An Alien Rescue (20 page)

Phyllis was already
moving, telepathically announcing they should both follow her. The Grey commander heard her and knew exactly where they were and what they were intending to do. He instructed his army of little Greys to catch them, stopping them at all costs from entering the submersible.

Scott saw them first, thinking he was seeing things. What at first looked like a grey-coloured tsunami racing along the beach turned out to be a dense wall of little figures, all
the same colour with large and dark almond-shaped eyes. They were running as if the devil himself was behind them, their spindly little legs going like the clappers. The soft sand appeared not to hinder their hurried progress as they seemed to get very close in no time at all. With a cacophony of sound they homed-in on the three escapees as they climbed on board.

“Everything is all right
. There is nothing to worry about. We are here to help you,” was repeated time and again. The squealing-toned voices and the suddenness of the little Greys did nothing to convince Scott they had anything but bad intentions towards the three of them.

“Fucking little bastards,” he shouted at them, knowing he was wasting his breath but felt all the better for letting rip with a verbal insult. He remembered them from his previous exploits on
the moon, recalling the awful sound of their voices and scaly-like skin, wanting to run into their ranks, ripping arms and heads off. Then the memory of the hybrid project hit him like a blinding light, the prospect of his body-parts being used to finalise it.

“Get aboard and start the thing’s … engine … or whatever it is that propels it. I’ve some unfinished business to attend to first.”

Holding the sphere at arm’s length as if the distance would save him if he got his calculations wrong, he bent down onto one knee for steadiness. Pointing the implement of destruction’s channels towards the unsuspecting advancing army, he carefully removed the seal. The beams swept across the little guys like a brilliant scythe, slicing through them like they were stalks of corn, felling them in one single clean sweep. There were no screams of pain, no shouts for help and no more squealing words. The voices died as quickly as the bodies fell, leaving an eerie silence except for that of gentle waves lapping on the once-sterile shore. Where there had been an advancing grey-coloured horde there was now only a jumble of misshapen lumps with occasional dashes of green and splashes of pink. Slight wisps of smoke rose from the uneven piles of body-parts, forcing Scott to turn his head away, slanting his eyes and wincing at the sight.

“Poor little sons-of-bitches,” he cursed through clenched teeth.

Carefully replacing the seal, he stood-up to see the greater extent of the damage. The pungent smell of burnt something hit his nostrils with a vengeance; reminding him of a barbeque that had gone severely wrong a long time before. The horrible sight of little mutilated bodies didn’t bother him in the slightest, he knew it was either this or their capture. He didn’t fancy being sliced and diced to further the Grey cause so the killing had to be done. Then the other smell arrived, slight at first, then all-powerful in its putrefying intensity. It stank of something Scott could never begin to describe, a concentrated smell that tried to turn his stomach inside out because he could taste it too; such was the strength of its odour. He turned and set off to rejoin his shipmates.

The Grey commander hadn’t been too far behind his throng of clones, but far enough to miss the death and mutilation that had just taken place.

Scott climbed aboard, double-checking the sphere’s seal before entering. The hatch automatically closed behind him as a murmur of sound filled the air. Belinda followed Phyllis’s instructions without fault or question, stirring the ship’s motors into action.

A second wave of clones had reached the ship, frantically trying to open the outer hatch as it slipped from its mooring. The commander understood there was no chance of opening it without the proper equipment, but allowed the clones to continue their wasted efforts nonetheless. As small bodies were being dragged-under as the ship submerged beneath the waves, he issued a command for a secondary vehicle to be prepared and made available. From another inlet, a considerable distance away, appeared another ship, identical to the first. While its own systems were still booting-up its hatch opened as it docked. The commander watched the last traces of disturbed water fade as the stolen submarine disappeared beneath the surface, its forgotten wake broken by the thrashing ripples made by clones attempting to swim. They too faded after a while, and the commander never even noticed. His strict determination had changed from straightforward capture of the human foes to immediate destruction following the recent events. His superiors and predecessors had underestimated the humans; the destruction of an Empire ship alone was proof enough of that fact. But he too had been fooled into thinking it would be easy to capture the three pathetic creatures that originated from the blue virus-infected planet. His junior had been right after all. However, the humans had made a mockery of both him and
his kind and that was something he would not accept. He now planned to destroy the submerged ship that presently carried them away, sinking it to the lowest depths of the lake where it would remain for all time, until the system’s middle-aged sun eventually turned into a supernova. That would destroy its remains, along with the rest of the planetary system when all hell broke loose. His aged brown face and deep wrinkles almost released a smile of mental success before he remembered he still had to get them into his sights first.

Sliding into the pilot’s seat, the commander mentally barked successive orders, which he didn’t need to repeat or say please to. His subordinates jumped at his commands and carried out whatever he wanted or desired them to do, even at risk of their own unimportant lives.

