Morning had broken about an hour before I felt the truck slowing. It came to a complete stop for a moment, then I was tossed about as it apparently took several tight turns.
We cruised along for a few more minutes before we stopped again, the cry of air and squeaking metal sounding out as the driver set the parking brakes.
The creature with which I was riding had been stirring a bit more -- its breathing was more rapid, and the spasms that sent its appendages crashing against the walls had increased in frequency.
Big Red's engine sounded angry; it was idling a bit rough as I heard her driver's door slam closed. I pressed my ear against the drain hole, trying to hear any conversation that might be taking place outside of the truck.
"Hurry, or we'll miss the launch window!" A muffled voice said. "What took so damned long, anyway?"
"Your momma wouldn't let me leave!" I heard Hughes return. "Just tell The Count that we're here -- then open this door so I can pull inside!"
A heavy rattling accompanied by a low hum started up, sounding like a giant garage door in the process of being lifted mechanically. Moments later, the truck was moving again. Judging by what I could see, it was being guided into some building with a painted concrete floor. The brakes were set again and the rattling started once more, the room growing considerably darker when it stopped.
"Where is he?" The distinctly southern voice of Misses Jan asked in a less than warm tone. It was obvious that it was her; but I'd never heard he speak this way before. She sounded angry -- in all my life, I'd never known her to get angry.
"In the back." Hughes returned. "Damn nightlight he had in there knocked out my contact!"
"It doesn't matter, he would've figured it out sooner or later anyhow. Get him out of there -- tie his ass up and put him the cockpit. We need to get the Tal-Gashot into the cargo bay so we can get the crawlers on the way to the pad. These stone-age transporters only go one mile-per-hour for Thig's sake! It'll take us almost five hours to get it in position!"
There was rustling, then blinding light filled my little world. I put my hand over my eyes to shield them from the sudden flash, but my wrist was quickly snatched by one of two purple-eyed thugs who yanked me unceremoniously out of the trailer. Before I knew what was going on, they had bound my wrists behind my back with duct tape wrapped around several times. They pulled me up to my feet by the tape, then started wrapping my ankles.
"Misses Jan?" I shouted to my friend, getting a glance of the woman in her purple-eyed state for the very first time. Seeing strangers under the control of The Phloxans was one thing; seeing someone who I knew and loved was all together different.
"No!" She snapped, staring back at me coldly. "I am Count Zeenadi, human! You may not address me, however, so please hold still while they tape your mouth!"
At her order, the men did just that -- tightly. I looked around at my surroundings; a massive warehouse-like space with large pieces of machinery strewn about. Words painted on the wall identified the place as Vehicle Assembly Building -- a NASA logo and American flag beside it.
Janet marched off towards a rolling staircase and climbed to the top of what appeared to be a space shuttle laid flat on a pair of giant platforms with several sets of tank-like tracks underneath. This craft didn't look like what I'm used to seeing in televised launches; it looked much more sleek and futuristic -- not to mention massive. She barked off orders to other possessed individuals, sending them scurrying about the place, tinkering with the craft and various computer terminals.
Hughes was with a group of several of them, examining the creature in the back of my trailer. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw his gun sticking up out of his belt at the side of his pants.
Jesus, I thought -- this could be my chance!
Not thinking far beyond grabbing hold of it, I shuffled backwards, towards him a bit, hoping that he wouldn't notice. He didn't, and suddenly I found my strapped hands just inches from his piece.
Trying to harness my racing thoughts, I considered my next move carefully... I could grab it, but my aim wouldn't be worth a shit considering I'd have to fire with my wrists taped behind my back. I couldn't exactly run with it either, since my ankles were bound as well.
Even if I could get a shot off, what would I target? There were rockets strapped to the underside of the space craft... rupturing one of them would surely cause an incredible explosion. Of course, the blast would likely kill me too -- I didn't like that idea.
There were so many people around -- Hughes wasn't likely the only one of them who was armed, so holding all of them hostage at gun point didn't seem likely either.
The most promising target seemed to be Janet herself. Whatever this was working through her, it seemed to be the brains of the operation If I could somehow shoot her -- if I could take her out, perhaps they would have to take time to regroup... maybe enough to make them miss this launch window they were talking about. I didn't know what exactly that would mean to anyone, but it seemed that not missing it was important to them. Even if the act didn't cost them that much, perhaps it would at least give me time to run off and escape.
