An Alien Rescue (21 page)

Still blinded by the light, she snapped her jaws shut, expecting to feel a skull and bones crush and break between them. She instead released a low-pitched howl of monumental pain as the absence of prey meant her own teeth bit into the opposite jaw through the force of muscle-bound
drive. Blood flooded from the wounds as she thrashed herself around, seeking the male she had allowed to escape. Her anger turned to desperate hate as she realised he had gone; the sustenance she needed for survival was missing. A sound of the cry she made returned like a lengthy sonic echo, indicating there was a large body not too far away. She released another cry and the sound bounced back, and much sooner than previously.
Hah
, she thought,
that stupid male is still disorientated and is heading back towards me
. With a vengeful passion, she sped to meet it as fast as she could with expectant jaws. This time he wouldn’t escape, she promised herself. Her jaws snapped shut like there would be no tomorrow as the body touched her nose. With sounds of metal being pierced and some crystalline teeth shattering, the hull of the second ship was breached. With jaws securely jammed in the ship’s metal super-structure she thrashed herself in every conceivable direction in an effort to free herself. The ship’s drive mechanism succumbed to the flooding water as the craft began to founder. Her body writhed with the effort of a giant, sustained by huge muscles and relentless amounts of energy. Buoyancy faded as internal compartments filled with water and she found it difficult to control her own breathing. Electronic circuits sparked and shorted, electrocuting the commander and his subservient crew long before they drowned. Down they went, destined for some of the deepest depths on Mars. With frantic thrashings from her tail, combined with flashes of blue light, the metal structure and its accompanying partner faded into darkness as the lake and its depth engulfed them… forever.

The escaped male kept swimming, on and on, long after his body told him he should stop to rest before he dies. He wouldn’t stop though, not for a very long time. And as for the mating ritual, he decided he would pass on any future opportunities.

“Our pursuer has gone, just disappeared. One moment it was there, and the next … Nothing!” Phyllis rechecked the displays, relays and sensors, confirming they were all functioning and working perfectly.

Scott considered her statement, then, with a grin of relief, said, “Hey, it’s our lucky day, or perhaps it’s their unlucky day. Who knows?”

He was so relieved the other ship had gone he felt like giving both women a congratulatory hug to celebrate; then decided not to as it might hurt Phyllis and perhaps it was too early to be sure anyway.

“We know we were being pursued, but there were actually three separate unidentified bodies at the one time. One was obviously chasing us, one headed away at great speed following the collision while the other remained stationary, which I think is the one we collided with.” Phyllis turned to face the other two as the final words left her lips. She expected some questions so was waiting to hear them.

“You think we may have struck something? What was it, and has it caused any damage?” asked Scott rapidly without hesitation.

Belinda said there was no damage, but there had been some kind of impact, although it was uncertain what it was with.

“And you say there are no objects anymore
. Is that confirmed?” He asked, while attempting to draw some kind of conclusion from the women’s reports.

“Yes, that’s right. The area is clear with no other vessels or objects within range.”

“Okay …,” he said, thinking hard. “So what the hell
did
we hit?”

Belinda and Phyllis looked at him and shrugged their shoulders
, indicating they didn’t know.

“That was very human behaviour,” he said. “I’ve never seen either of you shrug your shoulders before.”

Belinda replied. “We haven’t either, Scott. It must be your influence.”

“
Uh-huh,” he added smiling, certain she was right.

“I’ve plotted our course and that of the vessel that followed us. It seems we struck something a glancing blow that caused us no damage; but whatever it was we hit eventually sped off at a fantastic speed and went straight for our pursuer. It appears there was another collision, with both bodies coming to an immediate halt at the point of contact.”

“So, apart from the thing that took off toot-sweet, where the hell are the other two so-called bodies?” he asked while shaking his head in confusion.

“They have disappeared. I can only conclude they sank to the lake’s bottom.” Phyllis had spoken the answer softly while looking at her hands as if to remind herself she was injured, wondering if the Greys had paid a well-earned price for her terrible pain.

Scott heard her answer while observing the inspection of her hands, deciding not to ask any more questions associated with her hands or the disappearing objects. The pursuing ship, and whatever else there was, were gone and he was extremely thankful for it.

