Clones vs. Aliens (22 page)

Three had stepped forward as he spoke. In build and facial structure, he was identical to Fisher and Alex. His hair was dyed black and slicked straight back, and he wore his gray prison jumpsuit like a major general’s uniform. His eyes were the same as Fisher’s on the surface, but there was no light beneath them. Only an unyielding, stony wall.

“If you have any hope of success,” Three said, “you’ll need to enlist help not just from your friends, but from your enemies, too.”

“What do you mean?” said Amanda, scowling.

“Even the combined armies of every industrialized nation on Earth won’t be able to defeat the Mechastaceans head-on, which means you must be planning an infiltration,” said Three. “Trying to slip into their fleet on a Gemini spacecraft will be difficult no matter what, but it will be impossible if you do not first distract them with an attack elsewhere. Using your own military forces will cost human lives unnecessarily. Why not distract them with a powerful force, a race with whom they are already at war.”

“The Gemini,” said Alex slowly.

“He’s right,” Veronica said with a look like she’d just downed a grass-clippings-and-library-dust milk shake. “If we want to slip past the Mechastaceans’ defenses, we need their attention elsewhere. We need a diversion, and a big one.”

Agent Mason looked to Fisher, raising his eyebrows inquiringly.

“I agree with Three.” Fisher forced the words out. “The Gemini have the power, and the motive, to go after the Mechastaceans.”

Mason holstered his weapon.

“Because the planet is at stake, I will allow your help, if you cooperate fully and agree to constant supervision,” Mason said, addressing Three. “If you double-cross us, I’ll toss you in a cell the size of a phone booth until the sun burns out or I have a change of heart. Which I will not.”

For a few seconds, Three stayed motionless. Then the right corner of his mouth curled up very slightly, and he inclined his head.

“We have a deal then,” he said. “I will help you defeat the Mechastaceans.”

But Fisher was far from reassured. Had they given humanity a fighting chance?

Or doomed it to total extinction?

Fisher knocked on the door of the Gemini’s bus for what he hoped would be the last time. Anna and Bee opened the door and broke into identical scowls.

“What do you want?” Anna said.

“Your help, believe it or not,” said Fisher. “Turns out, pirates are not men of their words. Or … lobsters of their words. Whatever. The point is, they’re planning to take over the Earth. We’re going to stop them, but we can’t do it without you.”

“Why should we help you?” Bee said.

“Because if you do, you get your ship back,” Fisher said. “Packed with explosives, of course, so that we can detonate it at a moment’s notice if you turn on us again. Also, the navigation computer will be locked on a one-way trip back to your home planet.”

Anna’s and Bee’s eyes flickered.

“Perhaps we could … 
unite
against our common foe,” Bee said. “In the interest of our survival and yours.
What exactly would you have us do?”

“The Mechastacean scout ship has landed in the Mojave Desert,” Fisher said. “We’re going to fly your ship straight into their fleet. You will attack the grounded scout ship. Hopefully, the attack will dominate their attention and resources, so they won’t notice us sneaking in by space.”

The Gemini drones stood completely still. Fisher knew that their mind must be pondering the suggested truce. He held his breath.

“We have one stipulation,” Bee said finally.

“All right,” Fisher said carefully. “What?”

“We want a large stock of the seeds from which your ‘potatoes’ grow,” said Anna. “And instructions for converting them into several-pointed crispy eatables.”

It took Fisher a moment to work out what she meant by
several-pointed crispy eatables.
“You … want to make your own spicy star fries?” Fisher said, struggling not to laugh when Anna and Bee nodded. “Fine. We’ll give you as many seeds as you can carry and the recipe.”

For the first time in a long time, Anna and Bee smiled.

“We will tell you a secret,” Anna said. “The Mechastaceans are almost entirely mechanical,” Anna said. “But their flagship has a very small organic core. We do not know where in the ship it is, but if you remove or destroy it, the entire fleet will be disabled.”

“Thank you,” Fisher said sincerely. “We’ll do our best.”
He had a feeling the Gemini still couldn’t be trusted, but he literally didn’t have time to worry about that right now. He handed Bee a little phone that Agent Mason had given to him, which sent and received special encrypted signals to the MORONS communication system. “You’ll hear from us when we know exactly when we want you to strike.”

He turned away without another word and jogged down the steps and into his house. There were three more elements crucial to the mission: Whatever gear Fisher could scrounge from his bedroom lab, the hacking and calculating prowess of his AI, CURTIS, and the most potent, least predictable force in the known world: Flying Pig.

FP took one look at the MORONS cavern, sped away from Fisher, and joyfully leapt off the catwalk, spreading his tiny wings and spiraling down through the air toward the Gemini ship.

“I can see how he might come in handy,” Agent Mason said, straightening his black tie.

“In more ways than you’d expect,” Fisher answered, watching the little pink dot descend lower and lower until he reached the floor with an ungainly thump.

Fisher carried a big backpack filled with whatever equipment had caught his eye in a very quick dash through his house. He also had a portable hard drive slung around his neck on a chain in which CURTIS was riding. The powerful AI would be the key to finding their way through the Mechastacean flagship and determining where the organic core was—if such a thing did, indeed, exist.

