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Authors: Linell Jeppsen

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BOOK: Onio
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“Their
planet, which was called Marinell, exploded like a dying sun and a million,
billion pieces flew through space. Many of those pieces were shattered into
dust, other pieces burned like dead leaves when they flew too close to a sun or
crashed against a planet. One piece survived though, and that piece of rock was
teeming with life. It was the only remaining remnant of a dying race. After
much debate, it was decided that the new seed would be allowed to survive,
despite the fact that it was proven a violent and war-like species. The
inhabitants of Marinell were called human beings.”

Mel
gasped with shock, while the sasquatches shook their heads in sorrow. Triku
stared at Mel and said, “We have spent several lifetimes trying to guide, warn
and instruct the new human beings here on this planet, who grew from the seeds
of the old, but it seems we have failed and are being called home. I, for one,
am glad to go home…to see my world before my eyes grow dim, but I am also angry
and frustrated.” The bug shook its scaly head.

“Human
beings have so much potential. They never cease to astonish me with their
ingenuity, tenacity and strength. They also break my heart, repeatedly, with
their cruelty, anger and propensity for violence. At any rate….” The bug hopped
off the rock and hobbled to where Onio stood. “I will be leaving soon. I have
taken the liberty of drilling a new tunnel so you can make your way to your
king’s chambers unimpeded. I also have a trinket for you.” It grinned up at
Onio and held a pebble up in the air.

Its
claws scrabbled at the rocks surface and for a moment, a brilliant rainbow
gleam filled their sight. Mel felt the tiny hairs on her forearms stir with
static electricity and the sasq warriors gasped. Then the light was gone and it
was only a pebble again, dull and partially encrusted with dirt.

Grinning,
the bug shrugged its wings and said, “This is called a Herculean stone. It is something
that belonged to your ancient ancestors a very long time ago.” The bug started
walking back toward the stone monolith. It held some sort of pointer in its
claw and pointed it at the boat. The green glow flickered to life and Mel could
hear its mechanisms whine to life.

Stopping,
it turned around and said, “Farewell, Star Brothers. Perhaps we will meet again
someday.” With those words, the bug stepped into the doorway and the stone door
closed behind it.

Mel,
Tanah and the sasq stared at one another and at the boat that glowed green and seemed
to be hovering a few inches off the ground, anxious to get underway. Not
knowing what else to do, they walked to the boat, boarded and hoped that it, at
least, knew where they were going next.

***

The
alien custodian of one of Earth’s inner portals smiled with enigmatic pleasure
as it watched the hovercraft sail up and away to the new drilled tunnel through
its view screen. He had fulfilled his duty and could go home now. Triku did not
know if the Herculean stone would be able to save the guardians, but he had
accomplished his mission and could rest now.

Furling
its wings, the bug allowed its protective outer shell to encompass its fragile
body. Then, Triku rolled into his cocoon and slept.

Chapter 21

 

Approximately
1525 miles away from where Onio and his companions were air lifted by
hovercraft from the gigantic spaceship concealed deep beneath Flathead Lake and
the foothills of the Rocky Mountains, Lieutenant Colonel Terrence O’Dell stared
at the latest experiment in Major Abernathy’s medical lab.

Four
gigantic medical spotlights illuminated the female sasquatch’s naked body, and
her brown eyes rolled in sunken sockets as her brain was removed from the
cranial cavity and lifted up into the light for closer inspection. One tender
jab of a surgical probe caused the females right leg and arm to jerk
spasmodically, and a tall, wheeled tray that housed the surgical saw and a tray
of instruments flew across the room and fell over with a clatter. O’Dell heard
the metallic clank from where he stood a level above the surgical theatre in an
observation booth.

O’Dell’s
assistant, Lieutenant Andrew Spiles, shuddered at the almost sensual smile that
crossed his commander’s face. He had learned two years ago, when he was first
assigned to the special ops division in Fort Bliss, that the lieutenant colonel’s
hatred for the sasquatches bordered on the psychotic.

