U-10

A beeping from her comm drew Thann’s attention.

Glancing at the unit, she recognized the indicator. The homing beacon in Lincoln Frost’s watch was active. When the display showed the location of the signal, Thann’s eyes widened. According to the readout, Frost was less than one hundred meters away.

Twisting her neck in the direction indicated, she saw two people walking toward her. The one in dirty clothes had his wrists bound. The other had arms raised. She heard a shout from somewhere behind her.

“Enemy personnel at four o’clock. Coming from the middle of the canyon. Orders?”

“Stand down!” Thann shouted. “I think one of them is a friendly.”

Thann felt a body drop to the sand next to her and glanced sideways. Turner sprawled beside her, eyes glued to binoculars.

“It’s Lincoln Frost. She’s with a man dressed like an Insurgent. Both appear unarmed. Where did they come from?” he asked.

“Hold your fire,” Thann ordered, making sure she made eye contact with Sarge. “It’s one of our people.”

When Frost and Akhund were about ten meters away, Turner said, “Lincoln Frost, stay where you are. There are enough weapons targeting you to turn you to jelly. Don’t move.”

Stopping as instructed with an arm against Akhund’s chest, Frost said, “Miles, put on your big boy pants. We’re unarmed, and the Insurgent is restrained.”

“Just don’t move,” Turner responded. “You have some explaining to do and for all I know, your friend could be a walking bomb.”

“Look, Miles,” Frost said. “I’ve had a long three days. I’m tired, dirty and not in the mood for your paranoia.”

Thann chuckled, and Turner shot her an angry look.

“You want to salvage some of our dignity or not? A gift horse just landed in our laps, and I for one want something positive to report to Cruneval. Don’t you?” Thann asked.

Turner’s eyes wavered, and he relented even though his anger smoldered. He had convinced himself Frost had been killed. One less obstacle between him and a top leadership position in SEED. Now he felt his opportunities were limited once again by her unexpected return.

Frost and her Insurgent companion were searched for weapons and explosives. Stiles got too aggressive with his pat-down of Frost and received a knee in the groin that buckled him into a fetal position.

“Still ham-handed. Huh, Stiles?” Frost grinned as the man writhed.

Akhund couldn’t believe his eyes. No woman would dare do such a thing in his house. Involuntarily, he inched closer to her.

“Where have you been?” Thann asked. Her tone was at the same time curious, accusing and suspicious.

“A squad of dog-faces found the alien craft before I arrived on scene. The damn bullet-sponges discovered an alien gizmo that creates weapons and weird tech. They captured me and commandeered the craft. Their pea-brains have decided to turn it over to the military,” Frost replied.

“What about this guy?” Turner asked.

“This jihadist and his friends were peppering you with mortar fire, and Lavender decided he couldn’t stomach seeing you killed. This guy looked familiar, and they decided to take him captive.”

“Who’s Lavender?” Thann asked.

“He’s the leader of the dog-faces. A real brain-trust.”

Thann heard the words, but noted the look in Frost’s eyes and her tone didn’t seem to match her words.

“So he just let you go,” Turner sneered.

Frost’s eyes narrowed. “They decided I was excess baggage and dropped me and Mr. Insurgent off. We need to stop wasting time. The armament on that craft can’t be allowed to fall into military hands.”

Turner was about to respond when Thann cut him off. “She’s right. We can sort this out later. Right now, we need to leave.”

***

Only two people occupied the Communications Hub in SEED Headquarters at the same time. Policy prohibited any additional personnel unless there was an active interception of alien technology.

Secrecy of SEED operations was essential to National Security. The theory behind the limitation of personnel was the brainchild of Richard Cruneval. Control of information was the key to secrecy, and Cruneval thrived on control. If there was any intelligence leak, the culprit could be narrowed down with ease based on the timing and nature of the data disclosed. The penalty for disclosure was death.

“Any word from Thann or Turner?” Cruneval asked.

“Nothing, Sir. They’ve been silent for 30 hours and counting.”

“Has Agent Frost’s position updated?”

“Her locator beacon has resumed operation, and telemetry indicates she has joined Agents Thann and Turner.”

“Give me a satellite image of their present location,” Cruneval ordered.