That was the thing about the Grey Empire, that even if you were a Grey, or otherwise, you were actually seen as expendable to the cause. This brown and wrinkled being was no different to any other member of his race, especially as each of them accepted they might be replaced at any time for whatever reason. Hence, the lack of concern shown to the plight of the little guys who drowned while attempting something the commander knew was foolish to try. Such was the selfish mentality of the Grey Empire and their philosophy towards other species and their own. Should the human race fall foul of the Grey Empire, without the protection of the Ruling Council of Six, there would be murder and mayhem around the globe; and all without mercy, quarter or precedent. Scott wasn’t fully aware of the danger he was actually in, he would prefer to see everything through the eyes of an earth-bound human wearing rose-tinted glasses. His military experience couldn’t quite reach the limits and dangers of the solar system and its surroundings, where awesome weapons were once fired in anger to totally obliterate an enemy into dust. Those who now lived hadn’t known such times and hopefully wouldn’t. All the species, except the Grey Empire who were ultimately responsible for the carnage that transpired from the horror of the war that ran for such a time in the so-called heavens, had recorded and made available such information of those times for all who wished to learn. It was hoped that such knowledge of destruction would prevent it happening again. However, none would commit themselves to quote the scriptures in any way, to resurrect the all-but forgotten past to throw light on a time when there was war among the species, which now by all accounts, lived in peace. What he also never realised was that the Christian Holy Bible and similar writings of other religions was loosely based on the terrible events that took place such a long time before. The human aspect and misguided belief of holy men and their absolute sanctity was the gel to hold such damning messages of war and destruction together, in such a way that humankind might also learn from the mistakes made by others and avoid the pitfalls they too might suffer. If it worked, then all is well and good; but as wars on planet Earth seemed to persist with the hypocritical blessings of so-called religious leaders, it was just pure hostility and war mongering to the religious bigotry extreme.

With a smug look across his face, the Grey commander steered his craft towards the escaping ship that, for the moment, was deep and getting deeper by the second. Its indicated blip on the console’s screen was all the information needed by the Grey to guide hi
s own submarine towards his quarry. He knew it was only a matter of time until the pursued ship would lie at the lake’s bottom. He almost grinned.

It was in the deepest part of the lake where the male approached the female, hoping his courage and strength would assist him to survive the scenario he was about to endure. His desire to sow his seed and spread his genes overtook his sense of survival. The female observed his approach, carefully timing her actions and body language in an attempt to persuade him to come even closer, close enough to strike the first blow. It could be over for him in less than a second and he wouldn’t know what had bit him! And even if he did, she considered, he knew what the risks were before he ventured towards her, accepting the eventual outcome.

The dorsal fin played the water across his back with the long tail hardly needing to move at all. His concentration was focussed on the massive bulk directly ahead of him, ready to react in a micro-second should he suspect his presence wasn’t desired, except to be eaten by that body he so badly desired to mate with.

She waited, watching his slow and careful approach. His body was tense, she knew, to the point where he would attempt escape should she give the wrong signals. However, she was in need of a mate so would allow him to come closer, but not just any male would do so she too was tensed and ready for action.

Her position in the lake never changed, fins treading the water to maintain her static position. With partially closed eyes, she put on a half-asleep appearance of not being fully aware of his caution, hoping to minimise the danger he considered himself to be risking. The trick, she thought, was to lead him into a sense of false security, where he might allow himself to believe he could mate with her and hopefully survive the experience. Alternatively, she might just devour him straightaway, before he has any kind of inkling she doesn’t consider him suitable as
a father to her offspring. Either way, she knew he would die anyway; it was just a matter of
when
, and what would precede it.

His speed of approach lessened, his body tightened with tension, ready to turn tail and get the hell out fast should he suspect the female in front of him would rather feast on his flesh than feel the pleasure. His eyes were wide, daring not to look away in case she struck while h
e was distracted for the briefest of moments. Her size and ability to move faster than he ever could forced him to be wary enough to suspect the worst possible scenario. Her sexually active and ripened ovaries and hormones were attracting him like a magnet and he was but a poor piece of iron that couldn’t resist the pull. Her scent was driving his instincts wild, whereupon the desire to mate was becoming overwhelming. He wasn’t completely devoid of sensible thoughts concerning his own welfare, they were as alive as at any other time. They just happened to be suppressed by his
own
raging hormones, forcing him to enter the valley of darkness and maybe death.

