Twenty
Overhead
In the Grugell scout ship, Apportamattid shouted in triumph, pounding the pilot on the shoulder. He leaned forward over the pilot’s head as he sat in the control station, shouting, “There they are! There’s the Commander! Dive, dive on them, get them!”
The pilot, startled by the sudden outburst, could only reply, “As you command, sir!” and then he dove his screaming scout ship directly at the fleeing fugitives.
Apportamattid had seen his main chance with the Commander’s disappearance, obviously as a captive of the humans. With Clomonastik dead or disgraced by capture and rescue, his second-in-command would be well placed to take over the Occupation, and the eventual Governorship. Either way, Apportamattid saw a promotion coming, and revenge on the creature responsible for the painful knot on his forehead in the bargain. And so he’d taken only one pilot and a squad of troops commanded by a leader he trusted, and informed no one else in the camp of the events of the previous night. The morning was shaping up remarkably well.
On the ground
Mike sped the craft back the way they’d came, as Jenny and Clomonastik held on for their lives. A bolt of green fire blasted out from the ship pursuing them. Some instinct forced Mike to dodge to the left, to the right, and to the left again. The first green bolt exploded harmlessly to one side, followed by two more. Showers of dirt and rock rained down on the craft. Mike made for the northern tree line, but the sight of a huge overhanging pine stopped him. Yes, he thought, it just might work. If it doesn’t, we’re no worse off. He angled the platform directly for the pine, holding the throttle open wide. Behind them, the silver spider-ship dropped lower, picking up speed, gaining on them rapidly.
Immediately behind
“Hit them! Ram them! Crush them against the ground!” Apportamattid was shouting at the scout ship pilot. The pilot was shocked, but he had no choice but to comply. Grugell discipline was harsh and unforgiving.
On the ground
Mike side-slipped again, dodging from side to side. The ship had stopped shooting at them, but it was gaining at an alarming rate. Mike stole a glance over his shoulder, and then ahead, figuring angles and speeds. Going to be close, he predicted. Ahead, the roc’s giant, eagle-like head raised slowly, eyes open and slowly, sleepily focusing on the approaching objects–one small and closing fast, another, much larger one just behind. Startled, it clambered to its feet, shaking its head threateningly and screeching a warning.
“MIKE!” Jenny screamed at the sight of the roc.
“I KNOW, BABY, JUST HANG ON!” he roared back, driving directly at the great predator.
Clomonastik clung to the railing in panic. Was this human intending to kill them all?
Behind them the spider-ship dropped lower, until its main central pod was ripping the tops of the ferns. A squad of troops in the passenger compartment waited for orders, but in the meantime, they had no view out the front port. Both Apportamattid and the pilot were focused on the fleeing scooter, until a movement caught the pilot’s eye, something impossibly huge was towering up, actually above them, as they drove towards the trees…
Mike yanked the t-handle this way and that, slipping the platform between the roc’s legs, dodging through and out, and back into the trees even as the great beak snapped downwards at them, missing Mike’s head by centimeters. The great bird-thing turned its attention forward again, the larger threat was screaming in on its nest now.
The pilot screamed. It was too late to turn, too late to stop. They were going to hit the unspeakable monster. Belatedly, Apportamattid looked up, and saw Death approaching. He was, for once, speechless, managing only to mutter a single Grugell obscenity.
The roc roared in rage, leaping forward, grabbing one of the thin silver spider legs in its great beak. The strut severed as the predator’s razor-keen beak sheared through the metal. Out of control, the scout ship slammed into the ferns. The roc screeched as it leaped again, landing on two of the remaining struts, snapping them off. She slammed one meter-wide, taloned foot down on the central orb and used her beak to rip a long strip of metal clear, exposing the passenger compartment and cockpit below.
Fifty meters into the trees Mike slowed the platform to a stop. They watched as the roc proceeded to rip the ship apart. At intervals the giant bird would extract a screaming, stick-thin figure from the wreckage, tossing them into the air or slamming them against the ground before gulping them down whole. Clomonastik clung to the railing, weak-kneed from pain and fright. The rocs’ giant beak had ripped one sleeve off of his uniform jacket as they’d passed underneath, and the pain started to hit him now as the black blood flowed from a ten-centimeter gash on his shoulder.
