___________________________________ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The Otherworld <> Chapter 9 :: END OF JOURNEYS :: Copyright 1992 by Bryce Koike All Rights Reserved ___________________________________ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- Any comments, criticisms, opinions, etc, are welcome. I can be reached on Internet as: bkoike@sdcc13.ucsd.edu -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- "The night is dark, the moon is full Across the blood red plain Every step and every breath Brings me nearer home The spirits watch me on my way They whisper on the wind And when the dawn lights up the sky I'll see my land again" ("Tombstone" -- The Pogues) -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- Date: September 10, 1992 Location: Northern California Otherworld Time: 9:00 pm A half-empty bottle of cheap alcohol leaned against the wall of a building that had never been used before. Two glasses clinked together with a soft reverberation from the bare walls. "I think I liked this room more with the decorations, sir," said Martique. "Please, just Dennis! And I'll just call you John. And then we'll all be nice and comfortable, eh?" "Alright, if that's how you want it." "John, in this room we're just friends, okay? Let me indulge in one fantasy: a fantasy that we're long and far away from the wars and the horrors, from politics and hate. That the world is a long, long way away and we don't have to worry about it." Martique's smile thinned his already razor-like lips and cracked his face. "Alright, Dennis. Just like the old days, hmm?" "Oh, not like the old days. Back then I was immature and irresponsible and nearly got my entire command slaughtered because of a single joy ride." John's barking laugh echoed off the walls in a lonely manner. "Ah, the days of our youth, Dennis! How long ago they seem." "Longer still now that we're here on some strange planet." "Yes." They raised their shot glasses and downed their respective drinks. "Lord, they don't serve stuff like this at command," gasped John. "Where'd you find this?" Dennis laughed. "I believe that in the 20th Century they called this item cheap whiskey. It seemed somehow appropriate." "Burn! Burn!" blurted John. They burst into laughter. "You- you nearly killed us all in that maneuver!" gasped Dennis. "You stupid fool!" He howled. "Oh, but the looks on your faces were worth it! Especially that damned fool. What was his name? Lester? I think that was it. Lord, whatever happened to that poor fool?" "Ah. He died. Stimpson's Planet in '85." John's eyes dropped for a moment into his lap. "The poor fool." "A lot of fools died on that planet." "A travesty. Oh damn. Look, I cut myself." He tried to wipe away the blood. "Now how'd I manage that one?" "Forgot to tell you. The desk. Splinters." Dennis smiled. "Gotcha." "Awrgh! You! You were the one!" John pointed his bloody hand at Dennis. "The damned nail in my boot! YOU!" Dennis wiped the tears from his eyes. "You deserved that one! You know it! Ah, heh, you did, you know." "Did not. I was the perfect gentleman to you." "That was the damned point, Mr. Martique. You were always so uptight. I wanted to loosen you up a bit. You know you could've been promoted to captain any time you liked?" "Didn't want it." "Don't think you could handle the responsibility?" "You don't understand." John abruptly stood and peered out the window at the darkened city. He drank the remaining alcohol from his glass. "This is what I was meant to do, Dennis. Lead men. Not like you, so far and away from it all. Did you know that everyone had orders to keep you out of combat when we hit the Combine base? I never wanted to become like that. I wanted my . . . freedom. To choose my moment of life or death. And not to have someone else looking over my shoulder. Freedom, Dennis. Something I think we've all forgotten about sometime." "Don't you say that." "I am saying it. And you'll listen. Have you ever wondered about freedom, Dennis? We've lost sight of it somewhere between our wars and conflicts with the Combine, the politics. Our lives aren't our own. Our terms with the military are undertermined. We get shore leave when it's convenient for the military, not when we need it. We're puppets." "That's the alcohol talking, man." "No. That's me. I'm there with the men, watching them. You don't think they're happy here? Take a look at them! Their duties are scant, if any. They can lounge, talk, drink, go for walks. They're happy here, Dennis! I'm not saying that they don't want to leave. I'm sure they will once they find out that we're stranded here. But the fact is that we've been due a vacation for one hell of a long time." "So they need a little rest, John." "They need more than rest, Dennis. What's their future once they leave the military? You know it as well as I. They're abandoned. They're dropped without a parade or a medal or anything. We're expendable, Dennis, like just another starship or something." Bryant sighed. "That's the price of war, John. No. Don't continue. We're both drunk and