Slowly, ever so slowly, her eyes opened wider, neither blinking nor turning away from him. He stopped, hesitated, pausing for effect. Her tail wafted
the scent towards him, aided by the various fins along the length of her enormous body. The additional smell and its concentration filled him with a sense of euphoria, a second-to-none feeling of happiness, joy and carnal pleasure. It had always been like this, for every male who has ever mated in the past and will ever mate in the future to come. She continued to hover, still not making any moves to alert him of the dire consequences he was presently facing. With teeth a whole lot bigger than his and a mouth that could almost swallow him whole, it was necessary to make him believe there was a chance he might mate and still manage to escape death. He had to believe she was slower than she actually was, possibly injured or just dim-witted. It had worked in the past, three times with hopeful but disappointed suitors. She expected her clever tactics to work yet again, raising the number to a tantalising and tasty foursome. This randy young male would be sucked-in by her scent of deceit, fooled into approaching a voracious enemy under the misapprehension she had chosen him as mate. The crimson coloured belly of a senior ranking male was missing from this hopeful young buck, where only the youthful adolescent silver scales flashed and reflected through the lake’s deep gloom and darkness. How this upstart dare even begin to consider he might be in with a chance, she wondered, to pass on his inexperienced genes to
her
young. She was the cleverest of her species, one whose evolution had been assisted by the unexpected mutation of an abnormally large brain cavity. Her ability to think and consider alternatives to the norm, to adapt and to plan ahead was a new beginning for her species, would be passed on to future generations. Selecting the correct mate wasn’t just important, it was crucial. However, she reconsidered, the approaching youngster didn’t lack courage and his tactful approach sweetened her palate for youthful and tender meat, succulent and smooth, without the usual chewy gristle from older bodies and tired bones. “Perhaps he is worthy of mating with after all,” she asked herself. “Yes-s-s-s,” she calmly answered, “he is-s-s-s, then he can be
eaten-n-n-n
!”

Her image was sharply focused on his retinas, unmoving and watching through large bulbous eyes. With an almost broken will he wanted to dash for her, taking her as quickly as he could then get away again without so much as a thank you and look after the kids in my absence. But his own mind was quite superior too, to the point where he could control his emotions under extreme pressure. He was indeed the best suitor for her and their young would rule the underground lakes for evermore, taking a backward species forward in technological advances and levels of great enlightenment. She just had to make him feel secure enough to make the move, believing there was a good chance of
his surviving.

A shiver
of excitement ran down his dorsal spines, making him quiver and tingle. The vibration transmitted itself through the watery depths to her receptors, informing her he was almost ready to make his move. His penis was hardening and extending itself in anticipation as he restarted his approach. The scent from her reproductive system was stronger than ever and his attraction to her was increasing at an exponential rate. His powers of concentration were under attack, an overwhelming onslaught by opposing forces, neutralising his will for survival. She was in his sights and his nostrils and he was desperate to be inside her.

Her approach caught him off guard, taking him by surprise. Had she wanted to devour him it would have been easy in his present state of mental stupor. However, her approach had kicked him back into a state of equilibrium, where his conscious thoughts and reactions were restored to normal.

She motioned forwards, as straight as an arrow, slowly and without any indication she might be on the attack. He knew his big moment had arrived, the chance to follow their kind’s mating ritual and pass on his genetic lineage to this female. Her gradual approach displayed her extended cranium, a strange sight to him. He wondered if this might account for her slowness, believing she may be hindered by some genetic disorder. If so, he considered, then escape should be easy and he would live to mate again. If he could have smiled a sense of self-satisfaction he would have.

Split second timing was critical for the mating ritual. Her eventual hold on the male had to be released just long enough to allow her to turn about and catch him again, before he could regain his senses and escape.

It was a tricky situation, a plan of predictions and movements, timed to perfection for a kill. Her advantage was that only she knew when the ritual was complete, with his hasty departure dependant on her signals. She needed to devour him for sustenance during the gestation period, keeping her alive while her bulk slowed her, making her vulnerable to attack and predation. His life was payment for the continuance of his line, but she had to collect it before the purse was closed.

Distance between them was less than her length, and brown-coloured teeth bared themselves as she opened her cavernous mouth. The front teeth were incisors, long and narrow with points so sharp they sparkled like diamond-tipped drill-bits. The rear sets were wider and serrated, row after row of carving knives, all sharpened and ready for dinner. The tooth material was pure crystalline, harder than tempered steel, grown from birth and perfectly suited to stabbing, slashing and
tearing a body to pieces.