The Aide swiveled a dial to select the appropriate satellite feed and flipped a switch. The image on the monitor blinked and cleared. Despite the cloud of smoke obscuring the scene, three locator icons were shown in the western end of a desert canyon. As they watched, a single truck drove away. The locator icons moved with it.”

“What’s the source of the smoke?” Cruneval asked.

The Aide grabbed a joystick, and the screen image moved toward the thickest area of smoke. Reaching the desired position, the Aide thumbed a button on the joystick. Various electronic filters activated and the smoky haze pixelated. Using the joystick as a guide, the Aide zoomed closer to the structure hidden under the billowing cloud. As he did so, a hazy image began to form.

“It’s the C-17 retrieval craft, Sir. Looks like it crashed.”

Various emotions played across Cruneval’s face. Surprise. Disbelief. Anger.

“Scans reveal some sort of projectile damage but nothing that would result in a crash. I don’t understand. It appears the VTOL came down without its landing gear extended. I couldn’t say more without a physical examination of the wreck.”

“The operative word is wreck. It appears we are getting more than the expected level of resistance to this operation,” Cruneval said with unconcealed anger.

With a look of exasperation mixed with rage, Cruneval marched from the room to the profound relief of the Aide.

Cruneval’s thoughts swirled as he marched toward his office. He had dispatched his three top lieutenants on a simple retrieval mission. Frost had disappeared for days and just resurfaced. Very unsettling. Thann and Turner had so far failed their backup mission and destroyed his C-17 in the process. None of them had reported back to SEED even though they were reunited. Things were out of hand.

Cruneval had ascended to the leadership position at SEED by way of a growing list of sins. Coming from a well-to-do family and never denied anything money could buy, his pre-disposition to avoid displeasure sharpened. Learning at a young age that leaders received the best treatment and experienced the most pleasure, he decided he had to be the master of his environment. Greed, envy, and wrath blossomed in his teens, feeding off his height and body weight. Bullying was easy when you’re a head taller and ten kilograms heavier than most other boys.

As his education progressed and he learned that other people grew bigger and stronger than him, he discovered the most important power was concentrated in government. Government could tell people what to do and if they didn’t do as they were told, the consequence was imprisonment.

Further study guided him to the conclusion that the most powerful government position was delineated by the control of technology. SEED fulfilled all his desires. Power and control of power through technology were at his command. In the beginning, his desires weren’t for such mundane things as food or companionship. They were for power on top of power. Once his feeling of pleasure from control of people and things didn’t provide the level of satisfaction he needed, his urges changed. Of the seven deadly sins, only sloth hadn’t found its way into his life. Not yet anyway.

Without a word, Cruneval entered his office reception area, strode across the room, entered his office and closed the door.

“Uh oh,” his receptionist thought. “He’s too quite even for him. Something is about to happen, and it won’t be pretty.”

Sure enough, her musing was interrupted by the click of her intercom.

“Prepare the Seeker for takeoff. Have Muriak assemble thirty combat specialists with full gear. I’m going hunting.”

***

Worry bit into Koritt’s mind as Elvis shot the transport one hundred kilometers above the planet’s surface. He was both relieved and puzzled at the same time.

He had been under the impression Lavender was going to fly to the nearest Human military base. The consequences would have been catastrophic. The transport’s computer was programmed to take whatever action was necessary to prevent itself from being captured. Lavender and his group had avoided the programming by donning the crew survival gear.

The special suits identified the aliens as trusted crew members. The status had permitted them to rename the Computer and change its fundamental programming. The possibility that aliens could capture a transport was inconceivable, much less become counterfeit crew members. The illegal experiment enhancing the intelligence of the Humans had succeeded far beyond the expectations of the Corporation.

Koritt felt helpless, and he didn’t like it. The Corporation had sent mercenaries to kill him. Although he hated to admit it, the Humans had saved him by using the Corporation’s own weapons to neutralize the assassins. Not only did the Humans wipe out the death squad, they kept him alive and well. Contrary to his education, training and experience, Koritt realized he didn’t feel threatened by the aliens. In fact, he was beginning to like them. Shaking his head at the thought, Koritt re-focused on the here-and-now.

“What are you doing, Lavender?” he asked.

Ty was looking over the shoulder of the Human named Hashtag watching a screen shot of the planet’s surface.

