First Contact (part 7)

Earth's first encounter with extraterrestrial life is not what anyone expected.

Photo by Gianluca Carenza on Unsplash

— continued from part six — (or start with part one here)

Kaskahn and Ayalana’s ship came to a sliding stop, its landing gears skidding in Antarctica’s snow.

“The amulet’s beacon leads here,” Kaskahn reported.

A short distance away, a bunker door protruded from the snow, just barely visible in the white landscape.

“There,” General Jenkins said pointing, wasting no time walking down the ship’s ramp and into the bitter cold.

Jenkins, Wilcox and Patrick led the way down a long flight of stairs, with Kaskahn and Ayalana following closely behind. Finally, the team came to large, round, underground room with concrete walls and dim halogen lights.

“There’s no one here,” Patrick said.

Just as the words escaped his lips, a sinister laugh echoed through the room.

“No one?” the voice said. “On the contrary, I am everyone.”

A small man in a flowing white robe stepped into view. His large, bald head wore a golden crown that matched the trim around his robe.

“Doctor Monorocco?” Ayalana blurted in a shocked outburst. “That’s impossible!”

“None other,” the man replied, clapping slowly with a disturbing smile.

“You know this man?” Jenkins asked, his hand over the holster of his sidearm. “Is this the successor you were looking for?”

Ayalana and Kaskahn froze in stunned silence.

“How I’ve missed you two, all these years,” Doctor Monorocco said. “Go ahead, Ayalana. You’ve never been at a loss for words. Tell everyone who I am.”

Doctor Monorocco stepped closer.

“You’re—” Ayalana began.

“… the one who holds the amulet,” Monorocco finished her sentence, nodding his head profusely.

“You’re—” Ayalana said again.

“… the master of knowledge itself? You’re on a roll! Yes, go on!” Monorocco said, taunting Ayalana as she tried to speak.

Patrick stepped forward and gently placed his hand on Ayalana’s shoulder. “What are you trying to say,” he said. “Who is he?”

“Doctor Monorocco was the scientist who sent us on our mission,” Ayalana said, the anger mounting in her voice. “He built our ship. He planned our mission. We trusted him.”

“And he betrayed us!” Kaskahn said, turning to Monorocco. “You were our friend!”

“Yes, and now I control the world,” Doctor Monorocco laughed again.

“But that’s impossible! How are you still alive?” Kaskahn asked.

“You were always the naive one, Kaskahn. You see, the one who holds the amulet controls knowledge itself,” Monorocco said. “Even the knowledge of immortality.”

“You sent us to discover knowledge,” Ayalana said, taking a step forward. “Just so you could use it for your own gain?”

Monorocco arched his back and uttered a strong belly laugh. “And you both fell right into my trap,” he said, rubbing his hands together. “You made it far too easy! And for that, I am truly grateful.”

Jenkins sighed. “I’ve heard enough,” he said, aiming his weapon at Monorocco. “This ends now. I want my team and I want that amulet.”

“Slow down, General Jenkins. You wouldn’t hurt an old friend now would you?” Doctor Monorocco asked, his arms extended in front of him.

“I’m not your friend,” Jenkins replied, his weapon still locked onto Monorocco. “Your history is with them, not me.” He nodded towards Kaskahn and Ayalana. “I can’t speak for them, but I won’t hesitate to hurt you. Now, where’s my team?”

In an instant, and seemingly out of nowhere, soldiers, their guns raised, circled the group. Jenkins, surrounded, looked side to side to assess the situation.

Doctor Monorocco laughed. “I’m offended that you don’t remember me, General. We go way back, you and I. Though, of course, you wouldn’t know me as Doctor Monorocco. To you, I’m simply known as “The Top.”

Major Wilcox shot a glance at Jenkins.

The anger grew within the general. He looked from side to side, surrounded by Monorocco’s soldiers.

But as Jenkins looked more closely at the soldiers, his anger grew even stronger. Their faces looked familiar. The insignias on their uniforms — American flags. Name tags displayed names he knew — Williams, McAllister, Thompson. These were not Monorocco’s soldiers. They were General Jenkins’s own special forces team aiming their weapons at him.

“You said you wanted your team,” Monorocco said with a sinister smile. “Here they are, General.”

Jenkins froze, defeated. His own team had turned against him with Monorocco’s mind control.

Kaskahn, however, didn’t freeze. He acted quickly, adjusting some of the controls on the apparatus attached to his suit. He shouted something — an unrecognizable word — then motioned for his friends as he darted towards the stairs.

Chaos ensued.

Ayalana, Jenkins, Wilcox, and Patrick all followed Kaskahn while the mind-controlled soldiers scrambled and shouted strange words at each other.

Monorocco uttered something loudly, his face clearly angry but his words nonsense. One of the soldiers blabbered something strange in return. Monorocco pointed at Kaskahn as if trying to tell the soldiers to stop him, but the words coming from his mouth were gibberish. Each soldier had a confused look, looking this way and that, while Kahkahn and his friends escaped back up the stairs and into their ship.

“What the blazes happened down there? How were we able to escape?” Jenkins asked, buckling himself in as Kaskahn fired up the engines.

“I used the linguistic interpolator to scramble their language,” Kazkahn said as the ship ascended and the others settled into their seats.

Jenkins smiled slightly, impressed. “Well done,” he said. “But now what? We may have escaped but my team’s still down there.”

“I have a plan,” Kaskahn said. “But we have to get back to the wayfinder.”

— to be continued —

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Von, who manages Sci-Friday on SciFiction Christian husband, grandfather, anti-gnostic, theonomist. I love writing Christian fiction, theology, and about politics. I post memes about Christian living. I love doing letter exchanges. Soli Deo Gloria.

Mookie Spitz Where life, the universe, and everything get my damn opinion! Subscribe to get daily video rants, posts, and podcasts on politics, art, culture, relationships, science, and more! Author of JONNIE FAZOOLIE & THE TRANSFINITE REALITY ENGINE.