Invasion Earth Page 5

  Moe indicated to Trist that he would like to talk to him alone, and with a wink and a slight motion of his hand, induced Trist to go out back of the lab with him. Stupidly, Trist followed him. The two were standing in a dead-end alley, but Moe no longer looked like Moe. He had morphed into a ten-foot-tall, green monster with arms that reached out at least four feet with two large claws, similar to a lobster, where hands should be. The claws had a sharp edge laced with thorns on their outside edge. A triangularly shaped head held two large eyes, now staring at him. The eyes, sitting at the top of points to the triangle, were separated by three-foot antennae extend from the top of the beast’s head. Its feet were two feet long with three long-clawed toes. An armor-like shell covered its arms, legs, and upper torso. Trist had seen Tonkians before but not this close up and this angry.

  Rats, he thought. What could inspire more confidence than a puke-green monster with angry eyes? Mary must have scented hostility from Moe and removed a cloak from Trist’s eyes.

  Unsure of what was happening, Trist asked, “What can I help you with, Moe?”

  Moe (the monster) had been turned to one side; he swung back toward Trist with his arm extended. The blow, if it had landed, would have removed Trist’s head. Dropping to his knees, Trist felt the breeze from the blow pass over him. Luckily, Trist had been put on alert by Moe’s appearance.

  Trist dodged to the left and ran several yards out of the Tonkian’s reach.

  “Hey, what was that all about?”

  Moe stood looking coldly at Trist. “Mary will belong to me.”

  Trist watched the creature’s hands and feet. He had little defense against his opponent’s strength or its razor-sharp claws. It was hard to make a plan of attack against a larger, stronger, and better armed opponent.

  “You’re not good enough to mate with Mary. She’ll be mine after I kill you.”

  “I’m not going to mate with Mary, Moe. I’ll never stand between you and her. I’m here trying to help your people.”

  “That’s not a worry of mine. After Mary and I consume you, we will be invulnerable to quartzline. We can perpetuate our species after the asteroids have passed.”

  “That’s what I thought. This was never about Mary, it’s all about you protecting yourself. I knew you were not too smart, but didn’t figure you for a coward.”

  Damn, Trist thought, I’m dead. If I can keep him talking long enough, maybe Mary will come out to help.

  The sound of the door swinging open surprised both fighters, and Trist turned to see another monster emerge from the laboratory.

  “Who are you? Curly or Larry?”

  “I’m Mary, My Hero.”

  “Help me, Mary, he’s trying to kill me,” shouted Trist.

  “Of course he is,” replied Mary. “I told you before we came here to watch him carefully. But I, being female, cannot interfere in a battle of males. I have removed his cloak and will not let him influence your mind. That’s all I can do.”

  “This is not a battle of males. I came to help your planet survive the asteroids. Not to mate, and certainly not to fight hostile males.”

  Mary stood still and watched quietly. She would be no help to Trist. He returned to watching Moe carefully. If he hits me, thought Trist, I will go down hard and will probably never get up again. The Tonkian looked invulnerable and Trist knew he had little chance in beating him one on one.

  Trist looked around wildly searching for a weapon, keeping track of Moe with his peripheral sight. There was little to see: a few garbage cans, covered with their lids. They were probably full and too heavy to throw. There were also three pallets stacked near the lab’s door. Trist ran to the garbage cans, removed one of the lids, and held it up as a shield.

  Moe seemed to swell, and crouched slightly. He blasted at Trist with surprising speed, swinging his closer right arm at Trist’s head. Trist went to the ground with a forward roll, and passed under the vicious blow, regained his feet, and again backed up a few steps. They had done little other than changing places in the alley. Moe attacked Trist again with the same move he’d previously used. This time, Trist crouched and deflected the Tonkian’s blow with the garbage can lid and turned into the attacker to land a solid blow to Moe’s torso.

  Trist had never been a strong fighter, but he knew that his punch had power. If he had hit another human, the man would have broken ribs. With the Tonkian, there was no reaction. Trist had more pain in his fist and arm than he could see on his foe.

