And Then There Is Bigger
Chapter 27
XXVII
"Wingman One! Wingman One! What's going on up there? Come in, Wingman One. Delta Three… Over." The pilot of the lower flying fighter jet, flying at an altitude of just under 1,000 feet, looked out his windshield, scanning the sky above for any sign of the missing pilot, but the only thing he saw was an increasingly darkening sky. Although he had no idea whether Wingman One was actually hearing him now or not, he continued to talk as though he could. "Uh… It looks like you were right, Wingman One. I'm starting to see that darkening sky you were talking about down here now, too. Guess the weather guys got it wrong when they said sunny and clear all day today, huh? Imagine that!"
There was no answer on the radio… only static.
Much higher up, at an altitude of 32,000 feet, Wingman One was having his own problems. His communications had gone totally to static. On top of that, he was flying directly beneath a descending dark cloud that looked increasingly un-cloudlike the lower it came. He had been too totally absorbed with watching the falling space ship after he shot it down, and he had no idea where this huge cloud had come from so suddenly.
Wingman One watched as the spacecraft he thought he had shot down rose back up through the wispy white clouds below him. Not one to give up easily, he armed another missile. Lining up the already half-destroyed craft in his cross-hairs, he flipped the switch that would fire missile number two. Nothing happened. Wingman One flipped the switch several more times. Still nothing. The missile systems were dead… just like his radio… and his compass… and most of his other systems. Only the radar and his engines still seemed to be functioning.
Wingman One watched, with a feeling of helplessness, as the spacecraft continued to rise upward and upward, approaching the darkening cloud mass above. What happened next, Wingman One was totally unprepared for. The bottom of the dark cloud opened up. There was light inside, and the damaged spacecraft was pulled inside with the light.
For a moment, Wingman One's mouth hung open inside his helmet, as the truth dawned on him. It was no cloud that was descending on him… It was a ship… an unbelievably huge ship… a mothership… probably come to rescue the smaller craft and its people… from him. Wingman One looked around the sky. The huge ship between him and the sun seemed to extend on and on. The jet's radar registered a solid mass extending for some 4,000 meters -over two miles- in front of him. Wingman One wondered how much of the craft extended behind his jet. A quick check gave him his answer. One thousand meters… plus a few… almost a mile. The object coming down directly on top of him was approximately three miles across… and very solid!
Wingman One rolled over and dived, taking his jet streaking downward through the wispy white clouds, hoping to get out from under what he knew now to be a huge spaceship… before it literally descended on top of him. But as fate would have it, his path took him directly into the attractor beam that had pulled the smaller craft into the larger ship. Wingman One's jet suddenly seemed to flounder and slow. It wobbled momentarily from side to side then began to fly around and around in small circles like a small toy going down the drain… except that it was going up, not down. It was all very dizzying. The fighter pilot wasn't quite sure if the feeling in the pit of his stomach was due to the "ride" or what he expected probably lay ahead.
Making a last-ditch effort to break free, Wingman One fired his engines to total power. It made no difference. He rolled his jet over in both directions and attempted to dive. There was no response. The jet hung in the air, still rising, like a toy on a string. Finally resigned to the inevitable, Wingman One closed his eyes, then he relinquished his controls. They were useless now anyway. Nothing he did made any difference. His jet… with him in it… was firmly in the grip of the descending mothership. Wingman One prepared himself for the end.
**********
On the Mesaliko Reservation below, no one was yet aware of the arriving ship. Though the sun appeared to have momentarily gone behind a cloud, the day was still relatively bright… except for the smoke rising from a number of burning homes.
Inside one home that was not yet burning, fifteen people who definitely did not want to be there at this moment were struggling to get free of the bonds that tightly bound them. They had awakened minutes before on the floor of the home, their hands and feet securely bound, after having been knocked out by some kind of gas Culpepper had used on them. Max and Michael's hands had been wrapped with numerous layers of tape in addition to being tied up. This had been very effective, so far, at keeping them from using their powers to free themselves.
