“‘Plah-stik May-nuh-fac-tu-ring Plant’.” Nod enunciates, brows knitting together in confusion before he says to Kyp– “What does that mean?”
They had commandeered an airport taxi and given him the coordinates to the crystal. The taxi stopping in front of a decrepit facility was an unforeseen occurrence.
“Of course you ask the person who traveled light years with you to be here.” Kyp shoots Nod a stink eye, and Nod wrinkles.
“Do not nag Kyp, you are the only one of us who has been here before.” Nelzux joins the conversation, eyes darting about the large building, probing for flaws and weaknesses.
“Earth.” Kyp corrects, head swiveling between the two men on each side of him. “I have been on Earth before. Not a building that just so happens to be a Plant.” He waves a hand about, encapsulating the structure in front of them.
Nod flinches at the loud blare of a car horn. The three of them pivoting to find their airport taxi driver still parked, his expression a dangerous thing.
“Who’s gonna pay me my money, gents?” The driver asks, eyes fearless in their swift dart from one man to the next.
Nelzux tosses the man a hefty wad of cash–he had stolen from a passenger on the plane beforehand–the driver sparing only a single second to gape at the excess amount, before driving off in a cloud of dust, his middle finger hefted up and waving goodbye from outside the side window.
“Humans,” Nod spits, first at the driver then at the facility in front, “their cruelty knows no bounds. No vegetation deserves this, no matter its wrongdoings.” He bows his head in reverence at the clumps of grass around them.
Nelzux pulls out the scanner from his back pocket, ignoring his comrade''s lamentations.
“The signal is strong here.” He swings the device around, relishing the rapid beeps it emits. “I can almost taste the energy.”
A security camera sits at the far left side, lens zooming in in focus.
The General walks into the tense room, eyes swiveling about to catalog every image displayed on the numerous large monitors in the room.
“What’s the problem?” He asks.
“These men showed up a couple of minutes ago, sir.” A plain clothed officer supplies, finger tapping on the tiny men on the normal-sized monitor.
The General moves closer to the monitor with a squint, watching the men converse.
“What have they been doing so far?” He retrieves a pair of reading glasses from his breast pocket, his squint lessening some once his spectacles are in place.
“Nothing sir, just standing and talking.
The handsomer fellow there whipped out some sort of metal detector from his back pocket, but that was it.” The CSO answers, with a gesture at the one in ripped jeans.
“Do you think they''re aware of what''s going on in here?” The General asks.
The CSO shrugs, hands coming to rest on his hips. “Well if they are, they don''t seem to be doing much about it.”
The General nods tentatively, eyes returning to narrow at the moving images on the monitor, as if willing it to suddenly combust.
Nod bounces impatiently on the balls of his feet, watching Nelzux scan every inch of the Plant. Left to his own devices he would be standing atop a victorious rubble of the abhorrent dwelling by now, not surveying its workmanship.
“Why are we standing out here, like we require their permission to enter?” He rumbles.
“Brains before brawns Nod.” Nelzux answers, tucking the scanner back in his pocket. “First we analyze, before we vanquish.”
“They are humans, we don''t need to study to know how to kill them. Just squeeze till they pop.” He clenches a raised fist, his knuckles cracking along in loud agreement.
“I am with Nelzux.” Kyp says, and Nod huffs. When was he ever not? “Why would they keep something as powerful as a Xylon Crystal, in a plant turned building?”
Nelzux''s eyebrows immediately furrow, eyes widening and then narrowing in severe offense. The onslaught of emotions causes Nod to scratch his head in contemplation. Things like these were why he was more comfortable on the battlefield. You didn''t have to know what your opponent was thinking before you unsheathed their bowels.
“Unless they have no idea what it is.” Nelzux says finally, eyes shifting ahead, from where a uniformed man is approaching them.
“I don''t mean to bother you fine gentlemen, but this place is restricted.” The uniformed man natters.
Nelzux strides forward, leaving Kyp and Nod behind to meet the tiny man halfway. “By whose orders exactly?” he asks.
“The Government of the United States of America.” The guard says. “So uh, if you don''t mind exiting the property.” He gestures to the route they came from.