there's no point in this discussion continuing unless you're really looking for a fight." John smirked. "So, then. Friends again?" "Yes, Dennis, friends." They shook. "My hands are shaking, John. I guess I can't hold the alcohol like I used to." "Mine too. You think it's maybe the air?" "Too clean you mean?" "Yes." They chuckled. Like two disobedient children they talked long into the night, long after they'd polished off two bottles of bad whiskey. It took two men to carry Lieutenant John Martique to his room. Captain Dennis Bryant crawled to his bed and collapsed, destined to dream happy thoughts of pink elephants. No nightmares would plague them that night. -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- Date: September 11, 1992 Location: Northern California Otherworld Time: 8:00 am The lights dimmed in the room. Morris walked to the front of the room and activated a flat-screen display. "We received these images half an hour ago," he said. "A small group of five. They were travelling in a vehicle and had stopped for supplies. Watch." The screen came to life. "Three adults, one young child, and one baby. Two of the adults are heading for the fast food restaurant to change the baby's diapers." The other pulled a large gas can from the trunk along with a section of plastic tubing. He headed toward the nearest vehicle. The two adults, presumably the parents of the baby, set to work. The lone child stayed in the car and played with what appeared to be a doll. "We will switch to infrared scanning now and take ourselves up two hundred meters. There's two unidentified humanoid forms over a block away. There. That's them. Notice that they don't show up on standard video." "The aliens," said Bryant. "Without a doubt. There's no hazing as there is with the Combine technology. When they turn the corner, one leaves in a hurry. The nearest flight unit was Halo 3 and we wouldn't be able to get it in range for a minute and that forced us to keep watch on the family here. The other alien heads toward the nearest stairwell to observe the family from above." For a moment the alien's heat signature seemed to disappear from view. As the flight unit adjusted itself, the alien reappeared, albeit fuzzier. "Allow me to split the screen. Here's the scene from Halo 3. We're cutting in from the south-west. There's the family. We're now heading in the direction of the direction we saw the alien heading in. We don't catch anything for several minutes, so I'll put this one on fast-forward." During this time the two adults finished putting a new diaper on the baby. Their child had become bored in the car and she got out to see what they were doing. The woman on the other side of the street had finished siphoning gas after a bit of trouble with the gas cap and had returned to their car to fill the tank. "Are these people 20th Century standard?" asked Martique. "From the looks of them, yes. I was never up on that time period, though. I was more into contemporary history if you know what I mean. Here now. Notice that they've got weapons. The woman with the gas tank is now checking them out. Two pistols and a hunting rifle. Nothing major, but it suggests that there's danger around." "They could be paranoid." "Possibly. They could be hunting as well, but then why are they so far from any usable hunting areas? And why the pistols? Notice something here. The woman with the guns looks up. It's as if she's sensed something. Let's return to Halo 3. She's picked up our lone alien. But it's been met with a force of ten friends. These DO show up on video. Computer, enlarge and enhance." "Just like the one in the building." "Correct. And here the first alien drops his invisibility and shows his true colors. He's some sort of officer judging from the way they treat him. Now they're travelling down the street toward the family. Is this a friendly greeting party? Notice that some of the aliens are carrying some crude weapons. I think not." "Hostile, then." "Yes, but why are they resorting to pipes and wood axes? One of their number is carrying a sword, but nothing more. And I'm not going to even begin wondering where it got the sword from. Now at the same time the woman's going crazy. The family is packing their things and preparing to leave." Indeed they appeared to be in a panic. The little girl was crying as her mother nearly threw her in the car. The other woman took the driver's seat and started the ignition. "Notice the heat signature from the alien on the roof! Now! It flares! That guy's got to somehow be generating a heat increase of at least twenty degrees! Here's where things get interesting. We're so interested in what's going on with alien number one that we nearly forget the people in the car. Here, we move the camera back. The driver's knocked out. We don't know what happened, but it seems the alien was somehow involved." "Heat weapon? Sonics? Some sort of internal electrical ability?" asked sargeant Sutcliffe. "Negative. No chance. She was on the far side of the car and was totally hidden from the view of the alien. We don't know