Michael had managed to chew through some of the fiberglass tape on his hands, but it had taken time… too much time… and there was a long way to go before he would have enough of it off to use his powers again. Meanwhile, Amy was memorizing and reciting a list of all the things she planned to do to Culpepper when she saw him again… none of them very pleasant. It never crossed her mind that she might never have that opportunity… or if it did, she refused to allow that possibility to have any place in her conscious mind. To Amy's mind, justice was just a matter of "when," not "if."
Had Max or the others been able to see outside, they might have seen the approaching Cobra helicopter that Culpepper had called to finish the job. Max had already noticed the sound of the whirring blades in the distance, but he said nothing. If anyone else noticed, no one else said anything either. There was nothing to be said. They just worked all the harder to get free. If they could manage that, they might, just might, have a chance… maybe not a good one… but a chance nevertheless.
On a nearby hilltop, Culpepper's walkie talkie suddenly came alive…
"This is Cobra Nine. Missile 1 is ready. Waiting for your orders, sir."
"Fire, Cobra Nine! Just do it!"
"Roger that, Culpepper. Cobra Nine Out."
After a moment, the Cobra pilot's voice came back… "Firing 1…" There was a distinct pause, as Cobra Nine hesitated, rubbed his eyes and shook his head, then looked out his windshield again.
"Uh… Cobra Nine here… Hold on a minute… There's a… WHAT THE…!"
The Cobra pilot shook his head as though to clear it. Surely he had not seen what he thought he had seen. A huge bird had appeared out of nowhere, flying straight at his helicopter on a collision course. Cobra Nine jerked his stick to the right, taking the helicopter into a corkscrew loop. Then he straightened out again…
"What's happening, Cobra Nine," Culpepper asked, disturbed that he had not yet seen the explosion he desired and curious about Cobra Nine's unexplained aerobatics.
"Something almost flew into me," Cobra Nine said after a minute.
"You're the only chopper in the area, Cobra Nine. And I don't see any jets near you."
"Negative." Cobra Nine's voice said, sounding strangely quaky.
"Well, what was it then?"
Cobra Nine decided to keep what he THOUGHT he had seen to himself… at least for now. In his experience, pilots who had reported unusual sightings had often been grounded and sent to the base psychologist for extensive testing. Most had come back saying that they hadn't actually seen anything unusual after all and it had just been sun spots. Those who persisted in the belief that it had been anything else never flew again.
"Sun spots," Cobra Nine said after a few moments. "It was just sun spots."
"Sun spots?" Culpepper asked, somewhat doubtful. "The sun seems to have gone behind a big cloud, Cobra Nine."
"Well, up here, there are sun spots, sir," the pilot insisted.
"Never mind, Cobra Nine. Just blow that house blown up… NOW! Carry out orders!"
"Yes, sir!"
Cobra Nine circled around and headed back toward the home. Once he had lined up his target again, he flipped a switch and spoke into his helmet mike…
"Missile 1 is armed… Firing!" Cobra Nine reached up to flip a second switch that would fire the first of the four missiles, but just as suddenly, the huge bird reappeared in front of him. Cobra Nine closed his eyes and opened them again. It was still there… and heading right at him. In a near panic, he took his helicopter over into a sharp dive to avoid colliding with the giant raptor, which had an almost unbelievable wingspan. Cobra Nine guessed it to be 65 feet from wingtip to wingtip. He was not off by much.
Leveling off after his hastily executed rollover and dive, Cobra Nine looked out his windshield, searching the sky in every direction for the impossible bird. Then he spotted it. Out of nowhere, it dived at his helicopter, its huge claws extended in his direction. Cobra Nine instantly knew that this giant, eagle-like raptor, with its giant talons, could easily tear his helicopter apart or grab and hold onto it… and it might even be able to carry it away. If he allowed this bird to get its talons on his helicopter, the outcome would clearly be devastating.
