Transmogrifications

“Are you sure we’re in the right place Major?”

Captain Nick Evans sounded dubious as he surveyed the torrid landscape under cupped hands. His commanding officer, Major Elias Thomkins, smiled indulgently.

“There’s no mistake Captain.”

Evans rotated through a full circle, eyeing the vista that spread before him in unrelieved monotony. Copious quantities of rocks and sand interspersed with sirocco-like winds and merciless heat. He ended his brief perusal by facing Thomkins. He nodded reluctantly.

“Okay. Can you tell me now why we’re here?”

“Yeah, well, I’m sorry about that,” Thomkins responded guiltily. “High command wanted this mission kept strictly on the QT. We couldn’t afford to have the enemy find out about our plans and steal a march on us.”

Evans considered his commanding officer’s explanation for a moment.

“I guess I can understand that,” Evans conceded. “So what’s it all about?”

Thomkins sucked in a lung full of scorched air, then exhaled forcefully through clenched teeth.

“We’re going to set up an advanced re-supply base. This place may not look like much, but satellite reconnaissance indicates enough raw materials to fuel and provision an invasion fleet.”

Evans evinced no emotion at this revelation. He blinked rapidly as a gust of wind deposited sand in his eyes. When no response was forthcoming, Thomkins continued.

“The soil samples retrieved by our unmanned reconnaissance craft reveal a high level of dormant vegetable matter intermixed with the soil. It’s nutritious and provides a high caloric content as well. We simply need to separate the vegetable from the mineral, add texture, add flavor, and we have a supply of food that is, for all intents and purposes, limitless.”

“What about water?” Evans finally broke his self-imposed silence.

Thomkins pointed straight down.

“We’re standing on top of it. A massive underground aquifer.”

“And the fuel to run all of our equipment?” Evans countered.

“Oil, oil shale, natural gas, coal, uranium, you name it and this place has it.”

Evans turned quickly as another blast of wind swept over them.

“All right,” Evans said simply. “What’s first?”

With an outstretched hand, Thomkins indicated a sizable area of level land.

“We’ll build the main camp right over there. Landing pad, barracks, food and fuel production facilities, etc.”

Thomkins then pointed his chin towards a distant prominence in the landscape.

“That’s the highest point of land around. We’ll need a tactical outpost built there as well. It won’t do to have the enemy sitting up there lobbing who knows what into our main camp. You’ll take charge of that operation and I’ll direct activities here.”

“What else do we know about this planet?”

Thomkins shook his head.

“Very little. That’s another one of our official tasks, scientific research. But that can wait. One thing we do know, there is a rainy season here, believe it or not. As a matter of fact, it’s just beginning. The storms are localized to an extreme degree.”

Evans clapped his hands together in eager anticipation.

“Well, I’m ready to get started whenever you are Major.”

“Good. Have Sergeant Collins begin the unloading process.”

“Right away, sir.”

The landing team consisted of a company of pioneers, special troops equally adept at both construction and combat. The company was composed of approximately two hundred men.

Evans collected the material earmarked for the tactical outpost and had it loaded on desert crawlers. Thomkins assigned him one platoon, approximately fifty men, for the operations, and they began the mile long trek to the high ground to the west.

Thomkins and the balance of the company began construction of the main base. The first order of business was delineating a defensive perimeter. The men had begun laying out the minefield when a packet of dusky clouds made an appearance on the northern horizon and began a rapid approach on the fledgling base camp.

Evans, too far off by now to be affected, watched in amazement as the storm bore down on his comrades like a runaway locomotive. In a matter of minutes the rain clouds enveloped the men laboring at the main camp. As quickly as it had arrived, the storm passed on, leaving behind a swath of emerald measuring a hundred yards across, and stretching off in either direction as far as vision allowed. The latent plant life held in check for want of water, surged upwards into the light of day.

“Instant paradise,” a thoroughly soaked Major Thomkins mused. “Just add water.”