what it did, but it knocked her out. In the meantime the other aliens are double-timing toward the vehicle." The man struggled with the driver and finally managed to get her out of the way. Just as he got himself into the driver seat, though, he too slumped over. "And the alien's body temperature flares again! This supports our belief that the alien's somehow involved with this. The woman in the back seat is going into hysterics, but watch. Now it's her turn. It's all over for these people. Now we fast-forward. Here the alien welcoming committee appears. They look over the situation and then gather up all the people including the baby and the child and cart them back to home base." Morris hit the forward button and switched to Halo 3. "We followed them like good boys. Here's their home base. A nondescript two-story office building with few windows. We're going to lose most of our detail once they get into the building, but at least we now know where they are. There. They're all in. And that's the end of the story." The lights came back on. The soldiers shifted in their seats. "Hostile kidnapping aliens, hmm?" said Bryant. "Now is this a result of our own actions against them or is has this been going on for some time?" "Probably not our fault, sir. Their home base is over two hundred kilometers south of us. Those two aliens we gunned down were extremely far from home. It might be possible that they're searching for a more suitable home or perhaps they're looking for more humans to kidnap." "I see. Any way of estimating their numbers?" "We're working on that now, sir. It seems that there's a very large concentration of them in that building and two others nearby. We'll have better estimates by tomorrow. The creatures seem fairly dormant during the day and the building itself poses interference problems. We don't dare move the flight units in any closer than they already are. We have no idea as to what kind of technology these things possess and we can't spare flight units at this time." "Understandable. Report back tomorrow the minute you have anything." "Yes, sir." In Jupiter space, the Combine had pulled back. Their bluff had been called albeit in a clumsy inefficient manner. The Hammer had been ordered back, possibly restricted from ever being used near Terra again. In some ways perhaps that was better. The Hammer would have no place if peace had finally come to the Terran solar system. But peace would not come to Generald Cimmond who still wondered what had become of the Callasius, her crew, and her captain, Dennis Bryant. The link crackled with static. Most of it was contributed by the scramblers. "No sign of her, sir," reported the captain. "It's like she vanished. We've checked all energy traces as well. The Asians deny having access to or using any sort of gravitics or any other weapon. In fact, they too are confused as to why or how the Callasius disappeared. I'm not very good at reading faces, sir, but I'm quite certain that they were hiding something from us." General Cimmond sighed. "Thank you. I want a full report on my desk ASAP. Keep searching in case she does turn up. I'm afraid that she probably won't. If you don't get anything else in 48 hours I want you and your men to report to Polaris for some R and R." And entire troop carrier gone without a trace! Cimmond buried his face in his hands and gently squeezed. "Bryant, where the hell are you? Where in the goddamned hell are you?" "No sign of them arming to deal with us?" asked Bryant. "None at this moment, sir, but we can't be sure. It's only very recently that we've been able to pick up on their location. I have noticed one thing, though. They've got trucks. The funny thing, though, was that the trucks they had were dismantled. That's assuming, of course, they they were the ones who dismantled them. We can't be totally certain." "And they don't use anywhere near high-tech weaponry?" "None that we've discovered, sir. At least all the ones we've seen have weilded swords and clubs. Some of them wear some strange sort of armor, but most seem naked." "No idea as to what they're going to do with the people?" "None sir, although they were quite careful not to harm the bodies. Perhaps this was just a police group?" "Now with swords they weren't. So we're suggesting that these beings exhibit some sort of innate invisibility along with the ability to put others to sleep. Psionics or what-have-you. They're also somewhat warlike and take prisoners. The people were obviously afraid of them and were armed. I think that this tells us just about everything, hmm?" "And what does that tell us, sir?" asked Martique. "It's war, sir. War between us and the first alien race that we have ever discovered. A war between humans and aliens. Morris, we need more information. Are there other groups of aliens? Do they possess space technology? What other powers do they have? It is imperative that we have answers to these questions before we launch our first attack or are attacked ourselves." "I understand. We've got the men working overtime right now." "Excellent. Martique, gather