Rise of Aen (25 page)

Taylor tried his hardest to think, recalling the subtle voice in his head prodding him along for each step of the project. The idea of making a hybrid, the thoughts on how to extract and combine each species DNA, even the rare marker that led them to Subject 54—it was all from her! He closed his eyes with the dark realization that he had been the puppet from the get go and he was helpless against
it!

Aen reached out and grasped the bloodied metal rod protruding from Taylor’s chest and moved it upward slowly causing the man to groan loudly in pain. “But you were so focused on my race, the one that had been here for thousands of years! They weren’t here to conquer, but to observe and nurture our race! Did your hatred blind you to the fact that there was more than just the Lyarrans out there?” He spat at Taylor, leaning just inches from the older
man.

“This is our world, your people have no right to it!” Taylor sneered back. “Our race is resilient and we
will...”

“They will be culled like a herd of cattle in a slaughterhouse!” Aen interrupted. “The ones who survive will be sold as slaves and Earth will be strip-mined until it is barren and dead! The human race will be gone and forgotten, just like
you!”

“So what now?” the General looked defeated and
lost.

“Now you will die from your own stupidity and I will join the resistance—may whatever god you believe in have mercy on your soul!” Aen leaned in and pulled the soldier’s pistol from its holster, turning it over in his
hand.

“After all I’ve done, you will still help
us?”

Aen chambered around and leveled the barrel to rest against the general’s forehead. “I will help them. You, however, I’m finishing what I started here
tonight.”

Without even blinking, Aen pulled the trigger. His revenge was complete; his promise to Sara was fulfilled. His legs wobbled under the overwhelming emotions rushing him and he staggered back to sit down on a chunk of the catwalk. The gun fell from his hand, clattering on the concrete floor, and he rested his head in his palms as tears flowed from his eyes; a wash of pent up emotion was released. Finally, this chapter of his life was
over!

The sound of engines racing in the distance brought him back as for the first time, Aen was aware that the storm had passed and the base had woke up to the carnage within. Mobile artillery and soldiers rushed across the tarmac to the tattered hangar, hoping to render aide to their fallen comrades. But there would be utter devastation for them to find; only bodies for them to
bury.

Slowly rising to his feet, Aen looked up at the sky. So very little time left; in his current condition he would really drive home the point at the U.N. meetings. Stepping back into the shadows he was shocked at how tired all this had made him and he began to wonder if he would have enough to be the saviour his mother had heralded him to be. He shrank back into the darkness and disappeared, leaving the arriving troops to find nothing but death and
destruction.

TWELVE

United Nations Headquarters, New York City -
Five Months and One Day from Arrival

General Patterson took a deep breath and sighed as he sat in the lobby of the United Nations Assembly hall in New York; a report on this morning’s “incident” at Groom Lake dangling from his right hand. The hangar and its contents were lost completely, and all personnel assigned to guard it were found dead in the rubble. In such a short space of time, both projects stemming from the crash were wiped out completely and they were left with no better understanding of what was out
there.

“At least he didn’t level the whole fucking facility,” Patterson mumbled in frustration. In his mind he calculated the days remaining; five and a half months left until the end of the world. He had done everything he could up to now; everything there was to do. He had brought his findings to his superiors, who directed him to the president—the president who was addressing the other heads of state who in turn notified each country’s representative in the U.N. Such a great secret passed around to so many, it was only a matter of time before it became public knowledge. Now it was incumbent on him to bring light to the mess of confusion, the only world-wide expert in alien life and technology. Patterson shivered—soon he would be brought before the world leaders to tell them the world was about to end and there was very little they could do to stop
it.

In his briefcase were the electronic files accumulated in the years of both projects and the detailed analysis of the incoming ship from the man who had appeared in his office. Patterson had read these files over and over on the flight to New York and was shocked at the level of detail that was being provided to
him.

The race was called the Husk, and they were a nomadic species spread amongst the stars to enslave, conquer and strip worlds of their resources. The creatures themselves were something between machine and biological; a step taken in their evolution a long time ago. Like alien Vikings, they would plunder and pillage any world they came across—and Earth was next. Even more troubling to Patterson was the realization that it was humanity’s own arrogance that had led these locusts
here.

“They will be calling on you in a few minutes, General.” An usher peeked through the hall doors to tell him to which he just nodded. Time was running out and he wasn’t sure he had enough to show the desperate urgency needed for the coming days. In his mind, Patterson hoped that Taylor’s creature would show up to help the case as he said he might. But the wreckage at the base told another picture, and the old General knew that if this thing had survived that it would be hurt beyond
belief.

