I don't know how long it took, but finally my generator was finished.
Finished, and portable. I strapped it to my back and picked up my
longest and sharpest kitchen knife. I didn't have a gun, but it didn't
matter. If my theory was correct, a knife would be just as good--and if
I were wrong, a gun wouldn't help anyway.
Then, without stopping to ponder, I ran downstairs and out into the
street for the test.
Fresh air smelled good after days of being cooped up in my little
apartment. I stood in the middle of the street and surveyed the
wreckage.
Bodies lay everywhere, charred and lifeless. Overturned automobiles lay
piled here and there, stalled trucks, artillery batteries and tanks.
The defensive maneuver had failed, and what few people remained were in
hiding. I stood alone in the middle of the street, the heavy generator
on my back, and waved my kitchen knife as triumphantly as if it were
Excalibur.
"Come and get me," I yelled. "Come on Invaders. Let's see what you can
do!"
I looked up. There were a few clusters of them, browsing idly around
some television antennas atop a neighboring building. They ignored me
for a few minutes; maybe they were so surprised to see a living human
in the streets that they were unable to move. I shook my fists at them.
"Come down here where I can get at you!" I shouted.
They hovered uncertainly--and then they came.
* * * * *
Six of them swooped down, humming and buzzing, glowing faintly and
billowing in and out as they dropped toward me. I waited, waited until
they were no more than three or four feet above my head, waited until I
was dizzy with the strain and suspense and could wait no more.
Then I snapped on the generator.
It was like catching flies in molasses. The six aliens stopped dead
in their tracks as my force-field spread out around them, engulfed
them, imprisoned them. Suddenly they were forced to contend with more
radiation than they could possibly swallow. It pinned them there, nine
feet above the ground.
I listened to their frenzied buzzing as they stretched themselves,
elongated fantastically in an attempt to free themselves from the
unexpected thing that had grabbed them. And then I stretched up on
tiptoes and began to stab.
My knife flashed once, twice--and the buzzing became an unbearable
shriek. My heart surged as I struck home again and again. Now we had
them! Now they were vulnerable!
Snared in the force-field, they no longer were able to flicker out of
phase with our dimension every time a weapon approached. They were
anchored now, mired in our continuum, helpless before my savage attack.
I kept stabbing until all six of them were torn and wounded, and then
I snapped off the force-field. And they were gone. Instantly, without
lapse, they popped out of existence like so many snuffed flames.
_Six down_, I thought grimly. _Six down, and untold thousands to go.
But now we have a weapon._
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account