Glancing at the cricket, he replied, “I understand the necessity of protecting Earth from alien threats. SEED has or had a purpose. That being said, I don’t like being hunted. SEED has sent two teams to capture this ship. Frost was tolerable because she didn’t try to kill my squad, but the second team did its best to wipe us out. As I see it, the only way to put a stop to SEED is to attack it at its roots. I can’t do that if I turn Elvis over to DARPA.”

“Playing with forces beyond your comprehension is not the wisest idea. It is possible you will do our work for us by destroying your own planet. Give me back the transport, and I give you my pledge I will leave. My report will state your species is a failed experiment that poses no danger to the Corporation. You will be forgotten.”

“Too late, Koritt. While I might consider trusting you, your Corporation sent this transport to kill us and destroy our planet. You were on the list of expendables as well. Your bosses won’t let you live for fear your story will leak out and destroy them.”

“What are you going to do?” Koritt asked.

“Introduce Elvis to SEED,” Lavender smiled.

***

Zakhar Muriak had waited with the patience of an undertaker for an opportunity to show his true value to SEED, and at last his moment had arrived.

Muriak smiled as he trotted down the hallway leading to the tarmac. He looked taller than his two meter frame because the long, black hair on top of his head was combed high and back-swept. His dark-brown eyes glinted every time he ran under an overhead fluorescent light. He was an expert in hand-to-hand combat and his knife handling skills had earned him the nickname, Surgeon. His body-type, need to excel and combat acumen had fueled an over-sized ego craving advancement. Thinking about his new assignment made it difficult to contain his glee.

Cruneval’s top operative, Lincoln Frost, had somehow failed to perform a routine bag-and-tag mission. The limits of her skill set were at last exposed. Kristan Thann and Miles Turner, the last of the triumvirate Cruneval relied on for field operations, had been dispatched to rectify her failure and demonstrated their own incompetence. Their negligence had been accentuated by the loss of the VTOL C-17.

Zakhar had been tasked to take any and all measures necessary to succeed where their missions failed. Cruneval had ordered the use of his updated weapons platform which meant he wanted a win at all costs. The Seeker was the upgraded version of the VTOL C-17 destroyed by Thann and Turner. Filled with every offensive and defensive armament and countermeasure SEED’s past experiences with UFO’s had inspired, the Seeker embodied a formidable array of weaponry. It was a flying fortress shielded against all known forms of electronic, subatomic and biological attack. Covered with a reflective coating, reverse engineered off a 1950′s UFO that crashed in West Virginia, all known forms of visible and invisible radiation reflected off its surface. When its stealth mode was deactivated, it looked like its entire outer structure was covered in mirrors.

Muriak’s pace slowed as he neared the Seeker entry hatch. His brain knew a full-sized C-17 sat on the asphalt, but all he saw was an open hatch and part of a lighted interior space. The rest of the craft was just a reflection of the surrounding buildings, sky and tarmac. A moment of doubt ghosted across his eyes as he walked up the ramp. Despite what he thought about the abilities of Frost, Thann and Turner, something had thwarted them. Something unforeseen. Something beyond the brain power and anticipation of the Einsteins working for SEED. A shout broke his concentration, and the look disappeared.

“Commander on deck!”

Thirty combat-honed veterans stood in the cargo hold of the Seeker. Their equipment duffels lay about in various stages of inspection. None of the men saluted, and only a few acknowledged him. Muriak was used to the relaxed attitude and nodded. He knew they regarded him as their superior officer.

“I expect the leader of my troops to be a disciplinarian, not a friend or father figure,” a familiar voice said from somewhere to his left.

Glancing toward a pallet of machinery half-covered by a tarp, Muriak saw a figure hidden in the shadows. The strong odor of lilacs told him who it was.

“They know who’s boss,” Muriak said with some irritation.

“Who is boss?” Cruneval asked with raised eyebrows.

With a smile bordering on a leer, Muriak said, “You’re in charge. Everyone knows you are.”

“They better,” Cruneval replied. “Do they know the importance of this mission?”

“They know what I tell them,” Muriak said. “They are the bullet, and I am the trigger.”

Leaning toward Muriak and whispering, Cruneval said, “No. They are the bullet, you are the trigger and I am the trigger finger. Until I authorize action, you do nothing. This is my show. Understood?”