He looked out the hall window to the blue morning sky. “For all our follies, all our mistakes, we deserve to survive this catastrophe.” He whispered to himself. “And if we do, what will be left of
us?”

—

The assemblage grew deathly quiet as Patterson stepped up to the podium; they nervously waited for what he had to add to the dreadful news just dropped on them. He noted the uneasy anxiety in the room and he was sure his presentation would break the silence in no time. He drew his breath, ignored the butterflies in his stomach, and
began.

“I will dispense with any pleasantries at this time,” he started, “As I believe enough time has been wasted thus far. You all have seen the images, but I am positive none of you know the full scale of what approaches. I think our darkest fears are coming true, and each of us should hold the utmost urgency with any actions decided upon
today.”

He looked up from his notes and saw hundreds of eyes staring back, all hanging intently on his words. He began at the beginning; starting with the early morning phone call from Taylor in the badlands of South Dakota and leading up to the meeting with the monster in his makeshift office. The room stayed silent—aside from the odd gasp of shock—and no one dared to interrupt his recap. As his eyes probed around the room, they met each and every set of eyes. Some were angry, some were in terror, but one man’s eyes showed calm and understanding, a look that Patterson kept returning his attentions to. The calm demeanor was that of the representative from the Chinese
council.

Pausing to catch his breath, the general led into updated images of the alien craft in the Oort Cloud. This was the breaking point of the silence and shouts and panic filled the room. After a long outburst of noise, the room once again quietened, and the Speaker of the House began to question
Patterson.

“General, before you entered it was the conclusion of the Council to try to negotiate a peace with these creatures, but you stand before us and say we should strike before they expect
it?”

“Yes, it may be the best opportunity we have to strike.” He answered quickly and gruffly. This was the part he disliked the most—he hated
politicians!

“Yet you expect us to believe you as the sole expert on this subject; take your word as the gospel on this? This is where the Council is stuck. We see a chance to engage in a conversation, create a peace with these aliens in a chance to learn and grow the human race to new
heights.”

“So what you mean is everyone here will hide in safety as you order innocents to be slaughtered in vain for your stupidity! This I find unacceptable!” the general barked back to the snide
remarks.

His words were met with aggressive retorts, threats, and even laughter, but as he stood his ground he noticed the Chinese man in a plain suit standing with his desk light on in the proper way to ask permission to speak. Patterson knew the mob wouldn’t let up so he met the accusatory gaze of the Speaker then pointed the representative out. Realizing that procedure must be followed, the Speaker smashed his gavel to regain control the
room.

“The house recognizes the representative from China.” The Speaker said as quiet began to be
restored.

The small man, modestly dressed, bowed graciously and walked slowly down to the podium in an odd change in protocol. In his hands was a small metallic disc, about an inch and a half thick. He approached the general, who had remained in place, and bowed again—as if to ask permission to take his place. Patterson nodded slightly and stepped back to allow the man to stand
forward.

“I graciously disagree with the speculation that the General is the only voice in this matter.” The older man spoke
calmly.

“What the hell are you talking about?” came a cry from above with others asking similar questions. The small man held his hand up to silence the masses and waited for them to respond. Once quiet, he
resumed.

“In our country, many of our people have known of this day for years. Long ago, a monastery was built around a crater in the heart of the mountains. But unknown to the monks, this crater was home to visitors from afar, and it didn’t take long for the beings to make themselves known. They didn’t pass themselves off as gods, and didn’t make the monks submit to their will, they just learned from each other and shared
wisdom.”

He paused, not to catch his breath, but to let his words sink in. “The Lyarrans, as they were called, showed these simple monks the secrets of the stars and also the horrors that awaited mankind. They were a part of a research team that had been here during the Dark Ages to watch over us and guide us as we grew. Long life they were blessed with, but dwindled were their numbers at this point. Unable to return back to the Empire whence they came, they long ago made Earth their home as well, so the monks saw a new path of enlightenment, and together with these benevolent beings they studied and waited—waited for
today.”

“These are just ramblings of an old, crazy man!” shouted
someone.

“Ah,” the man replied, “Do not take my word for it. I have a message to deliver.” He said as he placed the disc at the center of the room and tapped the center. It glowed brilliantly in a blue light before revealing the image of a lone creature; a woman of alien origin stood and looked about the room. The assemblage gasped and stood in
surprise!

