctor, after all the documentaries you've watched you must know that.”

“Very well, Doctor Green,” Tannal managed to make the word sound slimy.

“Doctor, please. Tannal and Osa are honored guests,” admonished Malcome. “We have no reason to think that the abnormalities you detected indicate a hostile intent. Activate your first slide. Gentle beings, please take a seat and make yourselves comfortable.

“We just want to be sure of everything before we start building your embassy.”

The screen that covered the room's end wall filled with a double helix spiral of DNA as they all took seats.

Osa examined the screen her eyes growing wide before she gasped. “Where did you get that? How dare you!” Her beautiful features were contorted with a scowl.

“What is this?” demanded Tannal.

“It is our DNA, captain. They must have stolen a sample,” snapped Osa.

“Bloody straight, we stole a sample. Mind explaining what you're playing at?” demanded Richard.

“Have you humans no decency. This is no way to treat a peaceful delegation.” Tannal went red faced and slammed his fist against the table.

“Captain, you must understand. In human politics a certain measure of paranoia is a necessity,” soothed Malcome.

“You aren't real,” growled Richard.

“Really. Ashley seems to believe I am quite real. Three times I showed her how real I am last night. She accepted each with great relish.” Tannal bared his teeth in a smug smile.

Richard started across the table but General Flanders's tossed him back and glared at him.

“This is a travesty. We travel light years to greet you and you pry into the nature of our life to make weapons to destroy us,” snapped Osa.

“That is not the case. We are a curious species,” said Malcome.

“You tax my patience.” Tannal glared at the humans in the room.

“I'll tax your engineered, overly muscled neck,” snapped Richard.

“Can he be removed?” asked Tannal.

“Richard, Doctor Green, enough!” ordered Malcome. “Now I know it is an imposition, but could you explain to us what this is about?”

Tannal's hands clenched into fists as he spoke. “As you surmised, these bodies are engineered. We intercepted transmissions of the data on your Human Genome project and constructed these vehicles. We have a process that allows one to copy and input biological memories in much the same way you might copy a file on a computer. Our actual bodies are on the
Wikell
. When our mission is done we will upload the information stored in these brains into our original forms.”

“Why go to all that trouble?” asked the general.

“Our biology would have introduced bacteria to your biosphere that might have caused plagues. Also, the bacteria in your atmosphere may well have been fatal to us. In addition, it was deemed that you would find our true forms repulsive.” Osa leaned her elbows on the table and steepled her fingers.

“Also in this way we do not need to physically return to our vessel. Thus the lander does not require the ability to fly into orbit. Once down it need only serve as atmospheric transport and commutations,” added Tannal.

“When were you going to tell us this?” demanded Richard.

“Don't you mean when was I going to tell Ashley? Now that it is known, I will do so tonight. I must say, the reproductive process of you humans is quite pleasurable. I have never experienced anything quite like it. Of course, ones partner must have something to do with that,” taunted Tannal.

“Richard, down!” ordered the general.

“Does your lander pose a biological risk?” Richard demanded through gritted teeth.

“It was purged of all companion organisms before leaving the
Wikell
. There is nothing to infect your world.”

“Thank you for clearing up this little misunderstanding.” Malcome stood.

“Do not thank me. I will be speaking with your president about this gross invasion of my people's privacy. I am tempted to end our mission immediately.” Tannal left the room with Osa behind him.The door closed and the three men sat silently for several seconds.

“Richard, you missed your calling. That was one hell of a bad cop. I thought you were going for the smarmy bastard,” said Andrew.

Richard released the death grip he had on the coffee mug in front of him. “I just let myself do what I've always wanted to. The creature's a maggot in a pretty shell.”

“Do you believe that is what their original form is like?” asked Malcome.

“No idea. I hope the monitors got some good readings. He didn't get as aggressive as I thought he might.”

“Are you mad?” said Malcome. “He's a diplomat; he practically tried to throttle you. Keeping a good face up is paramount. Trust me, I think we'll be able to get a base line to make a lie detector.”

“Good. I'll tell you one thing. If they can download consciousness the implications. No death, no injuries. When the body wears out, just clone a new one and transfer.” Richard shook his head and looked at the table.