“Of course,” Muriak replied with a touch of bitterness.

As Cruneval walked away, Muriak brooded.

“You never know. Troubling things can happen in combat under the best of circumstances.”

***

Wakil Amed Ghaffar studied the reports on his desk with smug satisfaction.

His Insurgent foot soldiers’ successes capturing and holding disputed territory were happening every day. Soon, no tribal leader would oppose him. The only setback had been the death of Nasir Maloof Fakhoury. Seldom did Allah bless the faithful with a man who was a born warrior-commander. Nasir had been one of the chosen. His death weighed on Ghaffar.

Thinking about the death of Nasir reminded Ghaffar of Abdul Akhund.

“Akhund is a mediocre fighter more suited to cleaning stables than leading men. The defeats suffered by my Insurgents in the last few days are all tainted with his stench. The godforsaken haramzedeh is involved in the deaths of over 353 fighters in just the last day! If he survives his mission with Salah udeen Fakhoury, I swear to end him.”

Loud voices snapped Ghaffar’s thoughts back to the here and now. The door to the guarded entrance from the stable opened, and Fakhoury entered.

“Chieftain Ghaffar, we were attacked by an invisible monster spewing red lightning. Most of my men died fighting,” Fakhoury blubbered.

“What?” Ghaffar whispered.

“Akhund’s stories were true,” Fakhoury declared. “I saw it with my own eyes. Out of a clear sky, lightning bolts appeared, burning holes through my men. We fired hundreds of bullets, but they bounced off the beast’s hide and caused us even more agony.”

“Calm down, man,” Ghaffar said as he gestured. “Sit and tell me what happened. You are safe here.”

“A giant, gray-white insect appeared and landed. It spoke and ordered Akhund to come forward. It ate him in one gulp. Then it ordered us away. I fled with my brother’s body. I don’t understand. What does it mean?”

The look on Fakhoury’s face startled Ghaffar. Gone was the hatred and need for revenge prompted by the death of his brother. Instead, fear of the unknown glistened in his eyes and furrowed his brow.

Ghaffar frowned.

“What could turn a warrior of Allah into a sniveling wretch? Maybe it was time to take over direct command of this operation.”

Looking at the crisp crease in his trousers and the toes of his polished boots, Ghaffar decided not to act with too much haste. He could always find more soldiers willing to risk their lives for his cause. Replacing himself would be most difficult.

***

“Do you have a fix on the computer systems monitoring Frost’s GPS signal?” Ty asked. Fisheye and he stood behind Hashtag in Elvis’ cockpit.

“Yes, visual display enabled,” Elvis replied.

A view of Earth, as if Ty was standing a couple of hundred kilometers above it, appeared. Four red circles floated in orbit over the planet and an additional amber circle was located on the eastern seaboard of the United States.

“What does this mean?” Hashtag asked.

“Four geosynchronous satellites track the unique GPS signal from Frost’s transmitter. Her location anywhere on the planet is known 24 hours a day. All the satellites transmit their data to the site indicated by the amber circle here,” Elvis replied.

A green arrow appeared, pointing at the amber ring on the eastern seaboard.

“Can you get a closer look at the place indicated by the arrow?” Ty asked.

The change of view was startling. The picture was clear enough to show tree leaves twisting in the wind. The top of a square, cream colored building appeared. Ty could see people standing at the four corners of the roof.

“Can you zoom in on one of the individuals?”

The view narrowed and sharpened. It was as if they were hovering a couple of meters over the guy’s head. The clarity was astonishing. They could make out stitching in his cap.

“I can provide microscopic examination if you desire,” Elvis said.

“No,” Ty responded with a wry look. “This is just fine.”

The man wore a combat outfit and the barrel of his tri-pod supported weapon was equipped with a silencer.

“High ground, high caliber and silent,” Fisheye said. “No ordinary defense.”

“That building is our target,” Ty declared. “Elvis, approximate arrival time.”

“Three minutes. Any faster and my electronic countermeasures might fail to hide our approach.”

“Make it ten,” Ty said. “We need time to prepare.”

***

The MRAP chugged into the American Army Base and slid to a sputtering stop. Steam shot from the motor housing, and the drips of oil from the transmission turned to gushes as its seals gave way.