Either way, it was a chance to do something... certainly better than standing here helplessly until they decided to stuff me in that shuttle and send me off God knows where.
Making the decision to act made every muscle in my body tighten and shake, like that time I went bungee jumping and stood looking down at a ravine full of sharp rocks and a shallow river below. Just like I had done then, I said a little prayer and closed my eyes -- then cast fate into the wind and went for it.
Janet was coming down the metal staircase just in front of me when I decided to go; in a perfect position for me to spin to my left and squeeze a round off at her.
My heart was pounding, my adrenaline pumping. Opening my hands as wide as I could, I sprung into action. In one fluid motion, I leaned back just enough to feel the steel of the weapon in my palm, then grabbed hold and yanked as I thrust my shoulders around counter-clockwise to spin my body.
"Hey!" Hughes shouted, feeling his weapon leaving his side.
Janet looked down at us just as I felt confident I had her in the crosshairs. I quickly pulled the trigger, the recoil of the weapon casting it out of my loose grasp as my target dropped to her behind on the staircase.
A deafening pow echoed through the space, bringing everyone's work to a halt as they dropped to the floor and covered their heads.
The world seemed to be moving in slow motion as I watched the trail of my bullet moving towards the woman -- like it was creating a rip in time and space. It struck the handrail she had been using and ricocheted off with a ping.
Fuck! I'd missed!
As punishment for trying, I caught a swift forearm to the side of my face, which knocked me down to the concrete. It made me see stars and wonder if Tweety Bird was making a joke atop my head, like he always does to Sylvester.
"Son of a bitch!" Hughes shouted, looking down at me with contempt. "He snatched my gun!"
Janet stood, looking rather miffed, and continued her descent until she was on ground level. "Not a wise move, Randy!" She scolded as she approached me. "I might recommend that you not try anything like that again -- lest I press the button on this little remote in my pocket."
The woman reached into her jeans and produced a small flat wedge of plastic with one red button at its center. I had no idea what it was, of course, and the tape over my mouth kept me from asking.
"Do you have any idea what will happen when I press it?" She asked.
I shook my head as she held it near my face. In response, she turned and walked towards one of the walls of this place and opened a panel built into it. Her goons picked me back up and held me tightly where I stood, looking in her direction. Janet pressed a combination of buttons in sequence, causing a large white screen to lower itself from the ceiling.
"You may or may not be aware, Randy." She began. "
But this archaic facility that your kind has built is equipped with two active launch pads. If you'll turn your attention to the screen, I'll show you pad 39-A."
At her command, an image of mostly empty space appeared on the screen. On the left side was a tall tower of some sort, looking like that thing that you see attached to spacecraft before they lift off.
"It's called a Gantry, Randy." She said, as though she'd been able to read my mind. "This is the pad that you will be departing from very soon... this pad is the more important of the two to me -- but let's take a look at 39-B, which will likely seem the most important to you."
She pressed a few more buttons and the display changed, showing another gantry standing tightly against a shuttle that looked a bit more familiar than the thing all these Phloxans were working on next to me.
"That is the space shuttle you call Atlantis." She explained. "It's one of the few left that you fools haven't managed to destroy... we'll take care of that, though, if we must. It's ready for lift-off; except for the fact that it hasn't got anywhere in particular to go. If I press this magic red button, it will fire the SRB -- the solid rocket booster. That's the big red torpedo looking thing you see strapped to it, since I'm sure you hadn't figured it out. Have you ever seen one of your shuttles being launched, Randy?"
I nodded.
"Then you've seen the incredible torrent of flame that a burning SRB puts out... it generates nearly three-million pounds of thrust, and a level of heat you couldn't possibly imagine. Why does this matter, you ask?"
Another adjustment of the controls changed the view once more, the screen now showing a tight-shot of what looked like the bottom of the rocket -- where the flames shoot out during launch. The image started to zoom out, revealing more detail and, eventually, the ground below.
"Uh-oh!" She mocked sarcastically as the display continued to pull back.
In the space directly below the mouth of this SRB, which she had described so vividly, was a chair. Seated in it was Sammy, bound and gagged just as I was. Even at a distance, it was obvious that he was terrified... crying and trying to scream for help as some sort of mist blew around him.
"Smmmy!" I cried out through the tape, struggling to break away from the men that held me so firmly.
"Such a shame!" She continued. "I'd hate to be forced to cook your little boy simply because you couldn't behave yourself!"
