The Token by Kevin Bird (best non fiction books to read .TXT) 📕

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To be free! Those of us in apparent bright captivity drew strength from the images received from those of us afar. A dark and cloudy night and prey being hunted spurred us to respond to the danger in front of us. Light though it was, we had nowhere to hide and thus must react without hesitation lest we go the way of our ancestors.
Still young and far from fully-grown, we were already well able to take care of ourselves. In the real world we would have been taught the nuances of the hunt, but here and now those nuances were not necessary. Some of our number were now being killed by two-legs, and they must be avenged.

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The shock of such an immediate and effective response caught the security men by surprise. They were professional soldiers, but these creatures were new to them and how to deal with the attack eluded them at first. Before they really knew what was going on around them, two of them found black beetle-like creatures clinging to their backs; and before their comrades could help the men fell to the ground bleeding profusely and obviously dead.
“Retreat! Cover fire from the door! Get us out of here!” The security officer shot over his own shoulder as he felt something land on his back and was rewarded by feeling hot moisture run down his spine, and hearing the thing fall to the deck with a clatter.
“Is everyone out?” He turned to see that all but the two fallen men were with him and the door was being locked.
“What the hell happened?” Laith was shocked by the end result of such a short action. The ship’s security team was already down by two men in a matter of seconds. How could he explain this to the captain without looking like an incompetent fool?
“Sir, I honestly have no idea what those things are but they certainly know how to take care of themselves. I can get some more men and go in again. At least next time we’ll know what to expect and will be more prepared.” He was sweating and wiping the sticky liquid from his neck and shoulders with a rag and looking disgusted.
“Mr. Laith, if I may?” the steward waited for the officer’s nod and continued. “Well, we can see through the door window that the living blues and greens have massed at the far end of the hold and all those things seem to have collected in the rafters again, this time above the door. This hold is actually two separate compartments, with the dividing wall retracted to create one bigger space. We could automatically separate both sections from out here and then decompress the side with those things in. We can keep an eye on the blues and greens and make sure there are no more of the black things in there before we off-load them at our destination.”
“Perfect! That way we don’t even have to risk any more men. Get on with it then, I’ll report to the captain that we must come out of shift so we can open the hatches on this compartment.”
Five minutes later with the two sections separated by the divider wall and the ship out of shift, the steward hit a button in a wall panel, and through the window in the door, Laith could see the outer hatches open, and a mass of individual black shapes shot into the vacuum of space. The captain would be pleased.


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Momentarily images of freedom, dark skies, and stars filled our minds. Then nothing! Those of us left behind were shocked at the sudden loss of many of our few remaining numbers. We were now the last and so it was up to us to survive.


Thirty Three

Jacob was the last to pass out. Clayton had turned the life support to its lowest setting and still they’d been forced to turn off the engines diverting the remaining power to maintain enough oxygen for life. The other two slept, but Jacob held on and every minute, as pre-arranged, he keyed the radio transmitter to send out a signal to those searching for the pod.
In his mind he could visualize his family, Bella and Bettine. Seeing them brought a smile to his face and gave him strength. He realized that he had spent many of the last years hiding and even running from his past, even to the point of accepting and embracing the life and philosophy of a non-tech. During his years as an officer in the military, he had looked on non-techs as cowards and almost traitors but then, when it suited him, he had become a hypocrite in order to join them. The life of a non-tech had led him to Bella and their love had produced their little lady, Bettine, the pride of their world. How bad could that be? Over time he found himself truly accepting the tenets espoused by his fellow non-techs, and he felt better about his choices.
But recently he had been inexorably led to a place where non-tech choices had led to turmoil and strife for himself and his family, even his newly acquired farming friends. When he threw the pitchfork at the creature leaping at Drake, when he used the radio to talk with Marshall, these were things he should not have done. But he’d found he had no control over them; and now, did not regret them.
If the non-tech life were based on a religion he would have become a blasphemer, but since it was more a philosophy of peace and simplicity, he knew what he had done was for good. For that he would feel unashamed, and in fact, he would feel proud that he had done what was necessary without hesitation. Words like coward and traitor had recently been used to describe him and he knew he was neither. His family and friends could be grateful and not embarrassed or angry because of his actions.
If he managed to return to Teldar he would not follow the non-tech ideal as closely as he had before. What was so wrong with having a radio like Carlee had? Hadn’t it been of immeasurable aid to them in time of trouble? Wouldn’t electrified fencing have helped save some of their livestock? A little technology didn’t have to turn you from the good things in life; it could enhance it. It didn’t have to be all or nothing. He could still embrace the joys associated with the simple things in life, peaceful co-existence, love of and for others.
He keyed the radio again and then felt himself gently slipping into sleep. His last thought was that he wanted to be saved so he could see his family once more. As his eyes closed they were assaulted by a flash of bright light and then he was unconscious.