Jenny noticed the wound and reached for her daypack. “Mike, get us out of here,” she called. Spinning the platform around again, he aimed them south through the trees. Jenny motioned for Clomonastik to sit down, her earlier animosity largely forgotten now as she extracted her first-aid kit and began to clean and bandage Clomonastik’s wound.
This last act shattered Clomonastik as none of the previous two day’s events had. I ordered these hu-mans captured or killed, he thought. I was going to order this Jennycrider killed once I’d had a chance to question her. Were they prisoners on a Grugell mission, they’d be shot and discarded the moment they became a liability, but not only have they kept me alive, they’ve given me a water bottle and now the female cares for my wound?
What manner of creatures are these? Jenny answered the question for him, even though the alien didn’t understand her words. “This, Clomonastik,” she informed him wryly, “is what being human is all about.” The alien cocked his head at her, wincing as she dabbed antiseptic on the gash. Jenny couldn’t help thinking he’d somehow gotten the gist of the statement. At the controls, Mike glanced back once, then turned his attention back to the woods ahead, smiling.
To see more of Animal’s writing, visit his page at Crimson Dragon Publishing or Amazon.
Exciting!
Nice house
Half of a million for that? On a quarter acre?
I will have to get back to you on that.
It would be a lot more in the TC. Closer to 700,000.
I have a nicer more-house on 11 wooded acres with 700 feet of waterfront and complete privacy. We paid just shy of 200 for it. 1500/yr property tax.
But that location doesn’t allow for college girls to be walking by all day, does it?
I like the light fixtures.
Also, the 1950s called…
Oh joy – mid century modern.
If you do not fully and unironically love that bathroom – I have to question the existence of your soul…
The one painted with Pesto-bismol?
Sorry, sheldon, but the cotton-candy pink tile and avocado green tub just don’t do it.
And my soul is just fine, thank you.
I understand the aesthetic appeal, but it’s not to my tastes. Interior decorations, my tastes run much more modern (steel, glass, and stark contrasts).
Those things are changeable. A lot of homes are bought and immediately updated to the new owner’s tastes.
Which one? The Barbie one or the county lockup one?
House is in rough shape. Very institutional feel inside.
I would live there. Happily.
And Sheldon is absolutely right about that bathroom.
Given the polarizing responses I expected something less… ordinary.
Though the sheer number of windows must make it a bitch to heat and cool properly.
That second bath looks like it should be in a gym or next to a door leading to a Finnish home sauna.
In photos #27 and #28: What the fuck is that, a jury box??
Stairway heading to the basement.
Actually, stairwell between 1st and 2nd floors.
That is a nice house. Doesn’t look like 4200 square feet, but I’l take their word for it. Honestly, the price doesn’t offend.
Pick a style, why don’t you. Downstairs is different from upstairs is different from kitchen.
I’d call that bathroom “blush” more than cotton candy or Pepto. At least, I’ve seen more virulent shades of pink in bathrooms.
I see they cleverly avoided installing baseboards by going with baseboard heating. Hey, how do you think that’s going to work out in Idaho?
Fireplace surround: “I’d like to do a classy paneled surround.” Contractor: glues some plywood to the wall. “Done!”
The stairs to the second floor …. actually look pretty good.
Remodeling room by room as they could afford it? It’s what my parents did after paying off the mortgage.
The remodel never got finished either, as two rooms still had carpet when it came time to sell.
And one of the bathrooms still had the original linoleum and vanity. In avocado green. The toilet had been replaced some years earlier.
It would appear the stick people evolved without any serious competition outside their own species.
You dare question Grugell superiority?
Having bested and interbred with a fair number of our cousins gives us an edge. Something that has always struck me about monster fantasies….people always win. We win not because justice rules the universe but because we are scarier than the ‘monsters’. We scare our children by telling stories about lots of different kinds of monsters….they all scare their children by telling stories about one; us.