  Faced with a vastly superior opponent who seemed impervious to pain, Trist figured his best option to live much longer was to flee. Then he remembered how fast Mary ran. Scratch the running option. He remembered that Marines, in the movies he’d seen, always made a big point about trying to take the high ground. He had never understood why, but anything was better than just facing another charge by Moe. With a short run, Trist jumped up on the pallets, the only high ground around.

  Moe immediately ran at him with both hands clenched high over his head and swung down hard at Trist. It was a tremendous blow with incredible force. It would have cut Trist in two if it had landed on him. Trist had leaped from the pallets in the direction of the door. He hoped to get back inside the lab, and maybe there he could find some kind of weapon.

  Moe’s blow had smashed the pallet stack, and several small splinters stuck in Trist’s arms and legs. One of the large boards hit Trist in the back, driving him against the wall of the building. Stunned, he still pulled on the door latch. Locked. Of course it would be locked.

  “Can you pull that door open, Mary?”

  “I cannot help in a battle of males,” she repeated.

  Trist picked up the board, a three-foot chunk of hardened lumber. It must have been one of the supporting timbers. He waited for the Tonkian’s next charge. He had noticed that Moe was not a great fighter. Each of his attacks were the same. Apparently swing hard and hope you hit the other guy was as advanced as his battle plans evolved. Clearly, he would try to smash and kill. No jumping, no feigning, nothing subtle. Knowing what was coming, Trist stepped forward into the next charge and swung the board hard from a batter’s stance. He hit Moe’s left arm hard and felt the board get ripped from his grip. The blow also threw the Tonkian several feet to the left.

  He quickly picked up the board again and backed away from the injured creature. Moe’s hand now dangled from his forearm. He did not appear to be in any pain, but looked with a puzzled surprise at the injured arm. It was the time in this fight, as it is in many fights, when the aggressor who had thought he was unbeatable, suddenly realized that there was a strong possibility that he could lose.

  At the same time, Trist began to think he had a chance for victory. With his new optimism, his brain kicked into high gear and he began to consider his enemy. It had weaknesses. Why not use them. Could noise be a weapon? Tonkians were silent warriors, perhaps they were unable to handle loud sound.

  Trist screamed loudly and ran at the Tonkian. The creature looked behind him. He seemed confused. His antennae flattened hard against his head. In a defensive move, Moe swung his uninjured arm and Trist ducked it quickly, then pivoted and crashed the board hard against the back of Moe’s right knee. His balance lost, the Tonkian fell forward onto the alley’s surface. Trist swung the board as hard as he could against its head and was delighted to see one eye torn from his opponent’s skull.

  He began another swing, but the enemy scrambled away and regained his feet. Moe stood and looked quietly at Trist. Clearly he was not defeated yet.

  As the Tonkian picked up his eye and began to push if back into its socket, Trist backed over the spilled garbage and tipped the second can, spreading the mess before him.

  Trist noticed that the beast did not like to step into garbage. Perhaps with his greater weight his footing on loose material was less secure. For a minute, he stood trying to catch his breath. Moe did not seem tired at all. Rather, he seemed puzzled by his injured arm, now that his eye had been reinserted into its socket a
nd seemed to be working. Trist knew he had to attack to win. Standing and waiting for death would accomplish nothing. He was worried that Moe would be able to heal his left arm. He feigned to the left, spun to his right, and smashed the beast hard on his mouth. It was a righteous blow, landing exactly as planned. The only problem was, it did not seem to affect the Tonkian in any way.

  Moe swung his right arm and landed a blow on Trist’s arm, knocking him ten feet to the left. It was a solid, powerful hit delivered by the forearm, not the edge of the hand. Trist smashed down hard to the black-top and momentarily lost consciousness. He began to see light from the pale sun again and rolled rapidly away from the beast.

  It was standing still, looking at him silently. Trist understood then that it didn’t want to kill him fast, it was enjoying the beating he was inflicting. Still, there was a small amount of clear liquid running from its mouth and Trist was sure he had at least caused it some pain.