Spiles
was both dumbfounded and awestruck by the sasq people, who had only lived in
fairy tales and his own imagination before he was assigned to O’Dell’s team.
Now, he dreaded every day of his life as the lieutenant colonel’s assistant. He
held a degree in psychology and knew a lunatic when he saw one, but the
commander was a highly functioning psychotic who knew how to cater to the
powers-that-be.

 Only
Spiles and the medical team assigned to the sasquatch research study knew how
much the commander enjoyed hurting the sasq they caught, and the bleeding never
stopped…not for the sasq test subjects or the lieutenant, who had to watch the
torture day after day.

Spiles
looked at his notes and noted the time and date. Actually, the page was already
dated and time-stamped, but he needed to look away from the dying female’s gaze
as the doctor plunged her still living brain into a vat of sterilized jelly for
further dissection. The bulletproofed glass that separated the operating room
from the observation deck rattled inquisitively when the female died, as if the
sasq desperately tried one last time to plea for help.

“Goddammit,
that was close,” O’Dell muttered, as Stiles blinked tears of shame from his
eyes and fumbled blindly for another Tums.

O’Dell
keyed the mike and barked, “You fucked around too long, Major. Now we lost
another one. Take it away and bring in that male we found last week.”

Turning
to his subordinate, O’Dell said, “What’s the matter with you lately, Spiles? I’ve
got no time for illness or the faint of heart amongst my staff members. Take
fifteen and go get yourself in order, or I’ll find someone better suited to
this assignment.”

“Yes
sir!” Spiles responded briskly and strode from the room. He walked into the men’s
restroom and, checking quickly to make sure he was alone, walked into a cubicle
and closed the door. Last night’s dinner and this morning’s coffee and muffin
spewed out of his mouth into the gleaming porcelain fixture. The dying eyes of
the latest sasquatch casualty bored into his brain, and tears of grief and
remorse ran down his cheeks.

He
remembered the frantic knocking on the Plexiglas windows of the observation
platform and closed his eyes in horror. Didn’t the colonel know that what he
was doing was a sin? These weren’t animals…they were more…much, much more, and
the lieutenant’s blood ran cold. The sasquatches were telepathic, and although
they didn’t use words to speak, Spiles would be willing to swear they spoke,
and pleaded with him.

He
opened the stall door and stood above the long line of sinks to splash cold
water on his face and arms. Rinsing the taste of vomit out of his mouth, Spiles
popped a breath mint, chewing furiously. He had requested a transfer out of
this hellhole and should know the answer later today. Andrew would take a hard
fall, and would probably never be allowed to ride the fast track again in this
man’s Army, but he no longer cared.

For
some reason, O’Dell was convinced the sasquatch’s were a threat to national
security and seemed determined to eradicate them altogether, despite the fact
that the test subjects were supposed to be well treated and, above all, kept
alive for further research. If the Geneva Convention models were observed, the facility
would have been shut down years ago and everyone who participated in the trials
imprisoned for life.

But
that will never happen
, he thought as he pushed the button for a Sprite on
the pop machine in the white-tiled hallway outside the medical lab. The installation
was as secret as it could possibly be considering the fact it resided within
the boundaries of the Fort Bliss Army reservation.

The
medical facility itself was deep underground, the only evidence of its existence
a large garage that housed the base’s ambulances, coroner’s vans, and medical
evacuation Humvee’s. Only high security personnel were allowed past a
non-descript doorway into the inner-sanctum, or to what Spiles considered the
secret hallways of hell.

He
straightened his shoulders and smiled. He was a soldier in good standing, with
numerous medals. He was an officer, a gentleman, and had the right to transfer
if he so desired. Maybe he could take a demotion and start out fresh in weapons
training, or even sniper school. He was once a pretty good shot, and had a
knack for teaching others how to put themselves in that special state of
suspended animation needed to hit a target at eight hundred to a thousand
yards. Anything would be better than watching another innocent sasquatch die at
the hands of a maniac.