The whole base was buzzing with more agents, special ops soldiers, scientists, and engineers than Fisher had ever seen. Announcements rang out from the loudspeaker
system at least three times a minute, messages flashed across giant display screens, and hundreds of technicians swarmed across the ship, checking every centimeter for leaks, cracks, structural weaknesses, and any other crash damage that the repair teams might have missed.

By the time Fisher got to the ground floor, all of the shouting voices and clanging machinery had fused into a roar. A massive screen showing radar reports had been installed against one wall of the cave. On one side of its display was a big circle he took to be Earth. Nearly two dozen objects were approaching. The first of them had just passed inside the Moon’s orbit.

The alien fleet was arriving.

Alex emerged from the mass of scientists, holding FP in his arms.

“They’re coming,” Alex said, pointing up at the big screen. “Mason’s gathering everyone near the ship for a mission briefing,” Alex said. “You ready?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” Fisher said, scratching FP behind the ears.

“So … that’s a no?” Alex said with a faint smile.

Fisher managed to smile, too. “Exactly. But what else can we do?”

“Nothin’ at all,” Alex said as FP snout-nuzzled his chin. “Shall we?”

“Let’s,” Fisher said, jogging his backpack higher.

Mason stood with his back to the ship, a slender tablet arranged on a podium in front of him. Fisher, Alex, their parents, Amanda, and Veronica took seats in front of him. FP sat in Fisher’s arms. Dr. X and Three stood off to the side—surrounded, Fisher couldn’t help but notice with a certain grim satisfaction, by armed guards. Clearly, Mason wasn’t taking any chances.

“Here’s the situation,” Mason said. He swiped the tablet and a hologram popped into existence above it. The Earth was in the center, with the Moon’s orbit shown as a glowing line. The pirate fleet was displayed in full detail.

“The remainder of the Mechastacean fleet has been approaching rapidly for the past day,” Mason said. “They’ll reach low orbit in a matter of hours. When they do, they’re going to demand our immediate surrender, and we will refuse. That will trigger the largest war in human history. It will also very likely be the last
event
in human history.”

Fisher watched everyone’s face turn grim and stony. Only Three’s expression remained as unnervingly curious as always. People were a source of amusement to him, only useful to him as stepping-stones. The evil clone looked like he was taking in the human exhibit at the zoo. The way things were going, the zoo might be the only spot humans existed in the future.

“Don’t get me wrong,” Mason said, “I’d rather go out
with a furious fight for our lives than surrender. But it would be best to avoid both options.”

He tapped his screen and the hologram zoomed in on one of the ships. Most of the Mechastaceans’ ships were variations on the scout ship’s design: blocky, sharp-angled, basically rectangles in space, albeit huge and terrifying ones.

But this ship was different. It was much bigger than the others, and shaped like a capital
C
with sharpened ends.

“This is their flagship,” said Mason, pausing to take a breath as everyone marveled at its size. “It’s at least five miles port to starboard, maybe more bow to stern. It’s tough to get an exact reading. According to what the Gemini said”—he nodded to indicate Fisher—“this ship is the key to the whole fleet’s operation. Take out its core, and the fleet falls apart. Let’s hope they were telling the truth.” He paused and tapped another button on the screen. Now the hologram showed an image of the scout ship, grounded in the middle of the Mojave Desert. “In less than an hour,” he resumed, “the Gemini will launch their assault. Our helicopters will drop them off nearby and then make like crazy for a safe distance. They’re back up to twenty-six, and with their powers of transformation and explosion, they can certainly give the scout ship a good fight.”

“And while that’s happening, we’re going up to the
pirate flagship to disable it,” Amanda said eagerly.

“That’s right,” Mason said coolly. “You four”—he indicated the kids—“have more experience with alien contact than anyone on Earth, and you’ve proven yourselves capable of handling infiltration. You’ll be our field agents. The Bas parents, Dr. X, and I will direct the mission from here. Fisher and Veronica, you’re in charge of logistics and tactics. Amanda, you’re the muscle.” Amanda gave a rare smile. “To that end, I’ve got something that will even the playing field should you have to go up against the Mechastaceans in one-on-one combat.”

He held up a suit made of thin-looking black fabric with sleek silver trim.

“Fisher told us all about his strength-enhancing sleeves, and their use during an unfortunate dodgeball incident,” Mason said, barely concealing a smile. “He was good enough to give us two to reverse engineer. Our people had just enough time to manufacture this full-body suit.” He tossed the suit to Amanda, who caught it one-handed. “Which brings us to Alex,” Mason went on. “You’re the pilot.”

“The pilot?” Alex said, eyes practically popping. “I can’t even drive a
car.
How am I supposed to fly an alien spacecraft?”

“With this,” Mason said, holding up a glass of water. “Your mother’s H2Info. Everything we’ve learned about
how the Gemini ship works is in here, along with the training of a fighter pilot.”

He handed it to Alex, who looked at it, shrugged, and drained the glass in a single gulp.

“And me?” Three said, turning his reptilian gaze to Mason.

“Your capacity for violence and mayhem is astounding,” said Mason. “As much as I’d prefer to have you padlocked in a door-less cell, we may very well need both violence and mayhem in spades.” He frowned. “You’re the emergency device. The bomb we set off if things start going wrong. You will be restrained in a full-body manacle to which Fisher has the only release. Fisher, you will decide when, and if, you need him.”