Scrapyard Ship Page 4

  “ Please, refer to me as Ricket…”

  “Whatever,” Jason interrupted. “Ricket, Robot, I really don’t give a shit what you’re called. Tell me, what is this place and who the hell are you people?”

  Ricket moved to one of the console chairs and sat down. “Please, sit anywhere you like. Up top, I was already on my way to bring you here when—”

  “When you shot and killed my daughter?”

  Ricket was quiet for a moment, then said, “Your father will explain everything.”

  “Really? That would be some trick, since he’s been missing more than fifteen years.”

  Ricket started typing something at the console before looking up toward the large virtual display that encircled the room.

  “Hello, Jason,” his father said, his smiling face filling the screen. “How are you son?”

  “What the hell is this? And who the hell are you?” Jason asked, looking first at Ricket and then at the man on the screen.

  “I can’t even imagine what a shock this must be for you. So before I say anything else, let me begin by saying I’m truly sorry.” The man on the screen looked weary. He had salt and pepper hair—more salt than pepper. Wearing a dark grey uniform and what appeared to be admiral’s insignias on his collar, he continued, “I have very little time to talk, Jason. I’m asking you to put everything aside—all your questions, even your anger, and just listen to what I have to say. Can you do that for me?”

  Jason was losing his patience. He turned to leave… he had a daughter to tend to.

  “Wait,” his father pleaded. “Please.”

  Jason hesitated and then turned back to face the screen. He nodded, almost imperceptibly, for his father to continue.

  “Sixteen years ago your Grandfather Gus discovered the ship you’re standing in now, The Lilly. A sinkhole had opened up at the back of his property after an extended rainstorm. Ol’ Gus spent weeks investigating. The sinkhole connected to an underground aquifer. Probably dried up for millennia. Gus eventually discovered The Lilly, the name I gave the ship you’re now standing in. Anyway, your grandfather never really trusted the government—so he called me. It took me several months before I could schedule leave. Truth is, I thought he’d lost his marbles and I’d be spending my time looking for a retirement home for him. Wrong! How that old codger managed to descend down hundreds of feet, and then dig a few hundred yards deeper into the aquifer—well, it’s pretty amazing. A spacecraft half buried and beat to hell. He showed me The Lilly, and that’s when everything, and I mean everything—changed!”

  “So you’re telling me Grandpa Gus knew you were alive for the past fifteen years?” Jason spat, exasperated. “It nearly destroyed our family; Brian took it the hardest. What was so damn important that you couldn’t let us know you were still alive?”

  “I couldn’t tell you, or anyone else, because I had discovered something that could literally alter the course of humanity.”

  “Oh for God’s sake, don’t you think that’s a little melodramatic? Come on, Dad… your own family? Who would we tell? And why…” His father cut him off.

  “Listen to me, Jason. Right now, I’m twenty thousand light-years from where you’re standing—on another planet—in another solar system. What I’m doing now, and what I’ve been doing for the past fifteen years, is protecting Earth. I learned after breaching the vessel and reviving Ricket, that Earth had been visited thousands of times by numerous alien species. For the most part, we were simply watched, investigated… but all that changed in 1947, with what’s known as the Roswell Area 51 incident. Some of those alien-life forms we found? They’re actually called the Craing, and they were not here for auspicious reasons. Thirty-two Craing scout ships stayed in higher Earth orbit for twenty eight days—all for the sole purpose of cataloguing, mapping and germinating our planet for future, large-scale human harvesting.”

  “Do you know how ridiculous that sounds? Why should I believe anything you say? How do I even know you’re really my father?”

  Admiral Reynolds hesitated, a sardonic smile levied on his worn face. “Can you really ask me that, Jason, as you stand there on a buried spaceship with a talking robot—two things that don’t exist in the 21st Century?”

  “Okay…” Jason paused, considering his father’s words. “You knew about this but didn’t involve the government or our military, for God’s sake. Why not?”