“Nod?” Nelzux says in disinterest, turning to Nod before waving a hand at the guard in front.
Nod starts toward the security official with a sly smile. The security guard takes a reactionary position, hand flying to the primitive thing beside him that looks like a small blaster.
“That''s far enough, sir.” he instructs, hands flying into firing position, the blaster raised in his grip.
“This is for all the plants that have suffered tyranny from your kind.” Nod says, thick, large tentacles bursting out of his chest, to impale the CSO.
The General averts his eyes from the monitors in pure disgust, gasps of fright echoing around him.
“Jesus.” He mutters. “Lock the building down, now!”
Lights and alarms begin to strobe and blare; external bulletproof doors dropping down all around the exterior of the building.
Nelzux casts an amused look at the newly introduced external door. “Look at them rally.” He says, palm resting on the solid steel.
Nod dislodges his tentacles from the gaping hole in the dead man''s chest, sighing in completion as they retract back into his body, skin netting back seamlessly. “Your turn, Nelzux.”
“Indeed.” Nelzux cracks his neck, left then right. His eyes igniting bright red, he starts to levitate, his feet gradually leaving the ground.
Chris steps out of his office, face set in confusion. He eyes the packed hallway, lab coats and soldiers scurrying the entire length in what he identifies as panic. Ensuring his office door is locked, he shoves down the hallway himself, in search of the General.
He rushes into the Security room, bumping into the transfixed General.
“Glenn! What in God''s name–?” He stops mid sentence as his eyes land on the monitor.
“For the sake of everyone here Chris, I hope you''ve brought good news.” The General addresses him, eyes still transfixed on the scene in front of them.
“Ah shit.” Chris cowers, as he watches Nelzux–from the monitors, release an energy blast that violently rocks the building.
Melted red metal sizzles, broken glasses crunching under the soles of the Aliens’ shoes as they step into the building. An irritating noise blares throughout the interior, electric cables dangling from their place in the ceilings above.
“It is quiet.” Kyp says, and Nod wonders if his friend has gone deaf.
“I know. I do not like it.” Nelzux says, eyes on the lookout for movement. “Kyp?”
Kyp bows in pleasure. “Of course.”
Suddenly two other Kyps step out of the original, and scatter into different hallways.
“Signal when you find it.” Nelzux says to the original Kyp who nods and leaves.
Nelzux and Nod proceed forward. Suspicious and alert.
They barely walk three feet, when a unit of armed soldiers assemble. Their formation choreographed a thousand times, guns at the ready.
The one in front yells something and they empty clip after clip, on Nod and Nelzux, mouths falling open in undignified gapes when the bullets dislodge from their bodies without so much as a drop of blood.
Original Kyp takes cautious steps. Agonizing screams reaching him from the next hallway. He shakes his head in pity, Nod and Nelzux.
He moves undaunted, as silently as he can, turning right and stopping in horror at the front of a room with transparent glass doors.
“By the gods!” he exclaims, pushing to enter into the room containing unspeakable abominations.
A man appears from the corner, blood dripping from a cut above his eye, a strange blaster in hand aimed at Kyp.
“Right there''s fine.” Chris says, and Kyp glimpses his shaking grip on the contraption.
Bearing it no mind, his eyes return to the crystal in the room. Raw energy emanating from it pooling to the ceiling.
“That will not work on me.” Kyp says finally.
“Please test me, so we can find out.” As far as Chris is concerned, it''s the conviction in his voice that finally gets Kyp to turn to him in acknowledgment.
“I did not come for you, human.” he says.
Chris scoffs. “I suppose you''re here for ‘the Precious’ then?”
“No, I am here for the crystal.” A confused frown settles on Kyp''s face.
Chris squares his shoulders, letting his finger on the trigger power up the bulky blaster. “Yea well, over my dead body.”
“And it will be so. Over the dead bodies of everyone on this planet, if you continue doing–” Kyp takes an almost fearful glance at the crude, half-finished experiments surrounding the crystal, “--what it is you are doing.”
“What''s it to you?” Chris asks.