The men marveled at the thick green sward now cushioning their every step. After the initial surprise had dissipated, the men resumed their labors.

Darkness interrupted any further progress, and the soldiers, after devising a sentry schedule, obtained some rest.

The next day, Thomkins continued erecting the defensive perimeter. This work included sensor installation and the construction of a sturdy fence. Throughout the day, storms could be seen in the distance at all points of the compass. Soon, green threads crisscrossed the landscape. Once, a fast moving storm popped up over the high point of land to the west, dispensing a thorough soaking to both Evan’s group and Thomkin’s command.

It was following this second downpour that animals first made their presence known at the main camp. In size and appearance they resembled terrestrial rabbits, and were obviously herbivorous in nature. The men were astonished at the rapidity with which they appeared. Some of the soldiers assumed the animals must have hidden burrows from which they emerged. Others argued that the animals were migratory, constantly on the move, following the thunderstorms and their life giving moisture. Still others felt that they came from the clouds, that they were part and parcel of the rainfall.

By the end of the first week, both camps were complete and operational. The men were synthesizing foodstuffs, pumping water from the underground aquifer, and tapping into the fuel sources the planet offered in abundance.

During that time, the plant life that had been succored by the first rainstorm had begun to wither. The rabbit-like animals vanished as soon as the vegetation lost its lustrous green coloring. It was only a matter of time, however, before another storm swooped down and nourished both life forms back into existence.

Up to this time, the main camp had received more precipitation than the tactical outpost. Therefore, Captain Evans expressed no surprise as, one evening, yet another cloud formation set course for Thomkin’s camp.

“Looks like they’re in for another soaking, sir,” remarked the sentry.

Evans pried his eyes from the advancing storm and glanced at the guard. He was one of about a dozen recruits fresh from training that had joined the company a month ago. Evans directed his attention back to the caliginous mass coming out of the south, and took a drag on the cigarette dangling precariously from the corner of this mouth.

“Yes indeed,” was Evan’s only response.

“This one’s coming from the south. That doesn’t happen too often,” the sentry observed.

It was dark by now, and the lights in both camps began winking to life. The approaching thunderhead devoured the stars as it continued on its inexorable course.

“This one’s moving a lot slower than most of them.”

The sentry’s comment did not elicit a response from Evans. The glowing cigarette the only proof of his presence.

After what seemed like a lifetime, the meteorological juggernaut cloaked the main camp in its murky maw.

“Wow!  They’re really getting whacked this time,” the sentry murmured under his breath.

After perhaps a minute had passed, Evans spied an emergency beacon pierce the gloom, followed a few seconds later by an obnoxious braying noise signaling a security breach. Evans bolted into the nearby duty shed and addressed himself to the officer of the day sitting nonchalantly behind the desk.

“Lieutenant Wilkins, deploy Stanton and the fast reaction team immediately to the main base. There’s been a security breach.”

“Affirmative, sir.”

Evans was out the door and on his way to the communications center before the startled lieutenant had finished speaking. As soon as he entered the communications room he could hear the sounds of battle coming from his besieged counterparts.

A confusion of sounds assaulted him in a staccato-like fashion. Men shouting orders and warnings, screams from both the living and the dying, alarm horns, rifle fire, all fused into an unintelligible Babel. The communications officer stared at Evans, mouth open, eyes distended.

“What the hell’s going on Captain?  I was just contacted by the main base. They were telling me there’d been a security breach of unknown origin. I was waiting for some more information when all of a sudden everything shifts into chaos.”

Before Evans could respond, a coherent voice emerged from the pandemonium emanating from the panel.

“Outpost Alpha, this is Homestead. We’re under attack, do you copy?”

The man sounded perilously close to panicking.

“Homestead, this is Alpha, we copy. Specify nature of enemy.”

A brief pause, as if the speaker were unsure of what to say. When he resumed talking, his answers were short and rapid, without embellishment, like automatic rifle fire.

