Christopher Nuttall: The Trojan Horse

McGreevy, moving with surprising speed, jumped out of the hatch and started to run. Toby watched as she fled towards the aliens, half-expecting to see a bullet crack into her back. Instead, one of the aliens lifted his weapon and snapped off a shot at her. Her body glowed green for a second, and then she collapsed on the ground, dead. The alien ran over her body and kept moving. They hadn’t known who was running towards them — and probably wouldn’t have cared if they had. She’d definitely outlived her usefulness.

“Hey, kid,” a voice said. Toby started, and then saw Harry Garland, one of his father’s younger friends. “Not too bad, eh?”

He passed Toby a pistol and motioned for him to prepare to fight. “Time to start falling back, kid,” he added. “One way or another, we’ve done all we can here.”

The Colonel cursed as he felt the gravity shifting around him. He dropped to the deck as the pressure grew stronger, just before it ebbed to almost nothing. Instead, he felt vaguely dizzy, as if something was badly wrong with his inner ear. The defector seemed to be unaffected, but it was clear that the rest of his troops were feeling the same effect. It had to be an effect of the craft’s drive, he told himself. Any human spacecraft travelling at such speed would have left them feeling squashed as long as the rocket was firing.

He pulled himself to his feet, feeling oddly as if his body was drunk, and settled down next to the defector. Outside, the sky was dimming to black and all the stars were coming out. He looked out of the viewport and down towards Earth. It spun in the inky blackness of space, seemingly unaffected by the billions of humans — and Snakes — who dwelled on its surface. The Colonel had almost walked away from religion after Mary had died, but looking down on Earth, he knew there was a God. Someone had created the Earth, and the human race, and the Snakes. There was an entire universe just waiting for humanity to explore. But then, God helped those who helped themselves. If the human race didn’t prove itself worthy of survival…

“That’s it,” the alien defector said. “That’s the warship.”

It came into view slowly, illuminated only by the reflected light from Earth. Unlike some of the science-fiction ships he’d seen on television, it was a blocky shape, clearly military in design. It’s hull was studded with blisters he suspected were weapons, moving around in seemingly random patterns. It was larger than a battleship, larger than an aircraft carrier… far larger than anything humanity had ever put in space. The Colonel found himself speechless as it grew and grew. How could they hope to defeat the beings who had created such ships while humanity struggled to put a single rocket into space? Maybe they were doomed after all.

“Take us in towards it,” the Colonel ordered. “We need to dock with them.”

He shared a long glance with his men. No words were needed. They all knew what had to be done. The Colonel pulled off his rucksack and opened it, revealing the device hidden inside. It had taken days of careful work to remove the PAL and prepare the nuke to detonate on command, but it had worked — he hoped. A great deal of ingenuity had gone into creating devices that would prevent nukes falling into the wrong hands and bypassing them was tricky. It certainly wasn’t intended to be easy.

A hissing sound filled the cabin. “They’re demanding explanations,” the defector said. “One moment…”

He produced a second set of hissing sounds. The Colonel shivered, remembering — once again — why humans had termed the aliens Snakes. There was something utterly inhuman about their speech, something that sent a chill down their spine. Mr. Spock and Chewbacca had been barely distinguishable from humans, at least when compared to the Snakes. And it worried him that he had no way of knowing what they were saying to each other. The defector might have had a change of heart. Not for the first time, he cursed the lack of any independent verification.

“They’re ordering us to dock, but not to enter the ship,” the defector said. “Apparently there was some kind of contamination down below and they’re worried about it spreading into the warship.”

The Colonel exchanged glances with his men. Contamination? “Can they pick up human life signs in this craft?”

“I don’t think so,” the defector said. His raspy voice was difficult to understand — or pick out emotion — but the Colonel suspected that he was worried. “They don’t seem to be suspicious of us personally…”

The Colonel nodded. “Take us in to dock,” he ordered. Inside his bag, the nuke was ready to detonate. “Hurry.”

He watched as the alien warship became a wall stretching across the sky, until its immensity swallowed up everything else. It was huge; every time he thought he comprehended the vast scale of the craft, he saw something to throw his mind back into a spin. The weapons blisters were larger than the space shuttle, prepared for a war against aliens with comparable technology. It still struck him as odd that the aliens hadn’t armed their freighters and transports, but perhaps it made a certain kind of sense. They wouldn’t want to run the risk of rebellion in their ranks. And they did have enemies within. The Pacifists seemed more than willing to fight, despite their name. They just needed a chance to actually take on the Emperor and win.

The dull thud caught him by surprise. “We have docked,” the defector announced. There was a pause as more hissing filled the cabin. “They’re sending an inspection party…”

Behind him, the hatch started to hiss open. The Colonel rammed his finger down onto the nuke and pressed the button, holding it down. A moment later, the hatch opened, revealing a team of alien soldiers. They stared at the humans, shocked beyond words. The Colonel understood how they felt. He wouldn’t have expected to encounter humans on an alien shuttle either. And he’d always known that it would be a one-way trip.

The Colonel smiled and let go of the button.

Toby saw the flash of white light from high above as the remains of the assault group retreated from Andrews AFB. The nuke had detonated, he knew; the Colonel, his father, had taken it along as a last resort. If they failed to take the alien warship, they’d blow it up. God alone knew what had happened in those last few moments, but the aliens had just lost their commander and their biggest stick.

He pulled himself away from his escort and stared towards the Snakes. They looked… stunned, exchanging glances and hisses with one another. It was easy, for once, to read their faces. All of a sudden, the threat of massive reprisals wouldn’t be enough to save their scaly butts… and their collaborators had turned on them. Or so they thought. Toby realised that there would never be a better opportunity to take them alive.

“Hold fire,” he bellowed. He had no authority to command his father’s troops, but they obeyed, a handful of NCOs passing on the command. “Surrender!”

He walked towards the aliens, feeling his heart trying to climb into his mouth. If they opened fire, even a blind man couldn’t have missed him at such a range. The aliens looked up at him, but did nothing. Toby said a silent prayer under his breath and stopped, bare metres from the aliens.

“Your warship is gone,” he said, flatly. What if their voders had failed? They wouldn’t be able to understand him, let alone answer. “Surrender now and we’ll treat you well.”

There was a long pause, and then the lead alien threw his gun to the ground. The others followed suit, seconds later. Toby let out a long breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding and waved the soldiers forward. The alien prisoners were surrounded, their weapons were taken and they were marched off to a makeshift detention facility. No pod people were left alive, but a handful of collaborators were captured and added to the haul. Toby allowed himself a sigh of relief and headed off towards the vehicles. Someone had to return to the White House and liberate it from the aliens and their collaborators.