Imagine never having been a prey species during your evolution.
Evolution would be a cul-de-sac in that case; sharks have been the top of the fish food chain for more than 400 million years. Only environmental changes have modified which shark was at the very top.
Half of a million for that? On a quarter acre?
Why would a college administrator need more than 1/4 acre? It’s right across the street from ISU.
Seems to me like a pretty far way from Ames.
You’re right, they don’t need that much space. Nobody associated with the University should be allowed to buy it.
Oh joy – mid century modern.
I’d say more Prairie Style. What are you looking for? Bauhaus?
For me a lair like this – https://wallup.net/wp-content/uploads/2019/09/892974-slovenia-castles-crag-castell-de-predjama-cities.jpg
I believe it is called Prairie Modern. Not too different than a FLW prairie cruciform.
Barn find of the day
https://barnfinds.com/302-v8-ragtop-project-1966-ford-mustang/?utm_campaign=Newsletter&utm_medium=email&utm_source=Newsletter+(Daily)
I love it. That interior has to be flushed an 90% replaced before I’d drive it. Mouse dropping central.
Also you wanted an email address the other night and I was no longer around. Here you go:
BrusselsSproutHead@proton.me
Message sent!
Barn find of the day
OMFG wrong motor! It’s worthless.
Mike’s racking up quite the body count.
Aliens only count as 3/5 of a body for counting purposes.
I didn’t think there were that many people in North Dakota to kill.
The Grugell appear to have a technology advantage over the humans in some respects. Beam weapons and possibly propulsion. They also suffer from a smug superiority complex.
“Mike yanked the t-handle this way and that, slipping the platform between the roc’s legs, dodging through and out, and back into the trees even as the great beak snapped downwards at them, missing Mike’s head by centimeters”
I was hoping that Mike wasn’t going to run into some Roc dangle on the way under and past.
Old cars? What about old computers?
https://www.tomshardware.com/video-games/retro-gaming/the-commodore-64-ultimate-computer-is-the-companys-first-hardware-release-in-over-30-years-pre-orders-start-at-usd299
Commodore has been out of business for decades – who are these charlatans who’ve wrangled the rights to the trademark?
https://www.tomshardware.com/video-games/retro-gaming/commodore-acquired-for-a-low-seven-figure-price-new-acting-ceo-comes-from-the-retro-community
Some of them are OGs.
$299 seems like a good deal.
I definitely don’t have $299 lying around. I really wish I did though, that looks awesome.
I honestly can’t remember which C64 games I liked, other than one of the text-based adventure games where the opposite of “light” was “unlight.”
Not “heavy?”
Sword of Fargoal?
Impossible Mission?
I remember tons of games. Most of them were pirated (“Cracked by Bluebeard”) so if it was an adventure game, you couldn’t get past the last level.
You unlight down my life.
Impossible Mission, Realm of Impossibility, Summer Games, Summer Games 2, Winter Games, California Games, Bruce Lee, Karateka.
The torch would eventually burn out, so you’d have to unlight it between uses.
The description of the first room has a message scrawled onto the wall saying “THE OPPOSITE OF LIGHT IS UNLIGHT”
This was when text parsers had very few words in them, so they couldn’t put “extinguish” or “douse” in their lexicon apparently.
I remember a lot more TI-99/4A games.
I remember Hunt the Wumpus.
Unskinny.
Why not emulate?… I’ve done that with the Apple ][ systems.. why do you need hardware?..
Hunt the wumpus was a CP/M mainframe/ basic game much earlier than the C64. Along with star trek. This is going back to the punch paper tape era.
I remember Archon being one of the big C64 games. That 1200 baud floppy drive.. slow.
This story is heating up!
Will Jenny win over the Grugells with her charm?
Will Mike smash them all into a black pulp?
Will we get a crossover sex scene with one of Mojeaux’s or UCS’ characters?
As long as it isn’t a Hat & Hair crossover sex scene.
The leader of the Grugell could turn out to be Space Hat….
Or SPACE SMITH.