The Assault
Earth - The Republic of Ireland - 2002
The Cast
Mandy, Jon, Grace, Prime, Temper
Jon and Grace walked slowly across the stepping stones in the stream. This silly game was Mandy’s latest invention. She stood on a small hillock throwing pinecones to try and unbalance them.
‘You’ve got to stand one-legged on each stone for the count of five. First to step into the water is out and then we swap over,’ Mandy ordered.
Grace, as usual, took the game very seriously, and with excellent balance never wavered under the barrage of cones. Jon, however, succumbed when he turned to Mandy to moan about the number of cones thrown at him and received a direct hit right on his forehead. They both got to the far side, laughing about his wet feet, with Mandy dancing about on the small hill in mock victory.
Time stopped, and Grace froze. A voice in her head said, “Tauriar, quickly, stretch the moment. I cannot hold it for you much longer from here.”
Grace’s reaction was instantaneous. “I’ve done it, taking over.”
Everything appeared to be dead still. She took control of the time acceleration bubble that Prime had initially created from the hall.
“Find the danger, Tauriar.”
The Princess looked around and spotted the only object moving. “It's a small missile, a dart—moving fast. I have about... twenty seconds.”
“AM Dart, seeking your DNA. You’ve trained for this. Your brooch! Throw it into its path.”
“But, they’ll discover my identity.... no time.”
She clutched at the brooch and threw it out of the bubble. It stopped just outside and hovered there, now in regular time. Because the holo transmitter and skin modifier were embedded in the brooch, she reverted to her natural self. But it also contained a strand of her DNA—that gave her hope. She only had about ten seconds to get away from the brooch and scoop up the other two. She stepped back so that the bubble engulfed Jon. He found himself facing a slightly distorted and blue-skinned version of Grace. She grabbed his arm. ‘Run!’
She half led and half dragged Jon across the shallow stream in the direction of a stationary Mandy. ‘Grab her,’ she shouted as they reached the top of the small mound and the bubble engulfed her as well. They fell to the far side of the mound as the bubble collapsed; Grace’s concentration had failed. The crack of the dart behind them filled the air. The displacement of air accelerating past them nearly lifted them off the ground. They all reached helplessly for something to cling to.
A moment later all was quiet.
The three children were lying in a heap. One rather blue Vercetian and two rather astonished humans.
The children untangled themselves. There was a tense silence while they looked at each other, trying to assess what had happened. Jon and Mandy gaped at Grace. Was it Grace? A slimmer Grace in a tight-fitting black jumpsuit. And she was blue.
Then they all started talking at once.
‘What was all that about? I was dancing on the hill, and then I’m in a ditch with, with a blue person!’ Amanda exclaimed.
‘Please... I’m sorry. Don’t stop being my friend. I wanted to tell you.’ Grace was almost in tears and speaking in broken English.
‘Wow! How cool is this?’ Jon looked around in delight. ‘An alien. Explosions! What’s going on?’
Before any of them could answer, Peter and Krankel arrived and took a defensive stance, facing away from Grace. Peter had a strange weapon, and held it up in a protective manner. Krankel, head low and hackles raised, growled menacingly: both were looking for an unknown foe. Within seconds, Gordon and Helen appeared, with weapons. They made a protective ring around the children.
Within thirty seconds everyone was there.
Ann and George were hugging Amanda. Mr and Mrs Shaw were embracing Grace. Douglas Faulkner had both hands on Jon’s shoulders looking closely into his eyes for signs of any adverse effects. William had joined Peter, Gordon, and Helen, now moving away from everyone in ever increasing circles, securing the site. It was twenty minutes before it all began to settle down. With everyone accounted for and no sign of an intruder, they all headed for the hall. Helen got back to finishing the work on the security system. William, Peter, and Gordon remained outside until the security system was back up. Everyone else gathered in the day lounge, except Mr and Mrs Shaw, who went to prepare tea and some food.
Douglas accessed a computer that appeared out of nowhere. His hand glided over what looked like a mouse pad, and a holographic image appeared and displayed a small three-dimensional object. Within moments, he was able to give Grace another brooch. She clipped it on and touched it, reverting to her human form, the black jumpsuit replaced with jeans and a blue tee shirt.
Jon and Amanda watched in awe at the transformation. Soon they sat next to her and started whispering and giggling. Jon’s hand was within a few centimetres of Grace’s cheek, and he was asking if her facial changes were real or some illusion. Mandy couldn’t help but admire the brooch, asking questions about it. Grace was answering Jon. ‘Solid, but not real,’ she said, and moved his hand closer so that he could feel it. She turned so that Mandy’s already advancing finger could touch the brooch. Zap. She was Vercetian again. Jon and Mandy jumped back at the sight of Grace in her alien guise. Then all three burst into laughter—quite uncontrolled—causing everyone in the room to stop and stare, and after a moment, the tension lifted markedly, dissipated by the innocence of youth.
But for one of the group, the torment remained. Failure combined with utter relief.
Bala Prime sat with Bala Temper in their private quarters. With brooches deactivated they no longer played the roles of Squire and Lady Faulkner. They were once again Team Leader and Cultural Instructor to Tauriar—the two senior members of the Life Team.
‘I nearly missed it, Temper. If it had happened a few moments earlier, I would have been helping Triquo Rosa with the problem she was having accessing the shield protocols. The Princess might have been killed, and I would have failed.’
‘Well, she wasn’t, Prime. You sensed the danger in time, and Tauriar stayed calm and remembered everything we taught her, which, for a Royal of her age, shows excellent progress. She will make an exceptional High Councillor one day,’ said Temper.
‘Yes, well, what we do know is that we have a traitor within our team, and with the exclusion of Seca Rosa, you and myself, it could have been anyone. And with the artificial intelligence inactive, we have no way of investigating.’ Prime was deep in concentration. ‘The threat will always be with us.’ He pulled up the data page on his implant viewer and pasted it to the adjacent wall. He knew this information by heart, but somehow it helped to see it in the written form. Perhaps there was a hidden clue somewhere. Who could it be?
Life Team:
- Princess Tauriar (birth name Manjena). Grace, daughter of Squire and Lady Faulkner
- Bala Prime - Life Team Leader. Squire Douglas Faulkner
- Bala Temper - Cultural Instructor. Lady Gwyneth Faulkner
- Bala Soff - Educational Instructor. James Bunter - Tutor
- Bala Campazee - Physical Instructor. Katie Thorpe - Tutor
- Dom Seca - Chief of Security, Life Team. William Smith - Accountant
- Seca Jobe - Pilot and security. Peter - Gardener
- Taur-Mao - Manjena’s birth mother. Mrs Joan Shaw - Housekeeper
- Taur-Dao - Manjena’s birth father. Mr Adam Shaw - Butler
Additional Security with Specialities:
- Seca Mika - Engineer. Gordon - Odd job man
- Seca Rosa - Scientist. Helen - Cook
The Life Team had been with Tauriar since her selection at birth, except Dom Seca. He had replaced Thormin Seca eight years ago, when he fell ill with a rare form of cancer that was resisting all treatment. The additional team members had distinguished service records. No one stood out to him. With no hidden clues jumping out at him his concentration wavered momentarily. He remembered the naming process and the job descriptions given to them by the Walkers. He smiled to himself at the naming of Grace, the professor’s favourite Hollywood actress who became a real life princess.
‘Prime. My telepathic abilities are not the best, as you well know. What are you thinking?’
‘Sorry. I see no obvious candidates for our traitor. We are going to have to be much more rigorous with our security.’