“Where are we presently heading,” Scott asked
, tactfully changing the subject while trying to adjust the tiny seat that struggled to contain his wider-than-a-Grey’s backside.

“There is a base at the furthest end of the lake, but I don’t know what’s actually there,” answered Belinda, adding, “This craft’s data bank has some information, but not very much.”

She was doing the best she could to control the ship while also attempting to download as much information she could retrieve from its memory bank.

Phyllis was limited to giving verbal assistance and help, which was all she could manage under
her present circumstances. Her attention was deliberately diverted to almost anything other than her hands as it was such an effort to contain the terrible pain. Seeing them only reminded her of her loss. While trying to concentrate her channelled efforts she hoped she could accomplish all her allotted tasks.

A destination was required, a safe place to land and disembark without being caught, or worse. There was also Frell and Drang to locate too, both were captives of the Greys and
possibly hidden somewhere. Turning to her fellow escapees, Belinda said, “It’ll take some time to reach the base on the opposite shore as we are not following a straight course to avoid detection. The ship’s on automatic mode with a pre-programmed route so we should take advantage of this and rest while we can.”

They mentally agreed with the proposal, before Belinda interrupted with a warning that others might overhear any telepathic conversation and they should perhaps only converse by verbal communication from
here on in.

Each nodded to each other at the thought of Greys spying on their messages, so rather than even speak to each other, for the moment anyway, they indicated with body language.

The nuclear submarine was on station, as directed by their command, bang-on target where the UFO sighting had been reported. All systems were running at their maximum efficiency, searching and listening for anything out of the ordinary. Schools of whales were heard, as normal, singing their deep and melancholy songs to one another. Hydrophones received the musical notes, relaying them to computers that searched for hidden patterns and codes that might exist within the relaxing melodies. To the crewmembers whose function it was to monitor the sound, it was a great job; where it wasn’t unheard of for an operative, or the plural, to actually fall asleep at their posts. Other than the whale song, there wasn’t anything else to report. Radio silence with only incoming messages meant a quieter shift for some, while constant monitoring of systems meant doubled hours for others. The usual television watching and movie shows were momentarily cancelled, while meal times were still being reorganised to the hungry dissatisfaction of many.

Shoals of krill attracted the whales, keeping them in small groups and confined to only a few select areas wh
ere they fed. Other families heard the song that sang where the best shoals were and did their best to reach them during daylight hours. They socially interacted with each other instead of competing for resources, as most other species would. They would communicate with each other, helping instead of preventing others from feeding on a source of food. Such is the whale’s community spirit and kinship. What they failed to comprehend and avoid was the awful sound made by the strange metallic beasts and the hurt they often inflicted. Most families had lost many relatives to these strange beings, never knowing where their remains had disappeared to. Occasionally, traces of blood and pieces of their body could be located, but in general, there was never anything substantial and definitely never another word uttered from them after an initial cry of pain and plea for help. Their renegade distant black-and-white coloured cousins would sometimes attack them too, with stabbing teeth and rasping tongues, but their feasting was limited to devouring only what they needed and much of the carcass would remain. The sight of their havoc-wreaking cousins’ livery caused fear and consternation amongst them all, just like the drumming noise from the metal beasts. Both were to be avoided at all costs.

Back in the Martian base Command Centre, the Black Ship’s commander assumed command after he was certain his opposite number had perished in the lake. He had observed the efforts made by his predecessor, considering all the relevant information and collating it for an advantage over those who were responsible for his untimely departure. He would not be making the same fatal mistakes. His first orders were to secure all stations around the lake where the fugitives might arrive at, passing on their departure point information and where the most obvious destinations might be. He saw his present function as one of catching
then quickly destroying. To obliterate the human viruses by turning them into food for the forever hungry marine species that swam in the same lake.

Sensors at the Earth base had been shut down to prevent possible detection by the submarine that hovered directly above. It’s furtive approach was detected long before its arrival, with appropriate actions being taken to prevent
possible discovery. Traffic to and from the base had ceased together with power generating equipment reduced to a bare minimum. A lot of unwanted attention might be the result should a magnetic anomaly be detected from their base and that would without doubt be disastrous. Sensors had also indicated there were several atomic weapons on board the overhead vessel, more than enough to make a substantial dent in the seabed. It was understood that humans tended to be trigger-happy, where a shoot first and ask questions later policy was a fearsome but typical reality. To have a modern submarine sitting above them, full of technological monitoring equipment and weapons of mass destruction, made the Greys nervous. The base shouldn’t be there and it would create an immense problem for the Empire should its presence be detected, discovered, or worse still … destroyed.