“Approximately man sized, extremely dark coloring, red eyes. They…I don’t…can’t tell if they have hair, scales, feathers. Extremely quick, agile…powerful. Claws and…maybe…what looks like a beak for ripping flesh.”

The man’s comments were punctuated with the concussive thud of an explosion, quickly followed by the tortured screech of deforming metal.

“Are your weapons effective?” Evans asked breathlessly.

No response from the soldier, only the tinkling of shattered glass cascading onto a tiled floor.

“I say again Homestead, are your weapons effective?” Evans said.

“Affirmative. But they’re so fast…they…took us completely by surprise. We still don’t know how they got inside the camp. We weren’t aware of them until we happened to see them on the monitors, running around the compound attacking the guards. It’s almost as if they came down with the rain. Watch out Dawson!  They’re coming up through the floor tiles!”

A shotgun barked twice in response.

“Where’s Major Thomkins?” Evans asked.

“Block that door!  What?  Well…use that cabinet!  Then get some help…just get it done!”

“I say again Homestead, where’s Major Thomkins?” Evans demanded.

“Dead.”

Evans went silent for a moment as he digested that bit of information.

“Hang on, Homestead, the fast reaction team is on the way,” Evans urged. “How many casualties?”

“Unknown. Because of the nature of the attack, we had no chance…damn it Corporal, concentrate some fire on the head of that corridor!  We had no chance to form a unified resistance. We were broken up into isolated pockets. For all I know everyone’s dead but us.”

“What’s your current location?” Evans inquired.

“We’re in the central control room…but…”

Evans waited for the man to continue. After a few seconds had elapsed, he felt compelled to prompt a response.

“Homestead, please repeat last transmission. Homestead, please…”

“…running low on ammunition. This is…oh hell…this is it…time’s run out…” Came the despairing reply amid a flurry of background noise.

“What was that Homestead?  Please repeat, over.”

Suddenly, another voice cut into the conversation.

“Captain, this is Lieutenant Stanton. We’re about fifty yards from the main gate. I’m implementing contingency plan Sierra Niner, over.”

“Homestead, did you copy that?”  Evans asked hurriedly. Only grunting and ripping sounds greeted him. “I say again Homestead, the fast reaction team is in position, do you copy?”

The horn still wailed as Stanton and his detachment methodically worked their way through the camp. Numerous body parts, both human and alien, were scattered around the compound. The rain, reduced to a steady drizzling, continued.

“Lieutenant!”  Hissed a soldier.

Stanton hurried over to the man’s position.

“What is it Corporal?”

“Look sir,” he said, simultaneously pointing at a severed hand on the ground.

Stanton immediately recognized Thomkin’s West Point class ring. Stanton motioned to a nearby junction box and drew a line across his throat. The soldier nodded, scurried over to the junction box, opened it and pulled a wire loose from its connection. The camp was encased in an unnerving silence. Stanton reached down and picked up an arm covered with black scales. Three claws, five inches long, extended from the hand.

“At least they didn’t go down without a fight,” he commented morbidly.

After the entire camp had been thoroughly searched, Stanton reported to Evans.

“Captain Evans, this is Lieutenant Stanton, over.”

“Go ahead, Lieutenant,” Evans immediately replied.

“Sir, there are no intact corpses here, only body parts. It looks as though the aliens were feasting on their dead as well as our own.”

Evans fought down an urge to vomit.

“Survivors?”

“None inside the camp perimeter, sir.”

“What about the possibility that some of our people were taken prisoners?”

“Not likely, sir.”

Evans grew lightheaded. One hundred and fifty men snuffed out in the wink of an eye.

“How did they get inside the compound?”

“Sir, we’ve made a complete circuit of the camp and we can find no point of entry. Point of egress was the back gate. There are a massive amount of tracks leading out, but no tracks leading into camp.”

Evans released a sigh.

“Very well. Sit tight Lieutenant, I’m coming out to join you.”