  “When I said germinate, I meant exactly that. Jason, thousands, no, multi-thousands of human-like beings have been introduced into Earth’s populous. Each one strategically placed in government, military, and large corporate positions… Jason, we’re the goose being fattened up for the proverbial Christmas feast. And by the way, that day… is today.”

  “Today, like we’re being attacked by aliens today—why today? That’s ridiculous.”

  “It doesn’t matter why it’s today, the Craing think in terms of hundreds, sometimes thousands of years. Their return date was probably established back in 1947. Our only hope was to stop them in route. That’s what I’ve been doing out here, along with a confederation of other, at-risk planets. We were hopeful, in fact, fairly sure our plan would work: Hundreds of warships converging for an interstellar ambush, to stop the Craing in their tracks. But Jason, it didn’t work. We didn’t win.” Admiral Perry stopped talking and took a long look at his son, trying to come to some kind of decision. Eventually he continued. “It’s taken me several days to configure this FTL connection. Weeks ago I sent The Lilly back, just in case things didn’t work out here—which obviously, they haven’t. Jason, there is no one I can trust on Earth with the information I have shared with you. The Craing and their human-like inhabitants are ruthless and will stop at nothing to ensure a smooth incursion. Now this is important. When they come, you will not, I repeat, will not stay and fight. I’m putting The Lilly in your charge, Jason. But there are other stellar allies still in this fight—their people’s existence, as well as our own, depends on us building new, stronger alliances and eventually beating back the Craing. But that time is not today. This is not the time to play hero; get your family on board, and do it now. It’s important they talk to no one. Listen. This is important. The Craing are looking for The Lilly. It has technology they are desperate to get ahold of. There’s a probable chance they tracked her entry back into Earth orbit…maybe even to your general location.”

  “Here? Are you serious?”

  His father held up his hand. “Shut up and listen,” the admiral barked. Ricket has been instructed to teach you what you need to know—what will be necessary over the coming months and years. If I could do this myself, be there like a real father should be, I would. I’m proud of you, Jason.” The camera shook; a blast thundered somewhere in the background twenty thousand light-years from Earth—the transmission obscured with blocky digital artifacts. “One more thing,” Admiral Perry said. “Come to the Altar system, we need your help—I need your help, Jason…” The feed went dead.

  “Hey, isn’t that Grandpa?”

  Jason spun around to see Mollie standing in the open hatch. A uniformed crewmember stood next to her. Looking as though she had just awoken from a nap and, with the exception of the small burn hole on her shirt, Mollie, inexplicably, looked alive and fine.

  “So Dad, where are we?” she inquired, wide-eyed, looking around the bridge.

  Jason jumped to his feet and swept her up in his arms until he heard her muffled cry, “Dad, I can’t breathe, let me down!”

  Jason put her down. Right then and there he decided not to mention anything to her about being shot, or God forbid, her dying. At only eight years of age, why complicate her life like that? Ricket moved forward and took her by the hand, leading her to a nearby chair.

  “Mollie, I would like to apologize for shooting you earlier today.”

  “Terrific,” Jason barked at Ricket. “I wasn’t going to mention that to her… at least not yet.” He glared at the robot, speechless. Studying Ricket up close, Jason noticed
the strange and complex intricacies of the small face—a true mixture of both biological and mechanical layers of transparent skin, covering organic tissue connected to whirling gears, moving pistons and actuators, all of which worked together, causing his jaw to open and close as he spoke. Mollie, too, with her brow furrowed, was closely inspecting Ricket’s face.

  “You can call me Ricket; that is the name the admiral, your grandfather, gave me. A good name, yes?”

  Ricket didn’t seem to be the least bit self-conscious about their combined close scrutiny. “Hi Ricket, it’s nice to meet you. So why did you shoot me? What was that thing you put me in? And what are you? Are you like a robot? Was I really dead?” Excited, the rapid-fire questions shot out of her, one after another, leaving Ricket no opportunity to respond.

  “Mollie,” Jason interrupted, putting a hand on her shoulder, “I need to go up top for a while. I want you to stay here with Ricket.”