Kyp straightens, a look–that Chris fondly recognizes as Akio''s lecturing look, settles across his face. “That is a Xylon Crystal, the last of its kind. Discontinued across 10 galaxies, for being extremely unstable. So you can imagine our surprise when we located one, after almost 3000 years, here on Midgard.”
This particular lecture left a bad taste in Chris'' mouth, not at all like Akio''s fond reprimands.
“How dangerous is it?” Chris mellows, gun powering down.
“That one crystal, at the rate it is going, can wipe out your entire Solar System, in 48 of your earth hours.” Kyp warns.
There the foreboding of impending doom was.
“I told those idiots to stop with the probing.” Chris laughs without humor, glimpsing the confused look the Alien was giving him for talking to himself from the corner of his eye. “So you''re here to retrieve it, save us?”
“Yes.” Kyp swallows as he lies. “Although, Midgard lacks the appropriate equipment for a successful ejection. Necessarily, we will have to take it off world.”
Off world he could work with, off world meant away from Earth.
Chris finally relaxes, his gun falling to his side. “And if I help you, you''ll leave?”
“You have my word, as a Nekkarian.” Kyp finishes, extending an upturned hand. Chris peers into his palm, finding nothing. Kyp must notice his disappointment, for he explains– “A Nekkarian''s word is his bond. A bond that cannot be broken.”
Chris nods in understanding, hands outstretched and about to meet the Alien’s when–
Thwipp!
A burst of blue light. Then blood. It spreads from a spot in Kyp''s chest, and he drops forward to the floor, revealing the General behind him. Gun similar to Chris'' own held proficiently in hand.
“What have you done?” Chris drops to the unconscious body on the floor, hands abandoning his gun, to staunch the bleeding.
“Secure him.” The General says in his ‘bode no nonsense’ voice. “I''ll be back.”
He strides out of the room without waiting for an answer. Chris busying himself with reviving their fallen potential ally.
Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.
Nelzux, Nod and two Kyp copies stand victorious over the dead soldiers sprawled out on the floor.
Nod kicks unsatisfyingly at a particularly headless corpse. The fight had ended before he could properly savor the feel of being in battle once again, the humans perishing before he even had a proper grip on them. He does a little turn in inspection of the dead people strewn about. He didn''t even get to unsheath his tentacles for the fight.
Nelzux opens his mouth to say something when suddenly, the two Kyp copies scream in agony before dissipating. Nod alerts.
“Kyp.” He says.
Both Nelzux and Nod whipping around to find the General approaching them in misplaced bravery, brandishing a more acceptable version of a blaster in hand.
Nod strides toward him preparing to attack, surely this promised a better fight. He is taken aback when Nelzux stops him, the human’s sudden audacity throwing him off.
“Something is amiss.” Nelzux says, hand gripping his shoulder. Nod barely has time to complain, before the human fires the blaster just as Nelzux grabs a metal door, blocking the shot.
It sends them flying through where the door was once situated, and they land deplorably on the ground.
Nod scrambles for purchase on the sand, angling for a fight. He rises to his feet, tentacles peeking out in wait for the human who was nearly to them. The man steps out into the sun and Nod charges, Nelzux once again hindering him with a crushing grip.
“We must go!” Nelzux says. Nod hopes he hadn''t dented his head from when they fell.
“Kyp is still in there!” He balks, since the task of reminding Nelzux that they were supposed to be three fell to him.
“Now!” Nelzux says through grit teeth, grabbing Nod and lifting off to the sky, just as the human General fired his gun, missing them by a hair''s breadth.
<hr>
Sometime before the Present …
Alex bristles under the gaze of 75 people glowering in sync. She lets a slow wolfish smile, baring too many teeth spread across her face, the gum–which coincidentally was the cause of the current state of affairs–peeking out the side of her clasped teeth.
The Tour Guide takes a quick glance at the electronic tablet in her hands, eyes skating down the glossary of students present in search of her name.
“Alexandria.” She finds it, her head lifting up to regard Alex in irritation.
Alex rears back at the numerous exaggerated reactions. For christ’s sake all she did was smack gum! From the haughty stares she was currently receiving, one would think she pissed in a baby’s cereal.