Already flying too low, Cobra Nine rolled over and tried to dive again, this time plowing his helicopter right into the ground. The pre-armed missile flew off, traveling along the ground toward the house. Clipping a tree along the way, the missile went into a spin then headed back toward the helicopter. The pilot of Cobra One, seeing the missile coming, bailed out of his downed helicopter and ran, trying to put as much distance between himself and the helicopter as he could. Ultimately, the missile missed the helicopter, streaked through the underbrush and trees and ended up in the nearby river. Moments later, there was a tremendous explosion beneath the water of the river. When the dust had finally cleared and the rain of fish, pieces of fish, and river water had all ceased to fall, the Cobra lay on its side, all its rotors bent or broken and its body severely damaged. It would not likely be taking off again any time soon, if ever.
Culpepper had watched Cobra Nine dive and level off then dive again and crash in a cloud of dust. He wanted to curse the pilot of the downed helicopter, but at the moment he was too stunned. Culpepper had not seen the jah-ee. Only the pilot of Cobra One had been able to see the huge Antarian bird. But the crash absolutely baffled Culpepper. The pilot of Cobra One was one of the best they had… and yet… he was flying as though he had lost his mind. It was inexplicable and utterly baffling.
Culpepper would soon understand, though.
Maybe it was a flicker perceived from the corner of his eye… Maybe it was just a feeling… but something made Culpepper look up again at that moment. He saw the huge bird descending toward him, its talons extended, and the blood all rushed out of his face. Falling to the ground, Culpepper rolled down the hill, stopping only when he rolled into a large prickly bush about half way down. The thorns hurt, but Culpepper barely noticed. Crawling as far under the bush as he could get, he scanned the sky for the huge bird of prey. It seemed to have disappeared. Culpepper looked for his two-way radio/walkie-talkie. He had dropped it during his roll down the hill. He would have to come out from under the bush to retrieve it. The thought of coming out made him shiver involuntarily, but after several minutes without seeing the huge eagle-like bird again, Culpepper cautiously extracted himself from beneath the bush. Still seeing no bird, he ran quickly up the hill to where his two-way radio lay and hastily made a call…
"Culpepper here… Come in Cobra Leader."
"This is Cobra Leader. What's happening there, Culpepper? Did Cobra Nine give you the fireworks you wanted?"
"Negative," Culpepper said simply, not expounding on the reasons or causes.
"Negative?"
"That's what I said… Negative! I need another pilot."
There was a short pause. "Where is Cobra Nine?"
"Crashed."
There was another pause. "Do you need emergency vehicles?"
"Negative," Culpepper responded again. "Cobra Nine is okay…" ("For now," he mumbled under his breath, beginning to blame Cobra Nine for not disposing of the huge bird before it had had a chance to attack him.)
"All right," Cobra Leader replied hesitantly. "I'll send Cobra Two. ETA in seven minutes."
"Roger that," Culpepper responded. "Put a rush on it."
There was no answer.
Culpepper breathed a deep sigh and scanned the sky again… looking for the jah-ee. He realized that he was still shivering somewhat.
Inside the house, meanwhile, Max and Michael were making the most of their reprieve. Michael had managed to chew through the fiberglass tape that his hands were wrapped in and had helped Max to finish getting the tape off of his hands. Then the two of them had untied themselves and the others.
Liz hugged Max. "Max, what are we going to do? We need to get out of here, but if we try to run, they'll see us… and they'll shoot us on sight… especially with you having to carry me."
Max swallowed. Liz was right. They were free of their ropes and tape, and still, tied up or not, there was nowhere they could escape to. Yet as long as they were in that house, they were still condemned prisoners… merely waiting for their execution to take place.
"We need to make a run for it," Michael said, preferring to die fighting than to sit there and perish without a fight. "We can hold some of them off for a while."
"But we'll still all die, right?" Alex asked.
Michael nodded solemnly.
"Okay… just checking," Alex said.
"There's got to be something we can do," Amy said hopefully. "It can't just end like this."
Jim put his arm around her. "Sorry Amy. I didn't mean to get you into this mess."