The gaping cavern of lethal teeth disappeared as she turned away, rotating one hundred and eighty degrees. This was the most reassuring action to comfort him, a sign she wanted his attention. He could either move forward to mate … Or he might also turn around and swim away as fast as he could. His desire drove him forward. Rotating on his longitudinal axis as if on a spit, he approached, sliding beneath her purple belly. With his own pressed tightly against hers he adjusted position to enter. As if experienced, he was in. The sexual connection was complete and a buzz of excitement passed between them at such a frequency their scales rattled like demented tambourines in a howling gale. Her huge armour plated scales parted, separating to allow his to entwine with her own. With flexing muscles, she slammed them shut, trapping his between her own. The precipitated iron from the surrounding water had coated them with a hard layer of iron-oxide, rusty-red to brown in colour, making the surface rough like sand-paper and as tough as a medieval Knight’s not-so shiny armour. Firmly locked together they could only writhe, performing a ritualistic dance, possibly of death for him but definitely life generating for her. His
mind felt as if it had left the confines of his body, swimming towards the surface and atmosphere that lay directly above. He saw multitudes of bubbles floating in his mind, mixed with the strange sensation of weight pressing down upon him. His years of his life flashed before him, the bright lights that had haunted his dreams from the lake’s roof, screaming past at fantastic speed with shockwaves hitting him hard like with the force of a rock tumbling from overhead. With rolling eyes he didn’t mind if death waited for him after all. This was something worth dying for, the feeling of ecstasy combined with pain, all culminating in an everlasting orgasm of unequalled proportions. His scales were jammed like steel plates in an engineer’s vice with no escape possible until she was ready to release the pressure. They drifted in a gentle current of their own making, tails and fins operating on their own eccentric accord, while their minds were oblivious to the distant and almost silent sound of something else approaching. If death was part of the deal for this pleasure then so be it, he unconsciously agreed. It was the highlight of every male’s life to mate and he had achieved it at such an early age. He should feel proud of his achievement.

The mating was complete, she knew, but he didn’t. Their bodies still went through the motions while she planned the next move, a move that had to be executed to perfection, because failure might mean the death of herself and her unborn offspring. His body was gripped solidly, almost as if it
had become part of her own. With scales still meshed she began to turn, gently and quietly, rotating to disorientate him in case he attempted to make a dash for freedom when the chance arose. Any hesitation on his part would be to her benefit, allowing her the opportunity to sink her teeth into his head with a deadly snap. With a reduced mating effort from her, his mind began to stir back to reality. He felt his scales held firmly between hers, trying to free them without making it obvious. She felt the tugs, small to begin with, followed by an increased effort. It was time to end his pleasurable moment … and to feast.

Escape seemed impossible as he exerted himself while testing her grip. A quick thrash of his mighty tail proved fruitless, a wasted effort. He was at her mercy, he realised, hoping there might be a chance of luck or that death might be quick. A sensation of doom ran through him as he prepared to be slaughtered by his one-night-stand lover.

She continued to spin themselves around, increasing the rate of revolutions until his mind was spinning in consequence. A vortex of water appeared that continued to follow them after her efforts subsided. The momentum meant the spinning within his head would maintain his imbalance and confusion, enabling her to release him so she could reposition herself for the kill. It would bring him in line with her jaws. It would be history for her companion and sustenance for her.

His eyes watched, her tail twitched and twisted as if to thrash, but didn’t. He recognised she was about to make a manoeuvre, to alter her position. But with his extra bulk attached to hers, it would probably be a waste
of energy … unless he was released!

The spinning continued unabated, his mind dizzy with the sensation. He tried with all his might to regain his full mental potential, watching her tail and fins for any sign she might be about to make a move on her own. Then it came, like a flash across his eyes. The tail began to quiver in anticipation of a violent act, tensed to thrash herself about to face him head-on. Recognising her tail and its proposed direction of travel in relation to their present orientation, a sensation of mental stability was realised. He was ready to make a break for freedom at the first opportunity.

Her scales slammed open with the loudest of clatter as her tail flipped her around. The vortex whipped at her scales as she rotated herself to face the opposite direction, opening her jaws wide as she turned. It was all so easy, she thought, as she began to enclose his head with her mouth. The speed of her movement was much too quick for him to recover his strength and sense of direction. What he had anticipated as being ready to escape was like a drunk believing they were sober. He just couldn’t make the effort to move himself out of harm’s way before she had completed her move. He considered himself already dead as her teeth encircled him; but just as her muscles were about to snap her jaws shut, with teeth piercing his skull with a vengeance, a sharp beam of light caught her eye. The surprise of an unexpected light froze her mid-bite, forcing her to take stock of what might actually be happening. Was she herself in some kind of danger, did she need to rapidly get away, or was it something simple and innocent? With darting eyes trying to formulate what might be occurring, the thing suddenly appeared out of the darkness like a predator, upon her in an instant. The brilliant light shone from the nose of a huge body that was as black as the deepest part of the lake she had ever visited. The same body struck her hard, hitting her across the back with more than just a glancing thump. Her hesitation cost her dear, because he saw his chance and thrashed his tail as hard as he’d ever done in the past. He was gone in an instant, not bothering to see if he was being chased or not.