  Moe stepped back several feet, moving his legs in what seemed like a dance. Then he began to move straight at Trist. Trist began screaming loudly and throwing armfuls of trash at it. It seemed to slow, but still swung its right arm at Trist, who again ducked the blow. Trist threw the garbage can at the beast, but his foot slipped on a round object and he lost his balance and Moe easily swatted the can away. Reaching down, Trist located the object he slipped on, which was a bottle. A heavy bottle, the kind good champagne comes in.

  He noticed Mary still standing quietly, watching. A fat lotta help she was.

  He closed his hand on the bottle’s neck and broke the far end off against the brick wall. Time to find out how tough the armor actually was. He feigned at the beast. It was learning fast and didn’t fall for the fake. Trist moved to the right as fast as he could and when Moe swung his arm again, Trist ducked low and thrust the broken bottle hard into the carapace opening above its leg and below the ribs. It went deep in the monster. It stood and began to try pulling the bottle out.

  Trist retrieved his board and swung hard against the creature’s right arm. A solid blow that resulted in a loud crack. The arm dangled loosely.

  Trist swung again; this attack was aimed at the head of the bottle, driving it into the creature several inches more.

  Moe let out a soft moan and fell over on his left side.

  At last, thought Trist, a little head-way. He used the board. He rained blow after blow onto the head of the beast, attempting to dislodge its eyes again. When they had both been dislodged, he swatted them away.

  Although it was blind and had two broken arms, Trist knew the creature was still a threat.

  He circled it and began pounding on the head of the bottle until its legs straightened and it fell limply onto the roadway.

  Trist knew it was dead because Mary, or the thing that once was Mary, came over and began to feed on Moe’s abdomen.

  Trist backed up to the wall and slumped down to a sitting position. His head hung low between his knees. He was bone-deep exhausted. The pain inflicted by the Tonkian throbbed with a continuing pain. Still, his greatest pain had been inflicted by Mary. Now he could see her as she actually was: a creature, hideous in form and shape. Still she feasted on the carcass of what used to be Moe. No longer was she cloaking his mind.

  She raised her head and looked at him slowly.

  “Are you going to try to eat me now?” said Trist.

  “Of course not, my Hero Warrior. You are still alive.”

  Now with his eyes unclouded by Mary, everything began to make more sense to him. The seats and chairs were large because the Tonkians were huge. The heat in the shower and the acidic soap were perfect for her armored body. The speed and strength she ran with was because she was very strong and had legs six feet long.

  While Trist was watching her, she morphed back into the Mary he knew.

  “Why did you change back to Mary,” he asked? “Is my knowledge of your true form that frightening to you?”

  “Why do you look at me with disapproving eyes, Trist? You’ve always known I was a Tonkian.”

  “Because I have realized in the last few minutes that you may have been stalking me all this time. But I also know that you could have killed and consumed me at any time. I have no choice but to believe you, even though you may kill me.”

  “No. Not true. You don’t understand, My Hero, that what I’ve told you has always been the truth. I’m a female trying to save my people and myself. It’s true that you were a pawn in the game, but you were and are our only hope. Despite everything that’s happened, you know now that I care for you to the base of my soul. You’ve been my protector and a true hero.”

  “Well, I’m finished. There’s nothing more I can do. You and your friends in there can kill and eat me. That may give you immunity. You’ll be able to perpetuate your species. Your planet will be saved and that’s all you ever wanted from me.”

  She began to walk toward him, but he shrank from her touch. She crossed the alley slowly, lowering herself and she leaned against the building opposite Trist. She began to cry with uncontrollable sobbing and spasms of grief.

  Trist watched her without compassion.

  As she gained control of herself, she looked at him again.

  “Let’s leave here now and return to the exigator. I’ll transport you back to earth now. I can’t stand the way you’re looking at me. I feel the doubt and your revulsion at my true appearance. I should never have cloaked myself with the shape of a human female. I understand why you hate me now. I can only say I’m sorry and the weak excuse that I believed I was making your time on my world easier.”

  “Please do not cloak my mind again.”

  “I will not, My Hero.”

  “What is your Tonkian name?”