Armed guards surrounded the vehicle, but Thann flashed her ID and trotted past them toward the communications shed. Frost and Turner followed her.

“Out of the way,” Thann ordered as she pulled the headphones off the corporal jotting down notes about his latest communique and shoved him away from the transmitter. Turning the frequency knob to the SEED private band and switching the sound to the external speakers, she uttered the key words activating the link.

“Reap the seed you sow.”

There was a moment of static followed by an electronic click. A voice answered.

“Name and code.”

“Kristan Thann, Zebra Echo David Niner Two Niner Six,” Thann replied into the mic.

“Voice analysis and code confirmed. Agent Thann, are you in a secure area?”

“Hold,” Thann replied.

Looking at Frost, she nodded. Frost was the original agent on-scene and had been introduced to the Base personnel by Colonel Hubert. Per standard protocol when dealing with SEED operatives, Hubert had ordered his people to follow her instructions.

“Get out,” Frost ordered.

The sullen faces on the Communications Staff leaving the shed were angry and puzzled, but they obeyed her. As soon as they closed the door behind them, Thann turned to the microphone.

“I need to speak with Cruneval,” she said.

“Not possible at the moment. What is your location? Have you had any contact with Agent Frost?”

“Frost is here with me now. Turner as well. What do you mean it’s not possible to talk to Cruneval?”

Instead of answering, the voice asked a question.

“Was your mission successful?”

Hesitating a moment, Thann replied, “It is still in progress. I need to speak with Cruneval.”

Just as she spoke the last word, the sound of an electronic, whishing hum droned from the speakers over Thann’s head. More hums were followed by the sound of an explosion and the transmission cutoff.

“What is going on?” Thann blustered.

Clutching the mic stand with both hands, she yelled, “SEED control, respond! What’s happening?”

***

“Target the communications array. We don’t need to worry about someone calling for reinforcements,” Ty ordered.

“I will destroy both the transmitter antennas and the equipment generating the signals,” Elvis replied. “There may be an antenna array off-site reserved for emergency use the transmitter equipment could access if the satellite feed is unavailable.”

“Good thinking,” Ty said.

Koritt was amazed. The transport Computer was acting like a member of Lavender’s team. He had never considered using the Computer as anything other than a tool to simplify ship operation. The Humans treated the Computer like it was a living being, and it was responding. Koritt hated to admit it, but he was fascinated with the Human ability to use tools in unconventional ways. His mind was jarred from its reverie by the hum of laser generators.

Laser bolts sliced apart the satellite dishes lining one side of the building’s roof and skewered the middle of its western wall. Dark gray smoke began drifting out of the holes in the structure.

“Caution. The small number of armed personnel on sight does not conform with the description of this location as SEED headquarters,” Elvis said.

Again, Koritt was taken aback. With no prompting, the Computer had leapt to a conclusion based upon limited data. Elvis was performing operations beyond its core programming.

“Interesting. Can you access the SEED computers?” Hashtag asked.

“One moment. Odd. Each time I penetrate the network firewall, the computer primary operating core shifts to another location.”

“Without its uplink to the satellite network, the only option the AI has available to protect itself is shifting its kernel to another compatible system within the building,” Hashtag said. “I’ve seen this type algorithm before. It was being developed while I was at MIT.”

“Crap!” Ty gritted. “We don’t have time for this nonsense.”

***

The Seeker was several kilometers off the Maryland coast, heading on a general course for the Mediterranean Sea, when the satellite connection with SEED headquarters terminated.

“What’s wrong?” Cruneval muttered into his intercom.

One of the monitors in the conference room in his quarters was flashing a red display warning that satellite connection with SEED Base had terminated.

“All communications with Base disconnected one minute ago. I have attempted contact via sat-phone and conventional radio without success,” a voice responded.

Cruneval’s gut tightened. First Frost disappeared. Then Thann and Turner. Now his base of operations had gone silent. The failures and missteps in the last few days were out of hand.

“Return to Base. Emergency speed. Tell Muriak to come to my ready room,” Cruneval ordered.

The jet engines roared, and the cabin tilted thirty degrees as the huge aircraft swept around and arrowed toward the mainland. Papers and unsecured objects slid to the deck and 6 Gees pushed Cruneval into his seat cushions.