She spits the chewed gum into her palm, making a theatrical show of binning it in the trash can beside her. Gum discarded, she lifts her empty hands in the air and does a quick turn, showcasing her present lack of anything bubble gum related.
“There, I’m unarmed.” She drolls, pinching her lips in a bid to stave off a smile when the tour guide hisses at her, before resuming her incessant chattering.
Alex lets herself get swept away by the shuffling horde as they move to another part of the workshop, slipping into her subconscious to tune out the monotone drone of the guide. Only jerking back to awareness when she hears a name she rather wished she hadn’t.
“… We’re lucky, Mr Jordan himself just came in!” The Tour Guide stretches out a performative arm in welcome, and Chris Jordan enters.
Dressed like your average Joe–In khaki shorts and a Polo tee–and not at all like one of the wealthiest men in America. He embraces the hostess to the applause of everyone present, except Alex, who was too busy panicking.
“I want to thank each and everyone of you, for taking the time to come here.” He turns to address the group of students that Alex was desperately trying to not be a part of. “We at Jordan Industries are always happy to welcome bright and innovative minds …”
Alex bumps into another student in her silent retreat. The bellend choosing to make a spectacle of a simple shoulder brush, thus prompting Chris to look her way.
His voice falters as his gaze lands on her in instant recognition.
~~~
“What?” Chris gasps, eyes blinking rapidly to acclimate to the surrounding darkness.
His chest is pressed excruciatingly into what he suspects is the mangled steering wheel, seatbelt biting into his left shoulder.
He turns to a bloody, unconscious Lilian in the passenger seat beside him, her tousled hair informing him that they were angled upside down. The seatbelt tearing into his arm the only thing keeping him from dropping through the windshield into the blackness below.
He groans in pain, instinctively reaching for his wife. “Lilian? Hey, honey?”
She lets out a pained whine, her eyes snapping open. “Chris?” She moans, hands scrambling for purchase. “What happened?”
He stills her frenzied hands before she can unclick her seatbelt.
“I have a feeling we’re gonna want to keep those on.”
~~~
Chris is snapped out of the memory by a polite cough from someone he can''t care to place at the moment.
“Um.” His eyes dart around unseeing for a moment and he lets out a puff of air.
“We''ve got souvenirs for each and every one of you, after the tour.” He claps his hands together, finishing awkward and abrupt. To his surprise, the students clap rather enthusiastically.
He sidesteps the lady trying to get his attention for … something, and starts towards the gathering of students. Only making it halfway before a technician pulls him to the side to talk shop.
“An inspiring speech, as always from the man himself.” He hears the Tour Guide say, prompting another unneeded round of applause.
Chris dislodges himself from the technician after promising his undivided attention to the eager man at a later time, interrupting the Tour Lady’s–probably–fiftieth speech of the week.
“Actually, why don''t you all come take a look at what we''ve got going on upstairs?” He says, eyes scanning the crowd for a particular head of short spiky hair.
The students murmur excitedly at the offer, and he counts it as a win. His eyes finally land on his prospect’s oscillating form, and he calms. He would have to work quickly, she looked ready to abscond at a moment’s notice.
“I know it''s not part of the tour but, what the heck?” He finishes hurriedly, watches her pivot swiftly, in a haste to get the heck out of there.
He gestures quickly to a security guard who rounds them up–to the girl’s chagrin– and shepherds them toward the stairs.
~~~
“Can you move?” He asks Lilian. His eyes finally used to the darkness, he could make out her profile.
“I think my leg is broken.” Lilian sobs. “How are we going to get out of this, Chris?”
He tilts his head at a faint sound, hoping to God it was what he thought it was.
“I think I hear sirens.”
~~~
The students stand enthusiastically behind a two way glass mirror, gawking at the Solar Nuclear Accelerator in all its glory. Chris is in front, stroking the glass pane like a proud father.
“Behold.” He says all show, and Alex could gag. “A Solar Accelerator. The first of its kind.”
A hand shoots up from the crowd. Chris points to him.
“Is it finished?” A bespectacled know-it-all asks.
“Not yet. But we just had a breakthrough that could shave off a couple years of work.” Chris is saying, and Alex couldn’t give two shits.