"Lttm gmmm!" I shouted.
"Let him go?" She repeated, more comprehensibly. "No, I don't think so... he's going to stay right there until you're well on your way to the stars, my friend! If you cooperate with us until then, I give you my word we'll kill him quickly and painlessly -- that's a lot more than I can say about what we're going to do to the rest of this planet. If you fuck with us, though, I'll press this button... my little angel wouldn't enjoy what would happen to him in that case at all, trust me! So, as I said, I suggest that you learn to play nicely with us -- deal or no deal?"
Tears streaming down my own face, I nodded. There was nothing that I could do -- no conceivable way to save him. My fate was as good as sealed... as was Sammy's, it seemed. These creatures had clearly planned all of this out very well -- no one man was going to stop them... certainly not me.
The goons continued to restrain me as Janet went back to work, several large cranes and other pieces of heavy equipment maneuvering around the place at her direction. Over the course of an hour or so, they basically cut my trailer apart to reveal the Tal-Gashot within. It looked taller and wider than I had even imagined when I saw it in the open for the first time... an amazing specimen, really.
It didn't have any sort of hair or fur anywhere on its body; just that rough tan flesh that looked impenetrable, stretched tight over bulging muscles that mirrored those of a human body builder.
Aside from the chastity-belt looking piece and the huge metallic X across its chest, it wore only some sort of collar around its neck that seemed to crowd its head.
Speaking of its head, the damned thing was hideous... I don't know how to begin to describe the face; it was like some combination of Freddy Krueger and Michael Jackson after all of those botched operations. It had all of the features you would associate with a person, but the proportions were way off. Its closed eyes seemed huge, its nose relatively small in comparison to the rest of its head.
Where you would expect a mouth to be, there was only a strange series of vertical slits in the flesh... I wasn't sure what to make of that. The jaw was misshapen and almost crooked looking, the cheeks very pronounced and darker than the rest.
Its brow was covered in deep lines -- almost like scars -- that formed some kind of pattern that looked as though it was there by design instead of pure accident of birth.
Janet continued to bark her commands as men nudged the beast onto its side with several forklift looking machines, allowing others to lay some sort of net made of giant chains underneath it. They repeated this on the other side, eventually lifting either end of this chain together with a crane to form a cradle.
They carefully lifted it off of the deck at that point and swiveled it over to line up with the space between two open doors atop the shuttle. They lowered it in, then cut it loose from the crane. The cargo loaded, they sealed the bay doors closed around it -- it was ready to go.
"Now him!" Janet ordered, the men picking me up by my ankles and wrists like the police do to crack heads on Cops in response.
Others moved the rolling staircase into place near the nose of the craft, allowing the goons to carry me up towards a smaller door built into the side. There was a heavy leather sack of some sort inside, which they slid my feet into before pulling it up around my neck. Then came a helmet that joined to it there, making it a bit of a space suit, I guess. There were no spots for my arms or legs, though -- I was essentially in the form of a giant sack of potatoes.
All suited up, they slammed me down into a chair at the front of the craft. They strapped me in facing forward, allowing me the privilege of being able to see out of several small tinted windshields.
I watched as a giant bay-door on the wall rolled up, and suddenly I started moving with a gentle jolt. It was slow going, but eventually the sunlight graced the craft and we were entirely outside.
No sooner than we had gotten out, the rig stopped again. My heart did somersaults as I felt the nose of the craft starting to rise -- they were lifting the shuttle to stand vertically.
I've never been so terrified in all my life as I was when I was looking straight up at the blue sky, probably sitting several hundred feet in the air. Gravity pulled me hard into the back of the chair into which I was strapped, the sensation entirely uncomfortable and nerve-racking. I didn't feel any better when our forward progress started again, fluffy clouds and blue the only things I could see as we rolled.
I don't know how Astronauts do it... panic was all I knew at that point, and the massive bombs strapped to my ass hadn't even started firing yet. Even in this essentially stationary position, I was as mortified as any roller coaster had ever made me feel.
I felt like I was on one of those dropping rides -- the kind that pulls you up a tall shaft and holds you high above the ground for what seems like an eternity before finally releasing the car and dropping you like a brick.
What would it feel like when the rockets fired? The shaking, the roaring of the flame, the incredible g-forces I would likely have to endure.
God, what horrors awaited me?
Worse yet -- what was to come after liftoff, if I somehow managed to survive it?
Chapter 26