An Untitled Novel

The first indication their introduction was about to go bad was a burst of transmissions between the ground and jets above; the second indication being that it stopped. “Heat management or durability?” ACE asked, using intentionally fast words. Before a response could be given, however, the jets fired upon them. He dropped the craft in altitude quickly, hoping the thrusting mechanisms could counteract the otherworldly G forces that were in effect as they had during the simulations. Credit to the long dead Elthrice engineers, everything seemed to work as it should, despite the rather novel application of such hardware.

Enough time had passed and he began to understand the behavior of the missiles. They certainly had no trouble seeing the craft, its surface an astronomical heat, but they were slow in their responses and speed. With less capacity devoted to predicting their trajectory, the second priority rose to prominence: a great display. He began to roll the craft on its axis before beginning a Fibonacci sequence, forcing the missiles to effectively continue straight as they constantly corrected to where the craft was moments ago. Passing the missiles, mere centimeters from detonation proximity, he turned the craft instantly at 90 degrees and began flying away horizontally; missiles and jets becoming stationary objects.

He felt something. It wasn’t the first time, but it was still a rarity, and certainly the first time he had felt something like this. Pride maybe? No, it felt too muted, at least when compared to the descriptions of the emotion. Satisfied. He was satisfied with what he had done. “What just happened?” Spiro asked, responding to ACE’s question directed at Basil. “What are they saying?” Basil asked moments later, before Spiro’s question could be answered. “They are confused, and are speculating the craft is unmanned. An order has been given, however, to stop firing and disarm the munitions in the missiles they launched.” ACE replied, trying to answer both questions.

“Alright, let’s go back and try to talk again. Any signs of the Elthrice showing up during that little sidequest?” Basil asked. “No signs of the Elthrice. I am bringing the craft back now and patching you back into their radio, although I have an idea for continuing our demonstration.” ACE brought the craft back into the area at high speeds, slowing down as it matched course to the side of the closest jet. The jet, now likely blaring with alarms at the heat quickly dissipating from the craft, tried to pull away; ACE matching its movement exactly.

“You have used your weapons; shall I test mine, or shall we speak of our combined defenses against a very dangerous adversary?” Basil bluffed over the radio. The calm man returned to the radio, voice as still as before. “Very well, what do you propose?” Basil spoke, his mantle aiding him in avoiding emotion or fear in his voice, but internally glad at the change of events. “I wish to speak with you in person and aid in the defense against the problematic ones in order to verify their containment or eradication. Then I will leave.” The calm man replied without any pause. “Then you may land as soon as your ship has cooled to safe levels.” Basil checked the console, satisfied that the gunship was dissipating heat as fast as predicted, and shortly after ACE was narrating their landing.

Spiro stepped out of the craft behind Basil, or, well, the being that he was mostly confident was still Basil - despite its appearance. He rationed it away, besides, he was in disguise too. ACE had given him some sort of uniform that he said was Earth military; different from Amigosian uniforms, but not as alien as he expected. Over it he wore thick metal plates designed to stop bullets and - something he knew was not standard Earth military garb - a cloth mask that hid his entire head aside from his eyes. Basil’s clothes looked like a costume at first; a dark charcoal colored jacket and pants over a white shirt - odd, but not overtly alien to Amigosian garb. The bright red cloth around his neck, and the little gold piece of metal affixing it to his shirt, however, were certainly more alien than the rest of his outfit.

Stepping out, however, and Basil’s garb looked much less out of place. Basil’s people, or at least the ones that were once Basil’s people, all wore similar clothes as Basil did. They would have looked imposing had they all not jumped back as Basil exited. His mantel was unnerving to Spiro himself, and he was told to expect it, so he couldn’t help but pity those unprepared for it - even if they had just tried to kill them. Like the hooded one, Basil’s face was unseeable. No eyes or mouth, ears or hair, just a blank nothingness. Only, unlike the hooded one, Basil did not wear a hood. After a few moments of shock, followed by a few hair raising moments of weapons pointed at them, they were wordlessly led to a tent where an older heavy man looked on expressionlessly.

“You are the one I spoke to?” the Calm Man asked, and Spiro felt uneasy at the lack of fear on the man. Basil had assured them that those on Earth weren’t capable of doing anything he hadn’t seen before, but the calm man’s confidence seemed to disagree with that assertion. “Yes” the Faceless Man replied, speaking for the first time since exiting the craft, the thousand whispers sending another wave of terror out through all but the calm man. “And what exactly are you?” The Faceless Man remained quiet for some time, but seemed to decide on a diluted version of the truth. “I am assigned a protector; my sole purpose here is to contain the spread of a dangerous faction.” The calm man sounded suspicious. “Yet you carry human weapons?” gesturing to the rifles held by the two “And seem to have a human companion?” The Faceless Man replied cryptically. “I was given a limited allotment of supplies, these have been scavenged. Useful in certain cases, but not against those I fear you will see today.”