She shuffles impatiently, her eyes darting to the exit and back. She needed to get out of here posthaste. If she got down on hands and knees, she could probably crawl out of here unnoticed. That left the issue of the burly security guard; a cakewalk on any other day that didn’t involve a room full of people.
“That''s not right.”
She blinks rapidly in confusion, the wide eyes of everyone on her, confirming that the objection had absent-mindedly come from her.
“Oh Jesus.” She whispers to herself. The heels of her palms digging into her eyes in a ploy to expel her utter stupidity.
“Excuse me?” The man who had interrupted Chris asks testily.
She shrugs, in for a penny …
“The calculations are wrong."
The room is thrown into muttered protests, a couple of students side-eyeing her. She thinks she catches four-eyes giving her the finger.
The Technician squints at her tour guide “Isn''t this a Third Year class?
“Uh-- we–” Tour guide loses the fight with her tongue.
“What makes you think they''re wrong?” He twists back to her, hands in his pocket as he regards her vaingloriously. Alex couldn’t blame him, she had gotten herself into this particular mess.
“I calculated them,” She rebuts, “they didn''t correspond.”
“I don''t see you with a pen or a book, when did you find the time to calculate them?”
Her eyes flit to Chris who is stood to the side, jocular smile in place, as cavalier as can be. She narrows her eyes at him.
“In my head, as soon as he said them.” She replies to the technician, eyes not wavering from pinning Chris.
The technician snorts. “You calculated in 3 seconds, an equation that took almost 5 years to come up with?”
The students snicker loudly, to Alex’s annoyance.
“I know. It''s a wonder you still have your job.” She replies harshly, and hears Chris cackle softly.
Echoes of ‘ooh’ fill the room, the man''s imperious facade shattering into a thousand pieces.
He growls low in his throat before striding to a stop in front of her. Looking her dead in the eyes.
“Throw her out.” He grits. Thank God!
The security guard grabs Alex violently, about to lug her out of the room.
“Now wait a minute, Jerome.” Chris says, and everyone turns to him.
“If she says it''s wrong, I''d at least like to hear what she thinks is correct.” He crosses his arms in interest, amusement still smeared all over his face. And it''s Alex''s turn to growl.
The insulted technician–Jerome turns to Chris in affront. “Sir, do you really---?”
“She talks a big game.” Chris shrugs. “Let''s see if she has the brains to match it.”
Chris narrows his eyes at her, and she narrows hers right back, willing sudden combustion on his head.
~~~
Police cars and firetrucks are scattered on the bridge, a smouldering tanker and an ambulance idling by. An African-American Police officer approaches a perturbed Fireman.
“My man. What''s going on? When are we getting them out of there?” He asks
The Fireman opens his mouth to say something, closes it.
“Truthfully, I don''t know that we can.” He settles on, eyes flicking over the side of the bridge to peer at the wreckage down below.
The Policeman’s hands fly up to scrub down his face.
“The car is just too far down for anyone to climb down, and attach a tow cable to it.” The fireman finishes.
“Can''t we air lift them out of there?” The policeman turns a beseeching eye to his associate.
“Closest helicopter for that is 600 miles out.” He responds sadly. “That thing would most likely fall before it gets here, we''re working on a time constraint right now.”
The Fireman and Policeman share a look of regret.
~~~
Chris studies the proffered sheet of paper in deafening silence. His eyes constantly skating from the paper to Alex. The calculations were solid, results promising.
But theory was one thing, application was another.
His eyes finally abandon the paper, focusing solely on Alex. Fingers clasped together in undisguised fascination.
He hands the paper to Jerome who collects it with a disdainful smile. “I''ll have her escorted out.” He says.
“Apply it.” Chris says, watching his collective staff splutter like buffoons. The man opens his mouth to object, but Chris halts him with a finger.
“Then turn it on.”
“What?” Jerome roars.
~~~
A Reporter pats her unruly hair into place, giving her Camera crew the okay signal to begin a live broadcast.