"Oh stow it, Jim!" Amy shot back, perhaps a little more feistily than even she had meant to. "You didn't get me into anything. I've been in this from the beginning. I'm not letting any two-bit tyrant or his army hurt my daughter! Not after I just got her back!"
Jim grinned and nodded. Amy wiped her eye and took a deep breath, then she gave Jim a peck on the cheek. "I didn't mean that like it sounded, Jim."
"Sure you did," Jim said. "And I wouldn't have it any other way. If we had a dozen or so of you, we could probably take that army out there."
Amy laughed.
"That could be arranged," a voice from the back door said.
Jim spun around and looked to see who had spoken, but he already knew by the voice. His mind just refused to believe it.
"A'in Ji Lii!" Gray Hawk cried out, running to the girl to check her out, as Kyle, Isabel, and the others crowded around her to convince themselves that she was actually there. "Are you… are you…"
"Alive? Yeah…" Angie Lee replied with a smile, hugging Gray Hawk. Then she walked over to Maria and hugged her. "I don't know what kind of power you've got there, Maria, but thanks."
"Thank Max… I think…" Maria said. "He's the one who has the power. I just seem to be able to draw on it somehow when someone… someone… I care about is hurt bad enough."
Angie Lee looked at Max, and Max shrugged. "I think Rahn called it sourcing or something like that. The human mind has the same abilities the Antarian mind has… Humans just haven't learned to use but a small percentage of theirs."
"Did you know about this," Kyle asked Max.
"You mean did I know that Maria healed Angie Lee? I felt her drawing on my powers. I hoped… I couldn't do anything myself without them knowing what was happening, but Maria could. I had to hope that it would be enough."
"Did you know she was alive," Kyle asked, turning to Maria. "Why the hell didn't you tell us? Why didn't you tell me?"
"I wasn't sure," Maria said. "I saw the wound close up and the bleeding stop, but she still looked dead."
"That was a mind trick," Angie Lee said. "I didn't want to get shot again, so I made it look like I was dead." Angie Lee turned to Max… "Is that common… on Antar?"
"Sourcing?" Max shook his head. "No. It's a rare ability, even on Antar, according to Rahn. We don't know why Maria is able to do it."
Angie Lee smiled again. "Well… thank you… both of you. Now let's see what we can do about getting you… us… out of here before that helicopter comes with more missiles."
"How did you get in here, Angie Lee," Isabel asked.
"I just made them not see me… I walked right in."
"Can you make us all invisible," Alex asked.
"I'm not sure how long I can hold it… completely," Angie Lee said hesitantly. "But I'm going to try."
"That's good enough for me," Michael said. "Unless anybody's got a better idea, let's get out of this house… quick! Like she said… time is short. Move, people!"
Angie Lee concentrated, and everyone began to disappear.
"Couldn't you still let us see each other," Alex asked, grasping for Isabel to make sure she was still there and safe.
"Sorry." Angie Lee shook her head, though no one could see this by now. "It's a blanket mind warp. It will affect them and us until I remove it. It's the best I can do. Hold on to each other."
Angie Lee reached out for a hand. She couldn't see whose hand she was holding, but she knew… and she smiled.
As the group ran for the door, a missile streaked across the Reservation…
It took a scant three seconds to reach the house. Splinters, pieces of wood, and flames rose high into the sky above. In the intense light of the explosion, Max and Michael saw each other. Then, for a split second, everyone became visible again. Max thought to himself, "This must be what being in a nuclear explosion is like." For the briefest of moments, they felt the heat… intense heat… and intense light… then nothing at all…
The destruction was total. Seconds after the first missile hit, a second missile slammed into what little was left of the foundation, and that missile was followed closely by two more missiles. There was little additional damage the three extra missiles could do. The small wood home, as well as three homes on either side of it, had been completely and totally destroyed by the first missile. But the four missiles together did provide an amazing display… a display that lit up the sky for easily fifty miles around. Smoke rose high into the sky, and pieces of the houses fell as far away as five miles outside the Reservation. Culpepper could not have been more delighted.
tbc
Coming up: Follow The Phoenix