Even in his terrifying presence and oddly different manner of speaking as the Faceless Man, Basil still lacked his skill with words. Spiro watched as all around him, except the Calm Man, took on a mix of worried and horrified looks. While Spiro knew Basil didn’t consider him a scavenged weapon and was only trying to explain away the rifles, those around him didn’t seem to take it that way, and knowing Basil he didn’t even realize the misunderstanding had happened. Unless, of course, it was one of those (object) moments and it somehow thought that was the most terrifying response. The Calm Man turned directly to Spiro. “You, are you being held against your will?”

This was the exact sort of situation he wanted to avoid. If the Faceless Man responded instead of Spiro they’d probably turn on him for seemingly kidnapping one of their own. Yet these people were probably Amigosian Ministry of Information equivalents, meaning he had to tread in his response carefully. “No sir, I took an oath to defend my nation and I believe it is best fulfilled this way” Spiro replied confidently. The others took on a much calmer expression and Spiro felt pleased; Amigosian wits remained unmatched.

“What do you know of these beings we are here to confront?” the Faceless Man asked, directing words towards the Calm Man. “I cannot provide that information. Forgive my bluntness, but we don’t exactly know your origins or motivations, and you aren’t exactly fourth coming, so we do not trust you enough to share intel.” The Faceless Man seemed unfazed. “These beings belong to the civilization (Elthrice), though it is best translated to ‘Elthrice’ – the same as I do. These particular beings we are likely to confront are desperate, and likely seek an invasion or infiltration.” Spiro felt a little worried; if these were ministry analogs then they wouldn’t participate in a good natured exchange of information.

“So, what exactly do you believe yourself to be? Our protector, controlling access to our planet?” The Faceless Man responded. “Yes, in a way. I am here to uproot the weeds sprouted from seeds spread of my own tree, but have no animosity to the other plants of your garden.” An unease washed over Spiro; Basil never spoke like this. The Calm Man asked two more questions in rapid fire. “What sort of authority structure do you have, and are we likely to see more of you?” The Faceless Man responded, a contradictory mix of sorry and apathy hidden beneath the whispers. “I am the last of ones with my capabilities, and the only one of my allegiances you will meet, if that is what you ask.” The Faceless Man paused momentarily before continuing with “I am what you may call an endangered species.”

This was a problem. Spiro himself had been trained to interrogate without the other feeling like he was being interrogated, and this same manner of questioning was occurring now. Basil had fallen for it once before, and here the Faceless man was falling for it yet again. A pang of guilt hit him as he remembered turning on Basil, although he would hopefully use his skills to aid him this time. He broke his calm, unexpressive expression, and glared straight at the lack of a face. The Faceless man suddenly straightened and took a more rigid posture, seeming to get the message. An odd dread washed over Spiro; while the Faceless man had only just changed his posture, his brain felt like the Faceless man had just grown by ten feet and took on a menacing expression, even if his eyes reported that nothing had changed. The dread turned to satisfaction as everyone in the room except the calm man stepped back, a reminder that Basil was on his side - even in this form.

“Be warned, Earth does not require a guardian or overlord, and you are not the one to decide who may or may not enter. You will be permitted to aid in its defense, but that is the only permission I have granted, and it is tenuous.” The Faceless Man replied, a sudden darkness deep in his voice.

“You say these things, but you have not born witness to what I have. I have witnessed the sterilization of many planets, and have initiated such destruction upon two. You play a game in the dark and yet you know not even what the opponents’ pieces can do.” Though remaining outwardly unexpressive, the Calm Man appeared to take a moment to process the unknown being’s words. Before he could respond, however, the conversation was interrupted by words arriving over the Calm Man’s radio.

“Sir, we’ve just captured somebody who claims to be a hiker driving out here, he somehow slipped past our guys on the perimeter.” The Faceless Man replied directly to the transmission before anybody else could respond. “If you have captured somebody they are very likely not the ones I am here for.” The Faceless Man received disapproving glances from those around the Calm Man, all seeming unhappy with Faceless Man’s flaunting of his access to their network. The one on the other end of the radio seemed hesitant to respond, but eventually the Calm Man replied. “How would we know for sure?” The Faceless Man took an oddly fluid step towards the Calm Man. “The being would almost certainly be nearly seven feet or taller, and they would have no means of obscuring that.” The radio cracked in response. “Yeah, this guy has to be at least seven feet tall. But so what, is every Norwegian one of them?”

The Faceless Man replied, ignoring the last comment. “A more obvious indicator would be a gray green complexion, which could be hidden with pigments or a technological augmentation. To defeat the latter you would need to render your subject unconscious.” The voice on the other end of the radio fell silent for a moment, but suddenly turned frantic. “Shit, he’s wearing makeup. Er, um, not a he. I think it’s one of them.” The calm man seemed to remain stoic, and the Faceless Man only uttered “Interesting” in his otherworldly voice.

The Calm Man went to leave the tent, but the Faceless Man spoke with a surprising air of urgency. “I must accompany you during interrogation.” Despite no change in voice, the Calm Man had an air of suspicion. “And why would that be?” The Faceless Man replied coldly. “Because he now knows you are on to him. You will never be able to get any information from his kind, but regardless of his objections, he will give it to me.”