Evans ordered a detail of men to place a thick wire mesh over the entire compound. It had become obvious that the rain and the creatures were somehow connected. Evans even entertained the notion that the creatures had actually descended with the rain. Should this be the case, he hoped the wire mesh screening would keep the creatures outside of the outpost. In addition, Evans sent a communiqué to fleet command apprising them of the situation that existed on the planet.

Evans quickly assembled the accoutrements he felt might be required, and made his way to the base camp. With the assistance of night vision goggles the patrol tracked the alien life forms along the path of the thunderstorm.

When morning began bleaching the sky, the trail petered out and finally disappeared completely. The rainstorm had apparently gained altitude so the water was evaporating before it hit the ground. Soil and rocks were all that greeted the weary crew. Evans called a halt and the men eagerly sought out their canteens. Stanton was scouting out ahead of the rest, looking for tracks, when Evans joined him.

“Opinion, Lieutenant?”

Stanton hesitated before responding.

“It’s as if they…I don’t know…sprouted wings and flew away. I know this sounds nutty sir, but maybe they somehow did come down with the rain, and somehow went back up with it.”

Evans raised an eyebrow by way of response. Stanton continued his explanation.

“Let’s look at the facts.”  He began ticking off the reasons on his fingers. “First, the creatures appeared when it began raining. Second, there is absolutely no trace of them entering the camp, either by tearing holes in the fence or by digging under it. Third, they disappear at precisely the location where the rain stopped.”

Evans was about to comment when one of the men gave a startled cry. Stanton and Evans both rushed over to the group of soldiers that had clotted about their offended comrade.

“I accidentally spilled some water…and…it landed right on top of that rock right there. And then…and that’s when that thing popped right out.”

The man pointed to the ground where one of the rabbit-like creatures was foraging for food.

Evans and Stanton stared at each other in shocked silence. Evans finally mumbled something.

“They were there all along.”

“How’s that, sir?” Stanton said impatiently.

“I said they were there all along.”  Stanton eyed his commanding officer with a look that betrayed his lack of comprehension.

“Don’t you see, Lieutenant?  That’s why there was no evidence of entry at Homestead. The creatures were there from day one. We built the fence around them.”

Stanton’s demeanor underwent a transformation. He finally understood what Evans was implying.

“Then…that also means they didn’t vanish…that means they’re still here.”

But Evans was already peering at the ground, rushing to and fro in a frantic search. He suddenly stopped and motioned for Stanton to join him. At Evan’s feet was a rock the size of a basketball. Within the rock was a patch of cloth from a uniform.

“Yes Lieutenant, they’re still here,” Evans said morosely.

“But why…I don’t see it Captain,” Stanton stuttered. “Why don’t they appear every time it rains?”

“Apparently on this planet, nature has finely tuned the lifecycles of its inhabitants. When the rainy season first begins, only the vegetation appears. This provides the food for the rabbits that will come later. Somehow…somehow the rabbits know to remain dormant until a second or third rain. They aren’t…actuated until there is a sufficient supply of food.”

“And the larger creatures…” Stanton began.

“The same theory can be applied to the larger creatures. Since they’re larger and require more food, they aren’t activated until the third or fourth rainfall, when there will be enough rabbits to feed on.”

Stanton looked in wonderment at the rock and then back at Evans. Evans resumed his musings.

“When the rain stops, the vegetation gradually disappears and the creatures go into a state of hibernation. The moisture leaves their bodies and they shrink, taking on the appearance of rocks.”

Evans, proud of his reasoning abilities, smiled at Stanton. Stanton, however, was looking past Evans and gaping in horror. Evans whirled around. In the direction of the tactical outpost loomed a menacing formation of clouds. Evans was immediately on his wrist communicator.

“Outpost Alpha, this is Evans, do you copy?”

“This is Sergeant Perkins, we read you loud and clear Captain.”

“Is it raining there?” Evans demanded.

“Uh…let me…yes, it’s just beginning, sir,” came the confused reply.

“Listen carefully Sergeant. Every rock in the compound is a potential creature. The transformation will occur if the rock is exposed to water. You need to get those rocks out of the camp, do you understand?”