Taking
a deep breath, Spiles pushed the swinging door open and entered the observation
room. Another doped up sasquatch was bound to a reclining gurney. Heavy steel
endorsed leather straps circled the male’s wrists, chest, thighs and neck.
Electrodes dangled from the sasq’s shaved head and pulse points. The sasquatch’s
head came up slowly when Spiles took his place at the console. Although he knew
the test subject was administered a freakishly high-dose cocktail of
psychotropic drugs, the sasq’s eyes were calm and clear as he gazed at the lieutenant.

Spiles
studied this new specimen carefully. This one was smaller than the others and,
strangely enough, its irises were blue. The sad intelligence in those cornflower
eyes chilled Spiles to the bone.

The
sasq nodded and said, “You should stop this.”

The
two nursing assistants in the room with the sasquatch started violently, and
one let out a little yelp of fear. Spiles stared at the male with wonder. The lieutenant
colonel, thankfully, had stepped out for a break. Looking over his shoulder at
the metal door, Spiles made a snap decision.

Springing
out of his chair, Spiles ran to the door and locked it. Going back to the
console, he keyed the mike and said, “Jonesey, Trish…that will be all for now.
Please go to your quarters and stay there until I call for you. This is a
security issue now, and you will need to be de-briefed. Answer to me and to me,
only. Are we clear?”

“Clear,
sir!” the soldiers exclaimed and ran out of the room, locking the door behind
them as they left.

Spiles
knew he only had a few moments of privacy with this magnificent creature before
the commander or the doctor returned. He also knew, without any doubt, that
what he was doing now would be considered insubordination, punishable by time
in the brig and possibly even death by firing squad. He had reached his limit
though. Although his palms were slick with sweat and his heart thundered in his
chest, he keyed the mike and said, “Can you understand me?”

The
sasquatch nodded his head but his eyelids drooped. “Hey!” Spiles barked. “Don’t
fall asleep!”

The
male’s head jerked and he sat up with an effort, staring through the glass at
the small human behind the safety glass. “I am awake,” he murmured. “Can you
stop this madness?”

The
fear and sorrow in the creature’s deep voice pinged sharply against the lieutenant’s
consciousness. He hung his head and said, “I’m going to try, but I don’t have a
lot of power around here…can I come in there?”

The
sasquatch frowned and said, “Why? Will you kill me, like you did the others?”

Spiles
shook his head. “No! But I need to make it look like I did. Can you trust me to
do that?”

The
sasq nodded and seemed to fall asleep. Moving quickly, Spiles opened the air-hatch,
descended the metal catwalk and entered the laboratory. He heard voices in the
distance and prayed that his hare-brained plan would work. He moved to the
small refrigerator unit in the corner and pulled a bag of plasma out. Grabbing
a scalpel, he opened a cut in the plastic and tossed the blood over the sasquatches
face and chest. The male sat up, startled, but fell back again when he saw the
young lieutenant gesture for silence.

Spiles
knew that although the sasquatch was fighting the drug’s influence with all his
might, the chemical cocktail had taken affect. Bending down, Spiles unlocked
the wheel brakes and pulled the diodes off the sasq’s body. The voices in the
hallway were growing louder and Spiles knew that his time was almost up. It was
do or die, right here and right now.

Biting
his lower lip, the lieutenant grabbed the foot-rail of the hospital bed and
pushed it through the swinging doors to the installation’s secret hospital
ward. Two nurses looked up from their monitors and the lead nurse started to
rise to her feet.

“That’s
all right, Molly,” Spiles called out. “This one got a little too frisky and had
to be put down. I’m just going to take it to the morgue.” The nurse stopped,
gave a shrug and sat back down at her desk.

Spiles
licked the sweat off his upper lip and continued to wheel the bed down the
hallway. The closest service elevator was only about fifty feet away. If he
could just get the sasq down to the morgue, maybe he could hide the body until
later, when he was off shift. His thoughts raced through his mind and he could
feel the small hairs on the back of his neck crawling with fear.

BOOK: Onio
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