  “I don’t want to stay here, I want to come with you.”

  “It may not be safe right now up top and I need to get your mom. Just stay here—I’ll be right back, OK?” Jason turned to Ricket. “You, robot, Ricket, nothing can happen to her—you will ensure she is safe and happy, you got that?”

  “There is still much to discuss, Jason, we should…”

  “No,” Jason interjected, “maybe later, but now I need to leave.”

  “We’ll walk you out,” said Ricket, gesturing for Mollie to follow.

  “So was that Grandpa?”

  * * *

  Leaving the ship and halfway down the ramp, Jason noticed there were other small robots and drones milling around, some even floating at workbenches, or attending to the various computer systems. Surprised, he heard a familiar voice.

  “JASON! OH MY GOD! Jason, it’s me… I’m at the gate. Are you there?” Frantic, Nan’s voice echoed and bounced off the rock walls.

  “What the hell?” Jason looked over to Ricket, “What is that?”

  Calmly, Ricket pointed to one of the hanging loudspeakers above them.

  “I suspect that is your ex-wife at the front gate. We’re tied into the gate’s intercom system.” Seeing the confused look on Jason’s face, Ricket went on: “We get many deliveries here, UPS, FedEx, DHL… they let us know when there‘s a package left at the gate.” Ricket pointed to a small rusted box affixed to the wall. “You can talk to her, just push the button.”

  Jason scrambled over to the intercom and pushed the button, “Nan, hi! Um…just hold tight, I’ll be right there.”

  “Jason! There’s been some sort of an attack—where are you? There are ships… They’re landing, Jason.” Her voice cut off —sounds of energy weapons echoed in the background. Jason looked up from the intercom. The cavern shook—he felt explosions above.

  “Ricket, now you’re with me. And you, what’s your name?” Jason asked a young crewmember.

  “McBride, sir.” Wide-eyed, he came to attention.

  “Anything happens to that little girl—” Jason barked, “…and you’re toast.”

  “Nothing will happen to her,” McBride replied, meeting Jason’s unwavering glare.

  The alarm and relentless vibration from Jason’s leg bracelet began as soon as they’d entered the cramped elevator. The navy, hell, all military services would be recalling and reactivating their personnel back to base.

  “Anyway to make this thing go faster?” Jason snapped. He forced himself to take a long, deep breath—thinking of Nan in trouble above, he swallowed back the lump in his throat.

  “No, just one speed,” Ricket replied, bending over and eyeing the device strapped to Jason’s leg. Lifting his pant leg, he tapped at it—once—twice—three times. The alarm stopped and the iron bracelet was released from his leg, falling to the floor. Jason studied this strange creature. He’d have to keep a close eye on Ricket.

  Chapter 3

  The sky was ablaze. Thick black contrails crisscrossed the sky. Mere yards from where they had emerged from the Cadillac, flames leapt from a charred and mangled F-22 fighter lying upside down—canopy and pilot crushed. Its two Pratt and Whitney turbofan engines continued to whirl while thick black smoke billowed. Above, like a swarm of bees, Craing fighters circled in unison. Whatever battle had ensued seemed to have ended as quickly as it had begun. The ground shook as the last F-22 crashed—this one closer to the house. Jason heard an ominous low-frequency sound, blaring shrilly in the distance. An alarm or a warning—its effect caused an almost overwhelming sense of impending dread and doom.

  “We need to get to the gate,” Jason yelled over the thunderous noise. Ricket followed him, with weapon held high—ready to fire. Debris covered much of the yard. Although hard to see through the heavy smoke-filled air, Jason spotted something in the near distance. Crossing over to an adjacent, more direct path, they could now clearly discern an alien ship. It had landed several hundred yards from where they stood. The pale green Craing ship appeared crouched and menacing and was the cause of the incessant blaring sound. Six long landing-gear supports, insect like, angled down from a bulky rectangular-shaped hull. It looked like what it was, a cargo vessel.