A short silence ensued, hinting of disbelief.

“Yes sir…Captain. Uh…how do we go about doing that sir?”

Evans was aghast at the absurdity of the question.

“Toss them over the fence!”

“Sir, we’ve got wire mesh securely in place over the entire compound, as per your orders.”

Evans flushed with embarrassment.

“Then keep those rocks dry. Cover them with tarps, put buckets over them, bring them inside if that’s what it takes!”

“Yes, sir.”

Evans turned to Stanton.

“Let’s get going Lieutenant. We’ve got to get back to camp on the double quick.”

Evans and his party kept in contact with Perkins as they proceeded to the tactical outpost. The rocks inside the fence were kept dry by the Herculean efforts of Perkins and his men. The rocks outside the fence underwent the expected transformation. The minefield blasted a goodly portion of the aliens to assorted bits and pieces. Most of the remaining creatures were slaughtered by well-directed rifle fire as they attempted to scale the fence or dig their way under it with their claws. Evans surveyed the aftermath as he trudged up the slope. Perkins met him at the main gate.

“Well executed, Sergeant!”  Evans congratulated his subordinate.

“Thank you, sir.”

Evans turned to Stanton.

“I’ll contact fleet headquarters and inform them of our status. You and the men get cleaned up and then grab a hot meal.”

“Yes sir,” Stanton acknowledged.

“I’ll be in the communications center, Sergeant. Please see to the reseeding of the minefield.”

“Right away, Captain.”

Evans updated Admiral Burke on the situation. Burke, in turn, issued a modified mission task. Evans then called a meeting of his staff in order to convey the revised plan to his subordinates. As soon as the men were seated, Evans began.

“Gentlemen, it has been decided that we will maintain our position here on the planet by creating a security zone around both the base camp and the tactical outpost. Utilizing our heavy construction equipment we will remove the top few inches of soil, along with every rock, or what passes for a rock, within a radius of two hundred yards. The new security perimeter will be composed of an extensive minefield, ditch, fence, and roving patrols.”

Evans began passing out folders to the men present.

“These are your individual orders. We will initiate operations at first light tomorrow.”

The men scanned the documents before them. When Evans determined that each man understood his specific role in the mission, he dismissed the meeting.

The subsequent morning found the bulldozers working out from the center of the camp in an ever-widening spiral. They doggedly scraped off the upper layer of sand, along with the imbedded flora and fauna, and placed the aggregate into trucks. The trucks, in turn, placed their burden at a distance of one mile from the camp.

As the clearing operations at the base camp wound down, the bulldozers clanked back to their shelters. One operator, weary from a day of toil, decided to take the most direct route back to camp rather than the path the engineers had intended all vehicles to travel. A drop of sweat rolled down from a furrowed brow and entered his left eye. Reacting to the salt in the sweat, he closed his eyes tightly. At the same moment, the bulldozer straddled the main water line as it emerged from the ground. Had the blade of the bulldozer been elevated five additional inches, it would have passed cleanly over the valve. As it was, the blade ripped open the line and a geyser shot into the air.

The operator cursed vehemently and stopped his machine. He immediately called for a repair crew and watched, red faced, as the water began flowing down a gentle slope. The stream continued down the gradient where eventually it was focused, by a subtle fold in the landscape, into a rivulet. The flow proceeded to the perimeter of the encampment where it began to pool in a shallow depression.

Before the men could repair the break in the water line, hundreds of gallons had collected in the depression, turning it into a pond. At the center of the pond, sat what appeared to be a rock, perhaps five feet in diameter.

Edward T. May graduated from the University of Colorado in 1981 with a B. S. degree in Aerospace Engineering. After twelve years in the engineering profession he felt a change was in order and has since become a substitute teacher and writer. His stories broach a variety of genres including science fiction, horror, mystery and fantasy. He is the author of Bridge of Sighs and Other Stories and Come October… Both books are available from iuniverse.com.

Email: Edward T. May

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