  “I am Izixebi.”

  “Let’s go back to your apartment and think this out. It would be futile to return to the laboratory. The other techs will see that Moe is gone and that I’m all beat up. There’s nothing there but more grief.”

  Izixebi picked him up and ran to the car.

  TWO CULTURES

  Dejected now and bereft of hope, Trist and Izixebi returned to her apartment. She went into the kitchen. Trist sat in the lone chair, his hands cradling his head.

  Remembering this burning failure reminded him of the grief of his father when the bad news had arrived. His mother’s melanoma had grown and metastasized. Her body was shutting down rapidly.

  She had held his hand and looked deeply into his eyes.

  “Trist,” she said, “you need to comfort him. Sure, I would like to live longer, but as you can see, no hope exists. I would like to be here to meet the woman who marries my wonderful son and the grandchildren they would have. I wanted to hold them and to watch them grow. That would have been sweet. It saddens me now that I will not see these things.

  “Remember that life is the one gift that cannot be kept. One onerous debt we all must pay. I hate to leave in the middle of this marvelous movie, but an end comes to all. Please feel no sorrow for me. He was a great husband and showed me a wonderful life. He gave me you. My eternity is and always has been with you. All movies end. This is my goodbye to you. Please don’t bring him back again. I want to be alone with my memories.”

  They had not returned. His mother had died three days later. His father’s grief was unrelenting and he died less than three months later. It was so impotent to think that life had still existed, but nothing could be done to save either of his parents.

  Trist knew then and was still resolved that every attempt to save life was worth it. He would not stop trying to save Izixebi and the people of Tonk.

  She came back from the kitchen and sat quietly on the bed.

  “I tried to fix something to eat. Nothing sounded good. I threw the whole mess away. How could they turn on us while we still had a chance?” said Izixebi.

  Trist stood and began pacing, trying to find the words to express his beliefs to Izixebi.

  “They haven’t wrecked my hope. If anything, they’ve
strengthened my resolve to continue fighting. There has to be something more to try. I tell you now, Izixebi, I refuse to be defeated. Work with me, help me come up with the answer.”

  Izixebi turned her head to look at him. “I had forgotten your warrior spirit, and that you never give up.”

  “I’m no hero, or warrior, I’m just a man who sees our quest as something we can’t stop pursuing. Life is here. Life is precious. We need to reevaluate what we’ve done and determine what we’ve not done so that we can together forge ahead and succeed.”

  Izixebi looked at him again with a hopeless, beaten look. “I’ve burned myself out thinking of options. I’m down to injecting some of your blood into a male Tonkian and me. I would then breed with him, and possibly the children would be resistant. Since that might not provide total immunity, I would go to a deep cave to have the children, and seal us in until the asteroid belt has passed. The problem with that scenario is that it’s the last option. If we did not pass full immunity to the children, they would die when they left the cave and our race would be wiped out. Not much of an option, is it?”

  “As a final option, it might be what you’re forced into. My idea right now is that we try to find what made me resistant. What is it in my life that gave me a body that can survive that which kills everyone else? Let’s examine the last holocaust. Did it kill all the other animals also?”

  “Yes. Those animals who were in the areas where the Tonkians died were killed.”

  “How about the plant life?”

  “As far as we could determine, it was unaffected.”

  ”Perhaps a vegetarian diet would provide the answer.”

  “Tonkians do not eat plants,” said Izixebi. We are carnivores. We don’t have the digestive capability to eat plants. It would be like you eating plastic or hair. It would bind us up and kill us in agony.”

  “That kind of kills your last option, doesn’t it? If you survived, and all the other animals died, you would soon starve to death.”

  “It would be tough, but there would be a lot of dead meat lying around. It could be frozen or preserved for a long time. Also, our digestive tracts contain protozoa. We could mix our feces with plant life and when the protozoa digested the plants, we could use them as a food source. And of course if we had to, we could eat fish. Fish are not affected by quartzline and we can eat their flesh, although it is quite distasteful to us. We could sustain life for a long time and hopefully nature would begin evolving other animal life.”