If you take a bird's eye view of the first forty-eight hours of an invasion, you'd be surprised at how they spread. We imagine this spread as a flood emanating from the center and spreading outwards, but in reality, like they are almost plants, the opposites move more organically.
The initial invasion and spread was relatively limited and concentrated in a few areas. In the first dozen hours, the hive colony was highly concentrated, covering five or six square kilometers. They then roll out in a ring, often beginning a massive expansion the day after their initial landing.
The cycle of expansion stops, new foundations are consolidated, and then the third wave leaves.
Some people liken it to breathing, and they're not entirely wrong. This process has its ups and downs, but it is not constant. The amount of resistance they encounter often determines how quickly they spread. "
—Professor Heinlein, excerpted from a lecture on knowledge gained from early antithetical research (later called alien anthropology), 2028.
***
I came down to find a dozen office drones, Elisa and Sto
m are waiting. They were listless, as I imagine someone who knows they're dead would see the world.
They turned to me as I pushed the door open with my shoulder.
I got a lot of looks, which was nothing new. I'm a one-armed Cyclops with some weird scars and a bit of an attitude problem. Being stared at was routine. "Are you still playing?" I asked.
Storm pushed aside the pillar he was leaning against. "We are," he said. "How are things going up there?"
"There's a bunch of aliens out there. I'm an important person there. If we hurry up, we should be able to make it up without any trouble." I pointed my thumb at the ceiling. "Are you ready for a jog?"
They're not keen on physical exercise, who can blame them, but they don't need to look like I'm just asking them to participate in a puppy kicking contest.
"Come on, you can either go away or stay here and turn to the aliens."
This makes them more agile. A large group of us trudged up the stairs and ran to the back room to get to the upper level.
I loved how they stared wide-eyed at the dozens of smashed, melted, and torn aliens in the cafeteria. Less pleasant was the sight of knee-high birds pecking away at some of the carcasses, occasionally taking a bite with their sharp beaks.
"What is that?" I muttered.
Model monsters, I call them models, ha, of course the prefix number is convenient for distinguishing them.
They became quite common within hours of the invasion starting, and would no doubt soon become the most populous antagonist variant in the area. They pose a negligible threat, but can still be dangerous in larger numbers.
"Can I shoot them?" I asked.
certainly. This may scare them away.
I took my trench machine out of its holster and paused to take aim. I know to put my feet just right and aim, I do try a little bit, but I think it's better to do what feels comfortable.
Or I diminish my ability to actually hit anything.
I squinted, pointed the reticle at a larger crow-like bird, bit the tip of my tongue, and pulled the trigger.
Model One exploded, leaving only entrails, strange feathers, and flames.
"Oh, yes," I said.
The others flinched, but all the other models took to the skies and scurried off.
Target eliminated!
Reward... 1 point
"That's kind of sad," I said.
Models can be killed by hundreds, and easily. Giving more than one point each encourages the Vanguard's bad habits.
"Yeah," I said, and looked over to the survivors. "Woo, let's move on."
"Storm" nodded, and soon the group set off again, circling around the corpses along the way.
The next stairwell originally led to the parking lot. This is the final sprint stage. No one I was with seemed ready to intervene. Security lights are visible through the glass in the door, bathing everything in red. I opened the door and looked around, but found nothing.
"I'll go first." I said.
The climb was...anti-climatic. There are just a few stairs to reach the platform at the top. No aliens, no corpses.
"It's a sunny day!" I shouted before walking to the door to the next level. There is a barricade next to it, with boxes stacked on top of each other, and chairs and tables behind it.
I opened the door and waited by it, out of the line of fire. "Who's there?" someone called.
I felt a sigh of relief come off my shoulders. "I'm Cat," I said, waving. "Cute, one-armed. Samurai. I wish you should know me."
I turned around and saw a young man in his twenties, wearing the security uniform of the Moore police, looking nervously through a hole in the garbage wall. "Oh, yeah, okay. Uh, we can move some things."
"Cool," I said. "We still have about a dozen people here. And that Storm guy."
"Did Storm and Jeff make it?" he asked. "Great. I'll tell Simmons and get some help with this wall. Just give us a minute!"
I sighed. To be honest, I can't complain too much. I was so close to seeing Kitten and Lucy again. Then we would find a way to escape from the center of the invasion.
As others started to show up, Simmons emerged on the other side of the barricade. Some of them pulled some chairs out of the pile and sat down, others were quick to complain about not being able to get past.
"Captain," Simmons said. "You brought my people back."
I cringed a little. "I got one of them back," I said.
Simmons met my eyes. "Better than nothing. Come in, we have a few things to discuss."
"I'm sure I'm going to enjoy this conversation," I deadpanned.
Save Humanity: Add 11 points
New total: 226