Phyllis woke up with a lengthy yawn, stretching her limbs as she stirred, wishing she hadn’t as her hands reacted painfully. The submersible’s ticking-over motor had lulled them into a deep sleep with its low murmur. Rubbing her eyes with the heels of her hands, she felt relaxed, even though her hands
still hurt like blazes. The pain was chronic, enough to make most scream for mercy or perhaps death. However, she belonged to the off-world human colony where extraordinary tolerance and perseverance was accepted as the norm. She was no different to any other member of her community, just doing what anyone else would have done. Scott saw her as extremely brave and courageous, a remarkable woman and was proud to be by her side. What the two women didn’t understand was,
he
would gladly give his life to save them from any harm. He also felt some level of personal failure for what happened to Phyllis. They were actually aware of how he felt, but didn’t want him to know. They would also give their own lives for Scott and each other, and for the success of the mission; such was their devotion for the safety of their kind and their friends.

Phyllis made a closer inspection of her blackened hands, surveying the terrible damage she found so difficult to accept. The explosion had blown off her fingers, cauterising the open flesh in the process, sealing the wound against infection as well as preventing the loss of blood and body fluids.
The smell of burned flesh and singed hair persisted. Her suit was miraculously unscathed, clean and without apparent damage. Phyllis wondered if her hands might have been safe from harm if she had been wearing gloves made from the same blue material. She felt they would have.
I must make a strong recommendation when we return to base
, she surprisingly thought, wondering if they would ever make it back.

While the others continued to sleep, she carried out a thorough investigation of the submersible’s equipment and capabilities. The communication panel wasn’t easy to decipher, with the strangest hieroglyphics for legends and instructions. She found this form of communication very confusing, but managed to work out a system whereby the interpretation of
each function could be deciphered. Some of the most recent and up-to-date messages she managed to tap-into included the feared knowledge that all the lake’s stations were secure. The realisation of their predicament struck home sharply, there was nowhere left to go, no place to run to and no sanctuary for the hunted. Should they attempt to land they would undoubtedly be caught, then what? She shuddered at the thought of what could happen.

Her thoughts of despair were timely disturbed by Scott murmuring as he awakened. Her feelings of despair faded as he pulled himself upright in the straining seat, as he unexpectedly said, “Jesus, I could eat a flaming horse!”

Phyllis couldn’t help it, she laughed like she had never laughed before, releasing built-up tensions and strain as she did so.

Here we are
, she thought while in the throes of laughing,
deep beneath the surface of a subterranean lake and stuck inside a stolen submersible with nowhere safe to go. My hands are wrecked beyond recognition, the Grey Empire are after our blood and guts, we have destroyed countless numbers of Grey clones and wrecked part of a secret base, possibly causing the destruction of two other vessels and their devilish crews; and to top it all, we sneaked into a complex that doesn’t officially exist.
“Phew,” she said between laughs. “Where the hell does it all end?”

Scott looked at her in surprise, having heard her cussing words.

“Oh no!” she called out. “I’m thinking and speaking like Scott, for Jesus sake!”

Scott
almost jumped at the suddenness of her verbal outburst, eyes wide open but with dark sagging bags beneath both.

“Holy-shit,” he shouted while trying to comprehend what might be happening. “What’s the friggen matter, Phyllis? Have the Grey
rats found us or what?”

Her continued laughter alerted him to the fact they couldn’t be under attack or anything remotely like it, unless she had broken down under pressure and
the intense pain.

“Hey, hang on in there Phyllis,” he asked. “We’re still in one piece and free, so it can’t be that bad. Can it?” He wondered what kind of response she would reply with.

“I’m fine, Scott. Honestly.”

“Blood and sand, Phyllis, don’t do that to me again. Please!”

He saw her hands and the smile left his face. She saw the look and chose not to comment.

Belinda had been lying at an angle to the control panel when she awakened. With a tired yawn, she asked, “What’s all the noise?” She yawned loudly. “I feel hungry, is there anything to eat?”