the men and clue them in. Fun and games are over." "Yes, sir!" As Captain Bryant walked down the corridors of the abandoned building, he thought. It was on his shoulders that this weight rested. Would he be able to stand up to the test? The sounds of soldiers preparing for battle had begun. -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- Date: September 14, 1992 Location: Northern California Otherworld Time: 12:38 am Bryant's wristcom blinked at him furiously, a red blur demanding attention. He laid there for a moment, hoping it would go away. For two days he had worked his ass off, planning and preparing for war. Now what? He pressed a button. "Yes?" "Sir, we've captured some humans!" "Damn. I'll be right down!" Humans! Other people! He slammed his legs into his clothes. "Slow down, mister," he told himself. "No sense in looking like they just woke you up." He took the time to put on some clean clothes and straighten his hair a bit and then headed out the door. People. Men? Soldiers? IR scanners gazed out into the distance. "There, soldier. You see them?" "Yeah, I see 'em." "Awright, on command we open fire." "There's an awful lot of them there." "You afraid?" "No, sir!" "Then shut the fuck up." No, the humans were not men. They were three children. A boy and a girl in their late teens, possibly in their twenties. Lying on a cot on the floor was another member of their group. Bryant noticed that the other boy was Asian. He gave Martique a stern look. "There's no war where they came from, sir," he said. But that didn't stop the Combine from sending in spies before. Could they be sure? Could they be absolutely sure? "Sir," said the girl. "My name's Tracy and this is my friend Vince. Matt's the one on the cot. You've got to help him." Help him? "Please, sir." Help his kind? "Alright, the guys in the robes. Them's the ones you want to take out first. They're the wizards of the group. Take out the tall ones next. They're the big warriors. Take the rest out at your leisure. Men, you ready? Shenk?" "Yessir. I'm ready, sir." "Good 'cuz I want you to give the order to fire. Whenever you're ready, private." "Um, yessir. FIRE!" Like fireworks sparks exploded along a hill. "Bryant," whispered the boy on the cot. Matt. That was his name. Typical non-Asian name. It was to be expected. He would say that he had been born among Alliance parents- "America, Bryant. 20th Century America." He slowly pushed himself into a sitting position. "You read my mind." "And you, sir, state the obvious." Matt flashed a cynical smile. "Interesting compound you have here, Mr. Bryant." "That's Captain Bryant to you," blurted Martique. "Ah, and the lieutenant. Martique, is it? I've seen you in my dreams. You're very old for a lieutenant, aren't you?" He coughed. "The Eternals are their name. Their goal is genocide. Will you try to stop them?" "Who are you talking about?" "Wake up, military man. Do you think you're the only one who's come across the Eternals? We have met with them as well. We have met with them and done battle and only barely did we win. You are watching them now, planning your battle out ever so carefully. You'll lose, Bryant." "I'll lose in honor, boy." "There's no honor in war, military man! You should know that. No honor in dying for a cause you don't believe in. I-" He doubled over and gave what sounded like a squeak of pain. Tracy kneeled. "It's okay. He gets like this sometimes." She calmly held him although no compassion was on her face. Martique looked down at her. "Your face, it's bruised," he said. "He hit me in the car. I didn't want to come here." She did not raise her eyes. Two warriors were knocked down beside him. The Elder looked up and heard the thunder of weapons in the distance. He had no time to do anything before several bullets ended his life as well. The soldiers made quick work of the unprepared Eternals. "Good work, Shenk. Now that wasn't so hard, was it?" "I . . . never killed before, sir." "Get used to it, soldier. They're the enemy and we're the only ones who can stop 'em. Pack up and let's find out what they've got hiding in that building, eh?" "Yes, sir." "Why didn't you want to come here?" asked Bryant. "I was irrational. I just wanted to run. This has all been such a nightmare for us." The boy Vince sat down in a couch and sipped some hot coffee which was offered to him. "And you? Vince?" He shrugged. "No real opinion. I wanted to get away, you know, but Jiro told us there'd be help to the north. Didn't know what he meant until we came across you." "Jiro? Who's he?" "Some weird Japanese guy. Kinda short. He had this setup that let him become invisible and stuff. Didn't have much time to talk to him or anything." Bryant fumed. So the Combine was here too! "Sir?" blurted Tracy. "Sir, Jiro said something to us before he left. He said that on this world there was no place for other hostilities. It's us against the aliens. I agree with him, Captain Bryant. If we cannot join forces then we'll die. All of us here will die." "Die on Otherworld!" spat Matt. "This accursed land!"