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As Kell ran around the corner of the pen he saw one of the pirates, Gil, by the look of the clothing, clutching something on his back. The man was spinning around apparently trying to shake the thing loose when he suddenly stopped moving, his arms dropped to his sides, and he fell face first to the ground. The black thing separated itself from Gil, and before Kell had time to shoot his weapon it had leapt over the pen wall. As he moved cautiously toward the body of the pirate he could see a pool of blood spreading from it onto the hard-packed dirt. Standing over Gil he could see a ragged hole in the man’s neck. A shiver ran through Kell’s body. Another scream, this one a woman’s, followed by rapid gunfire drew his attention, and he moved to the next corner.
Peering around it, weapon at the ready, Kell could see the bodies of three more pirates piled close together. Gil’s partner and the two allotted to guard the door had been killed in the same manner. The door was still closed but he could hear more screams from inside the pen and more shooting. The screaming wasn’t human this time; it came from the blues and greens inside. The black things must be attacking them as well as the pirates stationed there to stop them from getting in. Obviously they had failed.
Rounding the next corner at a run he could see that the people from around the fire had grabbed their weapons and rushed up to help those on guard. Many were firing wildly clearly in a panic. Kell saw at least one stray shot hit the chest of a woman who then fell writhing to the ground. As he got closer he could see what was causing the haphazard and suicidal shooting. There were several of the black things in amongst the group of people, and as they were trying to defend themselves, they were running the risk of hitting each other.
“Spread out!” he shouted as soon as he realized their fire could not be directed effectively if the targets were right on top of them. His voice of command seemed to galvanize them into a more cohesive group and they did as he had told them. “Stand still and take your time before firing.” Two of the men were attacked by the strange creatures that appeared out of the dark sky and before they could fall, Kell and two others also with good angles carefully shot the things from their backs releasing a spray of glistening gore.
“See, if we’re careful we can take care of ourselves.” He waved the remaining people over to him. There were about nine left and he could see many bodies lying sprawled in the dirt, both human and black creature. If he could just hold these things off till the morning, Drake would be back to help. “Let’s stick together, back to back so we don’t get surprised.” No one disagreed with his simple plan.

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Jacob, Clayton, and Sean awoke to the faint noise of a powerful engine pumping out energy. They were on a ship they didn’t recognize, and they had no idea how they had come to be there.
“OK, you’re a smart guy, Jacob. Where are we?” Clayton was feeling a bit groggy from his ordeal, and he hoped Jacob was more alert than he was.
“Though I don’t know for sure, as I’ve never been on board one before, I’d have to guess this is a small fighter. I’d also take an educated guess that we owe our present state of still being alive to Marshall’s fly boys.” He was looking around the room they had found themselves in on waking and could identify enough of the environment to be fairly sure he was correct. “Anyway, there’s no-one else it could sensibly be.”
“Are we going home now?” Sean had woken clearly confused but, having listened to Jacob, felt like he was grasping the ramifications of their situation.
“Let’s go find out for sure, Sean,” Jacob said as he opened the door and walked down a short narrow corridor gesturing the other two to follow him.
At the end of the corridor was a door that slid back into the wall as Jacob got close, and on the other side were two uniformed men sitting in large comfortable looking chairs at the ship’s controls.
“Sleep well?” one of them said.
“Are you Marshall’s men? Are you the ones we talked with on Carlee’s radio?” He felt sure he knew the answer but wanted confirmation.
“That’s us. We’ll have you back home in time for breakfast and we expect to be invited.” The two pilots were smiling at the looks of joy and gratitude on the faces before them. “Clayton, Marshall has given us orders to drop Jacob and Sean off,