VII.
He was crashing. Tearing through space, blazing a trail of temporal matter in his wake.
A shrill, ominous alarm sounded from the small pod ship's control panel.
"Five hundred thousand kilometers to impact." A serene, female voice sounded over the alarm.
He had been ordered to return to Homan, ordered to warn the Senate of the impending invasion by the Clade general army. The Clades were merciless. The Haemovariform were being slaughtered, despite their unique defense system.
His ship was crashing. Blown off course by a Clade fighter craft. The hyper drive was hit, and now he was crashing towards an alien planet light years away from the war. He had to complete his mission. He had to return to Homan, report to the Senate. The Alpha had been assassinated, and now chaos reigned on the planet Krumas, in the Arch System where the war raged.
The soldiers, leaderless, where struggling to hold off the Clade onslaught. If he didn't return with a new Alpha, all would be lost.
But he was not on course to Homan now. Now he was displaced – out of time, out of space, out of range. He was crashing towards…Earth. The child planet Earth, a thousand years earlier than the time of the Clade invasion.
What would he do?
"Four hundred thousand kilometers to impact."
He locked into the mainframe, reaching out with his mind, and gained access to its archives. He scanned through the images and data of the planet Earth, looking for conditions in which he might survive, and find a way to continue his mission.
"Evasive maneuver engaged." The voice announced. The ship veered, and suddenly the child planet's moon was before him. Large and gleaming white on one side, pitch black on the other.
The moon was key. He jettisoned the signal pod. It had been damaged when the ship was hit, but it was still functional. He would need it if he was to assume a form on this planet. At the moment, he existed as nothing more than consciousness. The ship was his body, and he shared his 'mind' with the mainframe.
"Signal pod ejected. Course to Earth moon locked. Three hundred thousand meters to impact with Earth."
He searched more quickly now, thousands of pieces of information flickering by with each second. What time was he crashing toward? What place? Then he found it. Northern America, Southern region; the planet's early twentieth century. He searched through hundreds of catalogues of information about the time and region.
"Two hundred thousand meters to impact."
He would be crashing through the outer atmosphere soon. He thought quickly, still searching. He had no time to lose. He would activate a rescue beacon. It would take many, many years to reach Homan, but perhaps by then he could make due with what was being given to him and complete his mission.
Earth was home to humans. The human species were acceptable candidates for wavelength bonding. They were perfectly fine hosts. He could set up a small breeding operation, build an army with which to return to Krumas – where the Clade army might be caught off guard. One lone messenger solider they thought they'd done away with would return with leagues of fighters, all the better to outnumber them and drive them back.
The mighty Haemovariform would be victorious yet.
Perhaps he could even find an Alpha.
"One hundred thousand meters to impact. Request collision coordinates."
He searched. Thousands of faces, hundreds of files on human kind. One name stood out. Made him pause. Perhaps it was that he was running out of time. Perhaps it was that he was clinging to a plan that was desperate at best. But the name made him stop, and he scanned the information that accompanied it.
The name was Wolf.
He rifled through the file. Charismatic. Imposing. Intimidating. Perseverance in the face of oppression. A figure of reverence for a mass number of the human population. If his people revered him, he could lead them easily once they made the bond. Excellent.
White Station, Mississippi.
"Collision course laid in. Fifty thousand kilometers to impact."
The time line was a disadvantage but perhaps he could begin his work, recruiting soldiers, and wait the Wolf out. It would take a full rotation cycle of this planet's moon before he could get to the Wolf. But by then he could at least begin the process of infecting hosts.
Once the Alpha was found and went through the bonding process, however, they would be unstoppable.
By the time the Senate's rescue ships arrived, if he was not hindered in his work, countless thousands of soldiers could be ready to return to Krumas and overtake the Clade army.
"Collision stabilizers failing. Forty thousand kilometers to impact. Thirty. Twenty. Ten thousand kilometers."
He passed through the atmosphere.