The cameraman nods, counting down. “We''re on in 3, 2 …”
She pulls on a solemn face. “Over 45 minutes since the accident, and help still hasn''t–”
The lady is interrupted by the glitching street lights, the ‘recording’ light on the Camera flickering as well. The cameraman conks the Camera repeatedly, head lifting up to see News Helicopters beginning to stall, searchlights flickering. The pilots quickly head away, mechanisms correcting once they are a certain distance away from the accident scene.
Suddenly everything is plunged into blackout in a 2 mile radius.
Lilian gasps as a sudden darkness immerses everything. The cracked dashboard featuring the blinking ‘airbag on’ light flickering off too.
The din above them is louder now without the sounds of helicopter blades to drown them out, and Chris hopes the panic he hears is the sound of his own heartbeat.
“Chris, what''s going on?” Lilian sobs.
He entwines the fingers of his free hand with hers in silent support. “I don''t know, Lilian.”
Lilian shrieks long and hard as they start to drop, her grip on his hand tightening to an unbearable degree, before she abruptly passes out. Chris'' eyes scrunch shut. If this was the end, then by God he was going to go out with dignity.
A yelp is torn from his throat when he realizes that the car isn''t actually dropping, but is being heaved upwards. Hurling them what feels like ten feet in the air, before freefalling to the ground below.
His head whiplashes from the abrupt stop in descent before they can come in contact with the tarred road below them.
Chris groans softly, head throbbing as the car sets down gently–the right way up, with a thud. The screeching sound of his door ripping off its hinges tearing through the eerie night.
An African-American girl peeks her head in to check on them, Chris even in his frightened mess taking the time to be wowed by her rockstar-esque hairstyle.
She clocks his wide eyes and winces to herself. A murmured ‘shit’ spilling from her lips.
The street light in front of them flickers on, the brightness causing him to squint his eyes shut in surprise.
Chris turns back to the open door, to find the girl gone, and he blanches. Was it a dream?
The Paramedics and Policemen that immediately swarm the car afterwards convince him that it probably wasn''t.
~~~
Chris blinks back that particularly harrowing memory, hand lifting to massage the phantom pain at the back of his neck.
Alex is sloped indifferently against a table at the front of the small room, everything in her posture screaming she wanted to be anywhere else but here.
Jerome struts back in, eyes wide in laser focus, two-way radio in hand. “We''re ready, sir.” He informs him.
Chris rises from his seat. “Perfect.”
“Sir, I still think we should rethink this, there are kids here.” He leans in to whisper, the hand holding the radio vibrating significantly.
“Of course there are.” Chris replies, “But Miss--?” He waits for the girl to fill in her name. She doesn''t.
“Alexandria.” The tour guide supplies, and the girl–Alexandria whips to her with a ferocity that makes the woman shrink in on herself. Fascinating.
“Alexandria over there seems sure.” He continues to his staff. Turning to Alexandria in question. “Or weren''t you?”
She shoots him a wolfish smile, and Chris half expects to be reduced to a melted puddle as well.
“Why don''t you turn it on and find out?” She says sweetly.
“Very well.” Chris shrugs to his Technician. “She said to turn it on, Jerome.”
Jerome stares bloody murder at Alexandria. Mouth speaking into the radio, eyes still locked in a death glare. “Turn it on.”
The atmosphere is tense for a couple of minutes, as the Accelerator powers on. It sputters uncertainly, groaning for a moment before whirring on.
Chris'' eyes rake over the room, clocking the mild fear and unsure looks. If this didn''t work out, it would be a PR nightmare waiting to happen. The sound reduces to a low buzz as the machine stabilizes.
He turns to Jerome. “Well?”
The man swallows and asks into his receiver. “Status?”
The radio crackles ominously for a second, then– “Accelerator is stable and functioning as intended.”
Jerome swallows again, audibly this time, chastened eyes turning to Chris. “It''s stable.”
Chris lets a wide smile crawl onto his face.
“Ladies and Gentlemen, the first ‘functioning’ Solar Accelerator.” He announces to the relief of the room.
Multiple hands all shoot up at the same time, some not bothering with the gesture and instead yelling out their questions. The entire room is agog with excitement, Security guard, doing his best to stave off the students swarming towards Chris.
He looks to where he last saw Alexandria to find her gone. Again. The exit door swaying gently.