“Estimated time to arrival,” Cruneval wheezed.

“Fifteen minutes,” the pilot replied. “I’m pushing the engines hard.”

The cabin door opened, and Muriak entered. He struggled to stay upright until the C-17 leveled off. He had a puzzled expression.

“Why the fuss?” he asked. “We have lost communication with the Base before. Don’t you think you’re overreacting?”

“Recent events point to the unusual. I might agree with you if Frost, Thann or Turner had responded to our hails. Two failed missions and the destruction of the C-17 recommend a change of tact. Don’t question me again,” Cruneval said.

Nodding, Muriak started to comment when the intercom buzzed and the communication orderly said, “Sir, Agent Thann is on the Sat radio. She wants to speak with you. It’s urgent.”

Cruneval didn’t hesitate. “On my way. Follow me,” he told Muriak as he trotted out of the cabin.

***

The bulkheads of the Seeker’s communication cabin were lined with monitors and equipment designed to keep SEED advised of worldwide current events.

All major news media outlets and social media platforms were surveilled 24 hours a day by a dedicated computer algorithm designed to discover the latest information about alien encounters. Cruneval sat down at the terminal indicated by an orderly and wrapped headphones over his ears.

“Agent Thann, Cruneval here.”

“Sir, I was trying to contact you at Base and my Sat feed was cut off. Thank goodness I tried the frequency for the Seeker. Are you all right?”

“Of course. I’m only a few minutes flight time away from Base. Headed there now. Where are you? What is your status?”

“I’m at an Army base in Afghanistan. I’ll explain later. Sir, I believe the SEED Base is under attack. Our attempts to capture the alien craft were unsuccessful. Agent Frost was held captive by them, but she managed to escape and is with Turner and me now.”

“Put Frost on,” Cruneval said.

“I’m here,” Frost said.

“You were captured?”

“Yes. The alien craft has been commandeered by an American military squad led by Lieutenant Ty Lavender. This Lavender character said he was going to turn the craft over to the Army. He doesn’t understand our mission and thinks of SEED as an enemy. He’s a vindictive type.”

“How did you escape?”

“After he shot down the C-17, he decided I was excess baggage. Left me near Thann and Turner.”

“Just left you?” Cruneval asked.

“Yes, Sir. He’s a real piece of work.”

“Sounds like it. Can you tell me anything about the armament and defenses of the alien craft?”

“A practical invisibility screen and laser weapons that don’t require a recharging delay. There may be other weapons, but none I was shown.”

“I want you all back to Home base on the next available transport. Cruneval out.”

After ending the transmission, Cruneval sat in silent thought, until Muriak lost patience.

“What are your orders, Sir?”

Scowling at the interruption, Cruneval said, “Have your men gear up in bio-enhanced combat suits. I want prisoners for interrogation so tell your men to leave survivors. I’m going to activate the amplified EMP when we arrive. It won’t affect our shielded Base computers, but it may give us an advantage over the attackers.”

Saluting with a straight face, Muriak hustled from the cabin. It took all his self-control not to slam the door. Returning to Base after twenty minutes in the air was not the auspicious beginning he had imagined as the new, chief SEED agent. Somehow he had to show his worth to Cruneval before Frost, Thann and Turner reappeared.

***

“Get us on the ground,” Ty said. “The rest of this operation will have to be from inside the building.”

“Everyone is geared up and ready,” Wraith said. “Even the old man has a glint in his eye.”

“Remind me to tell Colonel Hubert how you described him,” Ty said.

Wraith was thinking about a reply when Elvis interrupted.

“My long-range sensors have picked up movement over the ocean but nothing visual. Logic suggests some kind of advanced concealment technology.”

“Maybe the input sensitivity of the sensors needs to be adjusted,” Hashtag suggested.

“No, whatever my sensors detected is approaching our location on a direct course. Just because it can’t be seen does not mean the readings are incorrect. ETA in three minutes.”

“Can you outrun it?” Ty asked.

“Affirmative. Estimated speed of the anomaly is a fraction of my own.”

Without warning, a klaxon began blaring.

“Warning. I just neutralized an electro-magnetic pulse. It had unusual strength. I am attempting to recalibrate my defensive shielding. I may not be able to withstand damage to my systems from another pulse,” Elvis said with a near-Human tinge of worry.

