A Medal For Mary by Rob Astor (best books to read for self improvement TXT) 📕

A Medal For Mary
By
Rob Astor

Prologue

Maryann dropped to her knees as the New Zimlliaan soldier fired. The car’s gas tank erupted. Spaceships flew overhead, depositing squadrons of the black uniformed aliens on New York’s Manhattan Island. Lynn took a shot at a soldier chasing a civilian on the sidewalk near the center of the battle. Purple bolts of energy cast in green ripped into his back. Pulling away, Lynn and Maryann hid behind burning cars and trash dumpsters. She pulled long yellow hair back into a pony tail.
A street gang pushed past them armed with pipes, knives, and scavenged guns from fallen New Zimlliaans. They faced off with the extraterrestrial enemy with all the fury of a riot. Gunshots echoed far and wide, nearly drowning out the air raid siren bowing and raising in the background.
Maryann aimed her new weapon at a sharpshooter standing on top of a tenement. She was successful. Reinforcements appeared quickly. “You bastards!” Maryann vented.
“C’mon, Maryann!” Lynn led her by the arm, turning a corner. “We gotta get outta here.”
The riot ahead thickened. Smaller New Zimlliaan ships hovering near fired into crowds of advancing people. Some fell. Some froze. A dark shadow fell over them from above the alien reconnaissance craft.
A rectangular New Zimlliaan ship floated over towers, virtually dwarfing everything with its mammoth bulk. It fired. Huge twin purple beams of energy outlined in green slammed into the ground, jolting humans and New Zimlliaans alike. Explosions chewed up pavement and concrete, throwing it up in the air in orange-red bursts.
The New Zimlliaan mothership fired again. Sharp snapping explosions were followed by a whoosh from punctured gas mains. Red pillars of fire rose into the battle filled blue skies. A second wave of blasts from the passing vessel triggered secondary explosions from abandoned vehicles. For all the good it did, Maryann panned her gun along the underside of the ship, repeatedly firing into the charcoal hulk.
A series of continuous blasts from the attacking behemoth neatly sheared off the tops of buildings. Concussions ripped into fragile glass and steel frames, twisting them outward like grotesque blossoms. Like lighted matchsticks stuck in the ground, the tops of buildings crumbled and burned. Lower shots blew out gaping holes or cleaved immaculate silver towers in half, their exquisite bulk lazily falling to the ground, crashing with tremendous force. Indiscriminately, the New Zimlliaan ship fired with hellish rage.
A brilliant purplish-green flash to Maryann’s left got her exclusive attention when a laser blast ripped into and gutted a skyscraper. Fire rained down like napalm on fleeing civilians. “My God, Lynn,” Maryann gasped. The inhumanity. The destruction. “I’ve never seen anything like this.”
The mammoth vessel drifted past their position. Another gas line ruptured where the riots were thickest. Shock waves from explosions caused the side of one brick building to collapse. A small group of people were buried alive. A final shot hit the street dead center, five yards from the savage hoard. Rioters fell to the ground. Some were burned by thermal radiation, others blinded by the white flash. The rest of the crowd dissipated, searching for cover.
Lynn and Maryann bolted for a trash dumpster long overdue for pickup. Styrofoam, plastic bags, lettuce leaves, discarded cans; all decayed and reeked, making their eyes water. A laser blast ricocheted from the dumpster’s edge, melting a hole in the metal. Flames licked at the paint around the molten spot. Papers ignited, some falling after being airlifted by the force of the score. Both noticed a dozen New Zimlliaan soldiers running in their direction!
“Holy shit!” Lynn clutched his gun close. He fired rounds, feeling little relief as three New Zimlliaan soldiers dropped. Who knew moving the rest of my stuff out would get us into the middle of this?
What was left of the street gang swarmed a custom made van with a special laser cannon set in the rear. Their leader fired, cutting two more New Zimlliaans down in the frenzy. A human scream sounded. A young woman was shot in the back. She toppled over the back of the vehicle. A burning abrasion covered blistered flesh.
New Zimlliaan soldiers leaped from fire escape ladders, ambushing the reckless group. In seconds, they recovered their cannon.
Lynn trained his weapon on a hoard of aliens progressing down the street. Two fell. He stopped when some held human prisoners as shields.
Another wave of landing New Zimlliaan ships deposited scarlet uniformed men and women into the heat of battle. They helped gather prisoners, taking them into waiting ships.
Freezing, Maryann’s right arm trembled. The gun clattered from her grasp. Lynn was plowed in the back. He stumbled, confused. Stepping over wreckage, he was captured by New Zimlliaans. “What’s going on?” Lynn demanded, dropping his glasses. He tried to twist free.
“You’re being spared,” a roughened voice answered with a responsive shove from behind a red helmet.
“Why are you attacking? You came to our planet in friendship!” Lynn protested. He felt a hand pull his red hair. Lynn punched out for freedom. Hesitance was met with a gun butt slamming into the base of his skull. Head throbbing, Lynn felt like he’d vomit. Oh God, Lynn suddenly panicked. “Maryann!” He barely saw her blurred form standing as still as a statue amidst the chaos. “Maryann!” Jeanclair, Mary, Alexis... He and several panicked humans were hauled into ships like cattle. “Maryann!” Lynn’s heart sink.
“Kill everyone not being probed,” a New Zimlliaan voice commanded from a megaphone as Lynn’s ship took flight. The saucer-shaped craft disappeared into clouds of smoke. A last long blast of purple and green energy ripped into a nearby building. A wall of brick collapsed into the street, crushing anything attempting to escape certain fate.
* * *
Lynn sat up, rubbing his throbbing head. The room was metal with a bench set into the far wall with a view port where no light entered, and an archway with no door.
Escape? Was it possible? Lynn stood and sprinted. He slammed into an invisible barrier. Bare flesh sizzled, skin blistering. He fell backward to the floor. Lynn regained his feet, massaging his wounds, limping to the window. Beyond, there was nothing but stars. No. Oh God, Maryann…
A black female entered. “Welcome back.”
“Where am I?”
“On board a New Zimlliaan prison barge,” she answered curtly.
“Why?”
“Slave labor.” Lynn touched a bruise on his head, wincing as stabbing poked into his brain. “You’ll be put on a special diet and taken to Ufa in the Gonouf System.”
Lynn lunged at her. She gasped, sidestepped him and quickly took a rectangular device from her belt. Aiming it at Lynn, she touched a button. A purple orb formed around him, crackling with green electricity. His body shook.
The field vanished after a few seconds. Lynn flounced to the deck. “I advise you not to do that again,” the New Zimlliaan female warned. She placed a small tray of food on his bench. “Actions like that are apt to get you killed.” She left.
Lynn regained his feet. He rubbed the back of his skull. Visions of family and friends ran through Lynn’s memory. He wondered if he’d ever see them again. The worst loss was Maryann. He never loved anyone like he loved her. Lynn needed her. She’d help him get through this. She’d comfort him. Making everything better. Lynn hoped she was alive. The last sight of her standing frozen amid battle paralyzed Lynn with dread.
He wanted to get back to her. They had so much to explore in worlds virtual and real. Lynn wanted to kill the New Zimlliaans. He wanted to punch his way out of the metal walls surrounding him. A lump forming in Lynn’s throat. Tears streamed down his cheeks. I’ll miss you. He sat on the metal bench and placed his face into his hands, elbows braced against his legs.

