Alien Exodus (Eden's Angels Book 2)

Book summary

In "Alien Exodus," Gary Beene delves into an ancient tale of extraterrestrial interference, genetic manipulation, and unintended consequences. This second installment in the 'Eden's Angels' series follows Admiral James Cortell as he unveils the secrets of Earth's past, revealing a rich tapestry of interstellar intrigue, peril, and exploration that spans millennia.

Excerpt from Alien Exodus

“The weapons, Ramuell!” Vapula whispered urgently. She tapped the box with her six fingertips. “We need these weapons…to survive, we must have them.”

“Then we need a distraction.”

“So, I will distract.” Vapula snugged her helmet down over her forehead, squeezed my arm, and staggered into the corridor. As the two Serefim Security sentries approached, she wobbled to the left, pushed off the wall, stumbled several steps to the right, looked up at the officers, fluttered her eyelids, and fell flat on her face. She didn’t even extend an arm to break the fall. She tucked her chin into her chest, letting the helmet clonk hard on the deck.

Unprepared for her theatrical realism, I gasped and uselessly threw my hands over my mouth milliseconds after the sound escaped. No matter, both sentries were sprinting to Vapula’s aid.

One kneeled to check her carotid pulse. The other pulled his communicator and called the infirmary to dispatch emergency medical personnel.

When Vapula began to moan and thrash around, I ducked back into the armory and finished filling a cargo box marked “SUNDRIES” with charged particle weapons. Using the hubbub of the medical technicians’ arrival, I slipped unnoticed into the six-metre-wide corridor. Believing bluster was better than stealth, I ran toward the crowd gathering around Vapula, pulling the caster-mounted crate behind me.

“Good gods! That’s Science Officer Vapula. She’s on my team at SWA-7. What happened?”

“I don’t know,” the shorter of the two sentries replied. “She had a seizure or something and just flopped on the floor.”

The medical technicians immobilized Vapula’s neck with a brace. “One, two, three…” With choreographed synchronicity, they slid her onto a gurney and lashed her down.

As they began rolling toward the zero-grav transport tube, I told the Serefim sentries, “I’m going with her. My shuttle back to the planet’s surface departs from this torus in about an hour.” Motioning toward the box stuffed with illegally procured weaponry, I asked, “Would it be okay to leave this behind the security counter?”

The taller of the two men eyed me suspiciously. His partner was more gracious. “Sure, we’ll keep an eye on it.”

For some reason, the tall man had his doubts. “Okaay, but I want to get your identification information just in case you’re late getting back for the shuttle.” He pulled a handheld digital reader out of a cabinet behind the counter and scanned my badge.

“Oh, I won’t be late. The folks at SWA-7 are needing these supplies.”

“Yeah, but if your partner takes a turn for the worse…it’s best if we have your contact information.”

Butterflies shot through my stomach as I turned to leave.

“Hope your partner’s okay—she sure fell hard,” the more gregarious officer called out.

I looked over my shoulder and saw the taller man’s face etched with suspicion. I thought, ‘Shit, shit, shit…I hope I haven’t overplayed my hand.’ I worried if they opened the crate I’d be spending at least a few nights in the orbiting station’s brig. A bead of sweat trickled down my back.

I had to leave the artificial gravity created by the rotation of the enormous Torus-5, enter the zero-grav transport tube and exit at the spoke leading to Torus-3. When I got to the infirmary I found Vapula in a tiny treatment room with a sliding transparent acrylic door. She was still pretending to be unconscious. One of the med-techs was loosening the straps that secured her to the gurney. I asked her, “So what’s the plan?”

“First, we’ll do a scan of her head and neck to be sure she doesn’t have any fractures or internal bleeding. Then we’ll hook her up to a neuro-scanner to see if there’s any seizure activity.” The woman studied me for a few seconds. “Now be honest, this is important. Do you know if she had consumed any intoxicants?”

“Vapula!” I laughed. “She’s such a straight arrow she’s borderline boring. She drinks tea in the morning and can occasionally be coerced to indulge in a café.”

“So, that’s a no.”

“A definite no.”

“Is it possible she could have consumed an intoxicant by mistake?” the technician asked.

“Do you mean someone slipping something into her food? Why would anyone do that?”

“Who knows? We’ll do a toxicology screen just to be sure.”

As soon as the technician left, Vapula opened one eye just a slit. I stepped over to the gurney and leaned in close to her face. She whispered, “Borderline boring…really?”

“Hey, I had to think fast.”

“Speaking of which, I didn’t think you liked to gamble.”

“I don’t.”

Vapula continued to whisper, “Hiding the crate of weapons in plain sight – that was quite a high-stakes play for a non-gambler.”

“And you don’t know the half of it. I asked the sentries to stow it behind the security post counter.”

Vapula’s stunning amber-colored eyes shot open. “You’ve got a big dick for such a young man! But you don’t want to leave the box with them too long.”

“Yeah, I know. What are you gonna do?”

“At this point, we’ve got no choice but to play this out. In a couple of minutes, you can announce that I’ve regained consciousness. They are still going to want to take their pictures and hook me up to a neuro-monitor for at least a day. I’ll talk them into discharging me late tomorrow or early the next day,” Vapula answered.

“Okay, I better go—you want me to tell them you’re awake?”

“Yeah.” Then shaking her head slightly, “If this succeeds it’ll become known as Ramuell’s gambit.”

“Vapula’s and Ramuell’s gambit, I think. I couldn’t believe how hard you conked your helmet on the floor.”

Grinning, she replied, “Well, I suppose.”

***

Both sentries glared at me as I exited the access portal from the zero-grav transport tube. ‘Oh no! They’ve opened the crate.’ But when I approached the counter I saw the lid was still clamped shut. They’d not have reclosed the lid if they found the weapons. Trying to be nonchalant I said, “Dr. Vapula regained consciousness, but they’re going to keep her overnight to run some tests.”

I had expected some kind of response but got only stony stares. As I stepped behind the counter I said, “Can’t thank you guys enough for your help. I better grab our supplies and make a dash for the shuttle. It’s scheduled to leave from Port 4 in a few minutes.”

“You see, Ramuell,” the taller man said, “we want to talk to you about that.” He pointed at the foliopad lying on the counter.

I looked at the screen and saw my security file was open. I didn’t look up for fear my eyes would give me away.

Making air quotes, the sentry continued, “Before you ‘make a dash for the shuttle,’ perhaps we ought to take a quick look at the supplies that are so desperately needed by the good folks down at SWA-7.”