A burst of sparks erupted from the main console and smoke billowed from side panels. Ty sensed a flicker, like a long eyeblink, and the invisibility screen failed.

“Elvis, what’s happening? Elvis!” Hashtag screamed.

There was no response. The transport fell from the sky and bounced as it struck the ground. Trees splintered under its weight, and the deck tilted as the transport’s side gouged a deep rut in the earth. The cluster of antennas above the forward observation windows sheared off. The momentum dampeners failed, and Ty slammed against a bulkhead. The last thing he saw before losing consciousness was Wraith crawling toward him.

***

The thundering roar of jet engines and the shuddering airframe told Muriak the Seeker was transforming to hovering mode. The noise meant the aircraft was within firing range of the Base.

A deep, electronic hum signaled the firing of the EMP emitter. A familiar whine rose to a high pitch as the capacitors recharged for another blast. The whine intensified to a pitch beyond the range of Human hearing, and seconds later, another electronic hum vibrated through the ship.

After a brief pause, a voice over a loudspeaker said, “Prepare for landing. Enemy ship has crashed, but survivors may offer resistance. We want captives where possible.”

Muriak felt the load dampeners flexing in the landing gear and the cargo door began opening before the Seeker was stationary. Leading the way, Muriak headed toward the crashed alien craft followed by his thirty-man platoon.

***

Koritt had trained for crash landings and braced for impact. His multiple limbs and innate Insectoid strength came in handy as the transport bounced and plowed into the ground.

The Earth Humans weren’t so lucky. Their bodies slammed into cabinets and the deck. The special body armor didn’t protect their heads, and a few moments after the transport slid to a stop, Koritt was sure they were unconscious.

He was deciding what to do when an aircraft, similar to the one Ty’s group had shot down in the desert canyon, thundered to a landing a few hundred meters away. The question of whether the craft was filled with rescuers or combatants was answered when a number of armed Humans stormed out of it and headed toward him.

With a disgusted chirp, Koritt hustled out of the command cabin and touched the activation pad hidden on the bulkhead in the crew seating area. A catch released and a panel clicked open. Pulling the access panel toward him, Koritt slipped into the escape pod hidden behind it and snapped the panel closed. Shielded against all known forms of active and passive detection, he could hole up in the pod while the repair mechanisms in the transport re-booted.

Once the transport was air-worthy, he would retrieve the U-10 and . . . His thoughts clouded. The word his brain was thinking was ‘escape’. The trouble was his conscience was arguing ‘protect the Humans’.

Taking a deep breath and grimacing as he made his choice, he settled back to wait for the right moment to emerge from his hiding place.

***

“I want fifteen on each side. Nothing escapes,” Muriak yelled.

The hatch below the bulbous observation ports was ajar. It looked like it was opening during the crash and jammed into the ground. One side of its structure was buried, but otherwise it was undamaged. Nothing seemed to be moving inside the craft, but Muriak’s training had included encounters with invisibility screens. Seeing no threat put him on high alert.

“Do the sensors detect any movement, air pressure or temperature changes?” he asked.

“None, Sir,” the tech said as he studied the readings on his iPad.

“Check for hull damage and any other open ports,” Muriak ordered.

Waiting while his men inspected the ship, Muriak marveled that the crash caused such little visible harm. Other than a broken antenna array over the observation ports, not even the gray-white coating on the craft was scratched.

When the last team reported there was no other access to the craft except the open hatch, he organized his platoon into five-man teams. Three teams slunk into the craft while the remaining teams guarded against any escape.

They found several entities in strange blue suits lying unconscious in various areas of the ship. Their appearance was Human, and he guessed they were part of the Ty Lavender squad Frost had described. The one casualty was an older man dressed in desert camouflage. He was wearing Colonel insignia and his nametag identified him as Hubert. It looked like his head had struck the corner of a metal cabinet during the crash. Assigning one team to bind and gag the survivors, Muriak and the others worked their way through the ship.

They reached the control cabin at last and found three more Human-like entities in blue outfits. Binding them and having his men drag them to the cargo hold, Muriak called Cruneval.

“Sir, we have the alien craft under our control. All entities onboard are restrained.”

“Excellent. Bring the hostages to the Interrogation Suite. I’ll meet you there.”