  Ricket nodded towards the ship. “That’s a Craing light cruiser—used for ground assaults but mostly for procuring indigenous species.”

  “Like hostages… they’re taking hostages?”

  “No, they have no need for hostages, more likely captives or slaves. They’ll be transported off-planet and brought to one of their many mining operations around the sector.”

  Jason and Ricket arrived at the gate. Fortunately, the house was still intact. Noticing the driveway, Jason sucked in a breath. Nan’s minivan, or what was left of it, was a smoldering, blackened metal frame.

  Jason stood there. His white-knuckled hands gripped the chain-link fence. “Nan… they’ve killed her. Those fuckers killed her.”

  “I’m not reading things that way,” Ricket said, looking up at Jason.

  “What the hell does that mean... reading things that way?”

  “My internal sensors would have detected if a biological mass was present,” Ricket replied. “Nan was not in that vehicle when it was destroyed.”

  Relieved, Jason searched for any sign of her. Visibility had started to clear. “There, off to the left—what is that?” Jason pointed, as he opened his backpack to retrieve his binoculars.

  Ricket looked off towards the nearby foothills where Jason had pointed. About a quarter-mile away a dozen people were walking single file toward the alien ship. Small, heavily armed aliens pointed weapons towards their head. Jason’s brow furrowed. “Those are my neighbors and they’re being herded like sheep.” Then he spotted her. Nan was helping an elderly man—his walker not suited for the rough desert terrain. A nearby alien jabbed a rifle muzzle into the elderly man’s back, bringing him to his knees—even at this distance, the old man’s pain evident.

  “We have to do something. There’s only eight aliens—”

  “Yes—eight armed aliens,” Ricket interjected, “and the captives are already being ushered on board. We can’t possibly get to them in time,” Ricket said.

  Ignoring him, Jason fumbled for his keys and unlocked the gate. Jason grabbed the rifle out of Ricket’s hands and sprinted toward the alien vessel. He felt his heart was going to beat right out of his chest. Nan was now at the vessel’s ramp. I need to get her attention. Jason stopped and began jumping up and down, waving the rifle over his head. He cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled, “Nan! Nan!” Half way up the ramp she stopped and turned in their direction. “I think she can hear me,” Jason said aloud. He yelled again at the top of his lungs. “I’ll come for you! I’ll find you, Nan…I’ll find you!” She disappeared into the strange, bug-like ship. Jason pointed the strange rifle towards the alien ship. “Where’s the fucking trigger on this thing?” he yelled; frantically inspecting the rifle, only to have it pulled from his own hands. Ricket brought the rifle up and fired continuously as bright bolts of energy impacted near
the back of the ship.

  Jason retrieved his binoculars—taking in every detail. “There are markings, like symbols, on the ship’s hull.”

  Ricket nodded. “That would be the ship’s unique fleet and sector designation.”

  Within moments, and seemingly unaffected by Rickets gunfire, the Craing ship lifted off—accelerating up through the atmosphere at tremendous speed. Jason continued to stare into the sky—long after it had disappeared.

  “Ricket, the Admiral will get my help just as soon as I track that ship and get my wife back. Understood?” Jason didn’t wait for an answer. He simply turned away and headed back towards the ship below. And you don’t mention any of this to Mollie.”

  * * *

  It was a quiet ride as they descended back down the elevator shaft. Jason stared straight ahead, his face stone-like, emotionless—although his clenched, white-knuckled fists conveyed his true inner turmoil. A uniformed officer was waiting for them when they walked out of the elevator. Jason noticed two brass bars on his collar. Nervously, the officer wiped his sandy blond hair off his forehead. Shorter than Jason by several inches, he came to attention and saluted.

  “Lieutenant,” Jason said, addressing the young officer. “Look, I’m an inactive navy officer. So, no need for…” The younger man interrupted Jason mid-sentence.

  “Sir, I’m Lieutenant Perkins—I apologize for any misunderstanding.”

  “What misunderstanding? And as you were… relax, Lieutenant.”