Vector (The Extraterrestrial Anthology, Volume I: Temblar)
Vector
By Mark Aragona
*****
Vector
Copyright © 2011 Dangereye Inc.
My son—
I am Gan vé Eiremua Rienata Silmar, Master of your House.
You may not remember my face, but I remember yours. I think of your pale red eyes and your slim face and wonder if I will ever hold you again. I hope to tell you this story myself. I hope we can sit atop the highest trees of the New World’s jungles and breathe the night air together. I hope to watch you grow strong and someday lead our House, as I have all my life.
But tomorrow I may be dead. So you must hear this story, and know the value of the Name you will hold and take to your grave.
I’m sitting aboard our flagship, recording these words on my memory prism. Soon, the Monitors will begin my trial. They’ve informed me of the charge—that I have failed in my mission to rescue the scouts sent to the human homeworld, Earth. To this, I plead Guilty.
However, there is another charge I must address, one I’m sure they will level against me: murder.
I’ll enter no plea. I’ll ask them to drop this charge. And I’ll tell them the same story I will tell you now.
When we arrived at this solar system, it was after years of traveling between the stars. For generations we watched helplessly as our once-beloved star raged in its death throes, as the encroaching desert devoured the once great jungles of Yaneth. But when the first surface images arrived—that of a mighty river weaving through a vast, mist-covered jungle—we knew we had found salvation.
The Monitors staked our best and brightest on this voyage. They sent scientists, wordweavers, navigators—and, knowing the necessity of spies, us Kusa as well. Every one of us devoted our energies to the immense task of studying Earth. We took up residence on the dark side of their moon. We infiltrated Earthian satellites, listened to their messages, and observed their lives through our lenses.
Part of it was to see how well we could adapt to this planet, but mostly it was to study humans—their culture, history, and psychology. The “why” is simple: Earthians are a war-like species, and we came on a lifeboat, not a battleship. How would they react to the sight of beings that towered at least a head above them, whose green hairless flesh and red eyes were so different from their own? Would they look at our elongated heads and double thumbs and think us monsters?
By the end of the year, our research neared completion and first contact seemed imminent. But when the Monitors called for the Kusa, it was for a different matter altogether:
Lyaren, our foremost life scientist, was missing.
She had left for Earth on a month-long mission to observe the Earthians in their own environment. The Monitors had provided her with a laboratory-equipped scout ship and three assistants. She reported her progress every third day. But a month came and went and Lyaren did not return.
I had spoken with Lyaren only twice during our long voyage. She was an exacting leader, demanding only the best and unforgiving of mistakes and delays. For her to be late like this was unthinkable. Something must have gone wrong.
Our orders were clear: find and retrieve Lyaren’s group and their vessel without being detected by any Earthian. I gathered my Kusa: Eire, our life scientist, the brothers Sil and Mar, expert engineers; and lastly, Ata and Rien, trained hunters like myself.
At twilight, our pod descended as a shooting star, falling into a lake less than six kapaks away from where the scout ship was supposedly located. We left our ship at the bottom and swam to shore. There, we opened our visors and tasted the air of the New World.
We were awash in sensations, some familiar—the scent of wet soil, the feel of rough bark under our hands—the rest new and confusing. The too-bright moon; a horizon filled with clusters of light from distant human settlements. The smell of alien flowers, a whiff of acrid smoke, and a subtle metallic scent I could not identify.
I examined our equipment while we paused on the shore. I had picked weapons that were light and efficient: finger blades, skim razors, pulse bows, Rayolet poison, and lastly, our means of keeping our corpses from human hands—plasma mines strapped to our chests, primed to detonate upon their owner’s death.
The scout ship's energy trail led to the east. I led my group through wood and hill, slipping from shadow to shadow, mimicking the breeze in the grass.
We had run perhaps two kapaks when we found something strange. There was a highway choked end to end with vehicles—cars, they were called. Some of them were dented and smashed, others bore signs of fire. Many lay on their sides or backs, like beasts trampled by their own herd.
Several car’s doors were open, indicating that the humans had continued on foot. The road itself was littered with clothes, computers, toys and other castoffs. There were no sounds, no trace of anyone nearby. Nothing but that strange metallic smell from before.
“The humans were trying to flee,” Eire commented, “but from what?”
This worried me. If some disaster had happened here, could it also have befallen the scouts? We had to find them, and quickly.
We crept over the vehicles, dropping into a dry ditch on the other side. When I turned, I realized that Rien was no longer with us. I spied him halfway across the road, peering through a hole in a windshield.
“Master,” he said, “something moved in here.”
Alarmed, I unsheathed my finger knife and slipped towards him. Was it a human, or just an animal foraging for scraps? “Leave it,” I ordered. “Now.”
Rien turned to comply, but a hand shot out of the hole in the windshield and grabbed his ankle. He lost his balance, falling onto his back with a yelp. Panicked, he kicked at his attacker. We vaulted towards him at his first shriek of agony. Tiny cubes of glass shot through the air as some thing crawled out of the windshield, twitching and jerking as it clamped its jaws around Rien’s foot.
Eire immediately grabbed Rien while Mar and Ata attempted to break the creature’s grip. I seized the thing by its hair and drove my finger knife into its neck.
But the creature did not flinch or slacken its hold. It chewed on Rien, swallowing the bright yellow blood pulsing from his wound. I swallowed my horror and slashed down at its wrist. Dark liquid splashed upon my body as the severed hand dropped to the ground. The creature moaned as black fluid spurted from the stump of its arm, but it did not stop. Only when I dug my knife deep into its eye did it groan and slump against the car’s surface. I caught that metallic scent again and realized—it was human blood.
I gazed up at my comrades. They were staring at my bloodied body with palpable shock. I forced myself to stop trembling.
“Treat his wound!” I snapped at Eire.
Rien mewled as they laid him on the road. As Eire attended to him, I examined the human’s corpse.
But was it really human? I felt my innards squirming as I stared at it. Its dull tattered flesh stretched taut against its facial bones. Black ichor leaked out of its ruined eye. Boils clustered at its cheeks and the edges of its mouth, where its skin scabbed and flaked. White ribs peeked out of the open wound on its side. It probably should have died a long time ago.
And yet it moved—it fought. It ate.
Sil hissed a warning; he unslung his pulse bow, staring into the dark.
Some fifty paces away, a slumped figure was shambling between the cars. Its skin was the color of smoke, and black fluid coated its gaping mouth and torn throat. Its idiot stare held nothing but hunger. And it was not alone—more were dragging themselves out of windows and from under the cars, shuffling and loping towards us.
My crew
did not wait for my order; they drew and started firing. I drew my pulse bow and took aim. A pin of light flashed through the air and the lead human fell onto its back, arms and legs twitching as the pulse rippled through its flesh.
Then it sat up again. There was still a thin ribbon of smoke rising from the burn on its chest. Beside me, Sil made a choking noise.
I ordered Sil and Mar to carry Rien, and then we shot our way to the embankment and fled for our lives. The creatures pursued. Some we left behind, but the faster ones kept pace, moaning all the while. We spent half our ammunition scattering their limbs and black fluids across the grass. Yet more moans came from all around us, as if these vile things were calling for others, herding us like prey.
Faced with predators, we followed instinct: we ran for the trees.
We veered towards the