“I stand before you, the leaders of the planet Terra Sol, in a time of crisis. I only wish I was able to do so in person, but with my last breaths I record this message for you.”
The hologram said in a ghostly, yet beautiful tone.
“I am Ameia—Council of the Lyarran Empire and Commander of the expedition fleet to Terra Sol and I hope to enlighten you before the skies
darken.”

—

In the back upper corner of the assemblage hall of the U.N, a dark figure hung close to the shadows and took in the goings on with keen interest. Aen had enough time to retreat back to the Amarra and clean up and change so he didn’t smell of ash and blood or draw any unwanted attention. Dressed now in a plain grey suit with his hair tied back neatly, he had arrived just as the argument with the General had reached its peak. Now, he stood transfixed as all others in the hall did as well at the majesty of his mother’s ghostly projection as it began to address the
court.

He had been left with only vague recollections of her and they were scattered in his fractured mind, but seeing her living before him was nearly overwhelming. It was obviously recorded after she had assisted him in escaping the hellish prison which spawned him as she was bruised and frail from her extended coma. Even in this state, Ameia was strikingly beautiful and strong, all of which was the perfect combination to capture the attention of this particular
audience.

Aen watched curiously as she continued, and hung on her every word. He was sure that after this moment he would never hear the sound of her voice
again.

—

“For eons the Empire has existed, and in that time we have seen the Husk rape and pillage worlds such as yours. And after spending so much time amongst you, watching you grow and learn, I cannot bear to let it happen to you.”
The recording of Ameia spoke as the U.N. Council listened
silently.

“
Ours is an ancient civilization; from what our scholars are able to determine, we are one of the first to climb out of the primordial ooze. Long gone is our time of reaping war on the cosmos, now replaced by the wanton yearning for knowledge and exploration. Over a thousand different worlds are a part of our Empire, and it was our hope that someday Terra Sol would be amongst those worlds; not to be ruled, but to be an equal part of a truly galactic
civilization.”

“I could no longer stand by and wait for the reason we were sent here, so I rushed forth to make it happen! From the beginning, our prophets have told of a great being to be born out on the rim of the galaxy. The descriptions of that rim world match Terra Sol, so our research team was dispatched to watch and wait for him. When we realized that the Husk had learned of your planet, I knew he wouldn’t come in
time.”

The woman stopped, looked around the room; seemingly at each person within; and continued with a tear in her eye.
“I staged a crash landing, knowing that I would be captured and used as a laboratory experiment. I planted the idea in the scientist’s head of a cross-species hybrid to rush the creation of this Harbinger, and they did just that. After long years of pain and torture, my child was born in an epic birth cry that would echo across the
cosmos.”

“Now with him safely hidden away to grow and learn, I find myself slipping away into the long night; my life energies drifting away. And here is where my plan has gone awry—he is all alone now, as I am the last Lyarran here. He is left in the hands of the wise monks upon mountain high, and along with a virtual intelligence to guide him they will shape him into the hero you so desperately need right
now.”

Ameia slumped slightly, her face showing the strain to keep her stately pose. It was clear to all that she was dying in front of them; they were witnessing the end of her
life.

“What is left for you is to find a way to become one; for you to live and fight as a race, not as independent countries. Every one of the worlds in the Empire has faced an extinction level event that when they survived changed them for the better. My fear is that this one comes at a point to soon for you to overcome your
differences.”

Her body spasmed and her legs gave, Ameia crumpling to the floor. The council as a whole stood in reaction, all wanting to render aid for a woman who was already dead. Patterson’s cheeks were stained from tears. Long had he watched and been a part of her torture; it was his doing that this beautiful creature before them had
died.

“There is no peace with the Husk,”
she continued with a noticeable strain on her face.
“Do not be fools and throw away innocent lives in thinking you can. Best is a strategy you call guerilla warfare. Meet them with resistance as they arrive, but do not throw away all you resources as you do. Help will come from the Empire, and the Harbinger will fight heroically for you. Terra Sol cannot fall; there is too much greatness in humanity to end as mere slaves without a home.”
Her eyes began to close and her voice faded away.
“He will fight for you, and he will keep them at bay long enough for help to arrive. There is greatness in you, please do not waste
it.”

Then she was silent; the rise and fall of her chest stopped, and soon after so did the recording. The entire room was eerily silent before the older man spoke once
more.

“I was there as this was recorded; I watched this regal creature spend her last breath to warn us! I cried, as you do now. The Harbinger is out there somewhere, trying to contact her people to send help. Let’s do our part and try to save as many innocents as possible; let’s preserve our history and ready ourselves for the fight of our
lives.”