With his mission set, he waited. He began to fall faster and faster, having passed into the atmosphere, where the gravitational pull tripled. He scanned the area around the impact zone. Two townships, separated by a body of water and a narrow wood.
He was able to activate the cloaking device, disguising him from human notice, as he plummeted towards impact. The serene mainframe voice counted down as he fell.
"Five hundred meters. Four hundred. Three hundred meters. Two hundred. One hundred meters to impact."
«∑Ω§» «∑Ω§» «∑Ω§»
Percy Daniels and his friend 'Slick Tony' Stiles had snuck into the woods to smoke a joint down by the creek. They brought a little moonshine and walked lightly with smiles on their faces, talking excitedly about the weeks to come. Slick Tony had just breezed on into town from Tennessee, and they were walking back from the train to Mister John's GYST House, where Tony would stay and make a few duckets working the juke joint as a piano player. Between the two of them, they were confident that in a year or so, they could save up enough to move up North.
The Haemovariform neither knew nor cared of Percy and Tony's dreams and ambitions. He was crashing. He had a mission to carry out. The boys were indeed in the wrong place at the wrong time.
Tony rolled the joint, and the boys sat perched on the bank, obscured by the shade of the trees.
Tonight was the last night of a full moon. The signal, though damaged, was in place.
The boys didn't see anything, but they heard the ship hit the water. The impact made a giant splash, only a yard or so away from them. The clouds parted, and the moon shone brightly on them, allowing them to see the water settling back in place.
Tony spoke with the joint bobbing between his lips, asking Percy just what in blue hell was that?
Percy suggested they investigate.
A little ways further, Mister John was riding along on his horse. He was just arriving home from his job picking apples for Edward Lacey. He heard the screaming clear across the wood, and he knew instantly that it was his boy Percy. The boy who saddled his horse for him in the mornings, the boy who wanted to own his own juke joint one day, the boy who wanted Fletch to teach him to read, the boy who he had come to love like a son.
That boy was screaming.
He tethered his horse, grabbed his pistol from concealed under a rock hole near his mailbox, and hauled ass into the woods. Earl Wilkes and Walter Fletcher were picking their teeth on the porch, having just had their bellies filled up with some of Sweet Mama's cooking. Earl had seen Mister John's horse coming around the bend in the road.
They heard the screaming too.
Without even waiting for Mister John to get his gun, they started running towards the sound of their young friend's horrified screams.
When they reached the creek – hours before Martha and the Doctor would arrive in the TARDIS a quarter mile further down the bank – they saw Percy being…fed on…by an enormous beast. They didn't see Slick Tony; didn't know or care of his arrival. Of his plans with Percy. Of their innocent detour to get high by the creek at night. Didn't notice that the wolf was wearing human clothing, albeit shredded to almost nothing. Things like that are hard to take heed of when your friend is being ripped apart.
All they saw was a giant demon dog feasting on their friend. The moonlight was so bright they didn't need their flashlights. Mister John shot at it; it snarled and a second later it was gone. Just gone.
«∑Ω§» «∑Ω§» «∑Ω§»
He hadn't realized how famished he would be, having taken a human host. The transformation was much slower with humans. Their physical makeup needed to be rearranged – mutated – to accommodate him. The other human's blood was wafting on the air, a heady aroma that would not be ignored. In a moment of blinding bloodlust, he attacked.
Now he needed to get his bearings. The other humans had a weapon. Retreat seemed the best course of action until he could properly assess what damage their weapons would do to him. He soon discovered – nothing, much. His tissue was regenerative – an odd side effect of using a human host? Their natural healing abilities accelerated by the transmutation? He wasn't a breeder; he didn't quite understand. But no matter. It worked in his favor.
The human's mind, the one he used as host, was deadlocked in a loop of terror and confusion, from his last waking moments as he was taken over. He caught snatches of memory and conscious thought, but they were easily ignored.
He had only been on this child planet Earth for a short while, but already he could see its potential. Millions and millions of ready hosts, and those who would not experience the bond could serve to feed on.
He licked the blood from his jaws. Now his mission would begin.