Chapter I

The elaborate computer system was set into the ziggurat’s stone wall. A lone figure twisted a series of dials. There was a stone pyre at the room's far end, perfectly centered among control systems. On the up thrust of rock lay a young woman, completely naked, curly brown hair cascading over her shoulders and down the sides of the platform. She was unconscious. Fluid filled tubes connected to her arm. Well formed bare breasts rose and fell with rhythmic breathing. Her face was expressionless.
The black clad New Zimlliaan Officer smiled slightly as he stole a glance. He touched a glowing red square on his triangular holographic control panel. Above the woman, a huge plant with lush green leaves was lowered. The dorsal side had a single root that moved around.
When the plant rested on her abdomen, the root poked into her chest near the breast bone and burrowed itself in. The watching human figure turned to a holographic screen monitoring her brain waves and those of the plant. The patterns changed. A double set of green lines in perfect unison. He turned back to her, the gargantuan plant fully in place. Tentacles wrapped around her torso and abdomen. The slightest of smiles crossed her face. The New Zimlliaan smiled, activating a few more holographic controls.
“You’ll be a perfect subject,” he said, voice low. He hovered over her youthful face. “The rest of the prisoners brought to me will endure what’s left of their pitiful lives as slaves. Not you my dear. You’re safe from the evils of the world, both Earth and mine. You have nothing to fear here. You might as well be in Paradise.” He snorted slightly, grinning, and to the holographic monitor. Alpha waves grew in strength as the plant interacted with her physiology, forming a pattern separate from normal body functions. “My experiment is already showing success.”
* * *
Fresh cappuccino filled her nostrils as she walked along the brick paved streets between small shops and cafes. The red sun was setting. The distant glow of lights from the Eiffel Tower dotted the purplish-blue horizon. Her heels clicked. Long curly brown hair bounced softly on her shoulders under a raspberry beret matching her dress. Her purse hung over he left shoulder. She carried a bag of fresh baguettes.
In the distance, pedestrians hailed taxies in their native language. Horse drawn carriages transported young lovers into the twilight. A slight breeze gusted, rustling leaves of nearby trees. She loved the way the French pronounced her name as ‘Marie’ instead of ‘Mary’.
A smile turned up the corners of Mary’s painted red lips as she thought of her lover waiting in their suite. He was strong; well built, dashingly handsome, intelligent; everything she ever hoped to find in a man. Mary dreamed of what was waiting for her. Passion made her walk faster.