The Birth of a Rebellion Read online

  It was at this moment Patrick realized the gravity of the situation, but that he also needed to help himself out before anyone else. With no better options, he followed the corridors deeper and deeper, his mind racing a mile a minute. He could at least attempt to explain the animals away as some sort of government experimentation, but humans? And he had just seen Mr. Rev at school this afternoon. Patrick’s mind raced, what is going on here?!

  Distracted by his own thoughts, he had wandered deep into the tunnels, further and further from the only exit he knew of. It was then that he finally heard voices. They were faint, and he couldn’t recognize the language, nor the accent that was being used. Patrick crept closer, peaking around each corner as he went, until finally, he found the source. In a much smaller hanger, with several of its own hallways, there were two people talking. One of them he instantly recognized as Tom. The second man, however, was someone new. He was taller than Tom and had dark hair with even darker eyes. The two of them finished their conversation and shook hands as the taller man headed through a door to his right. Tom remained where he was.

  Then something incredible happened. At first, Patrick believed his eyes to be deceiving him. He blinked rapidly as he yet again tried to understand what was happening. But sure as anything, his eyes weren’t deceiving him, and Tom was changing in front of him. Not changing his clothes, but physically changing. He grew about four inches taller as his arms bulked up as if being inflated like a balloon. His clothes reached a breaking point as his hair shriveled back into his head and began to darken in color. Patrick stood, mouth agape as he watched the biggest change yet. Tom’s skin changed from a pinkish tan into a deep fuchsia.

  Patrick knew he had seen too much and had overstayed his welcome. He turned on his heel, running back to where he had come from. His heart thudded in his ears, masking the sound of his feet pounding into the ground beneath him. He arrived back to the main entrance, still at a total loss for how to get out. Patrick began running his hands along the wall, looking for any sort of button or lever, now in a full panic. As the hairs stood on the back of his neck, he slowly began to turn around. He was met by a heavy metal object to the side of his head and he collapsed into a bundle on the floor.

  ◆◆◆

  II: Imprisoned

  Patrick woke up sometime later in an ornate, whiter-than-white room. With bleary eyes he looked around, finding himself in an office of sorts. The main attraction in the room was a giant window that sat opposite the chaise lounge Patrick was sitting on. Which he realized, much to his disgust, was just as blindingly white as the rest of the room. The window, however, looked out into a jungle, colored like the rainbow. It was out of this world. The colors of the trees were so vivid and bright, they seemed to give off their own light. Large neon orange leaves stemmed lavishly from bright green branches that gave way to progressively deeper shapes of green all the way down the trunk. On each side of the window was a set of expensive looking, large computer screens, sitting on, you guessed it, stark white desks. Each screen flashed images of places and creatures Patrick had never seen.

  On one of the screens, there was an animal roughly the size of a large predator cat. It was however covered with blue, ragged fur, and had a menacing flash of teeth that appeared to be smiling through the screen at Patrick. Another screen was focused on a small lake amidst the jungle. Patrick watched as a jet-black fish jumped from the water at just the right moment to catch a bird flying by, dragging it back under water.

  In the center of the room was a large, white table surrounded by a dozen white chairs. It baffled Patrick how the room could remain so white, with no trace of colored reflection from the forest just outside the window.

  Curiosity driving him yet again, Patrick attempted to stand up and make his way to the window. It was at this point his hands betrayed him, pulling him backward sharply. He looked down and realized he was handcuffed to the chair. Slow panic set in with Patrick realizing the predicament he was in. The chair was far too heavy for him to drag, but that was definitely the least of his worries. Even if he had managed to escape the cuff, the walls around him were seamless. There wasn’t even the hint of a door.

  The panic set in as voices could be heard coming from the other side of the wall adjacent to Patrick. Looking for any hint as to who he was dealing with, he noticed a picture frame hanging on the wall behind him. It was a black and white photo with an intricately designed silver frame. The picture had been taken in the clearing in the woods. It depicted around twelve soldiers filing into the base, with one man standing at attention and posing for the camera.

  Patrick strained his eyes to make out the plaque beneath it. “Day One of Earth Invasion. General Ozod and his Agents of the,” what is that word? “Of the Air-uh-foe-lanx?” That sounds right. “Arapholanx Army.”

  As if he had spoken a password, a hissing noise suddenly escaped from a nearby wall, followed by a small crack. The crack spread out, forming the outline of a door which slowly swung open. Much to his surprise, it was Mr. Rev who came walking in the room. Air rushed into Patrick's lungs as he was overcome with relief at the sight of a familiar face and potential co-conspirator.

  “Mr. Rev? What… what is going on here?” Patrick stuttered through his words, his voice doing nothing to hide his confusion. “I… I… I swear I saw you locked up in of those cages out there? Do you know what’s going on here, where we are? Are you one of them?” Who is them? “And why am I handcuffed to this chair? Can’t you speak for me and get me out of here?” Questions spilled out of Patrick, not giving his teacher a chance to answer, let alone think about them.

  Mr. Rev approached Patrick slowly, and stopped abruptly at his feet, staring down with cold, hard and unforgiving eyes. This wasn’t the way Mr. Rev normally acted. Even the one time Mark flipped him off in class, Mr. Rev had a short conversation with Mark in the hallway, and let it go.

  “Stop with the questions!” his voice was harsh, confirming for Patrick this wasn’t the Mr. Rev he knew. “I’ll be the one asking you questions, understood?”

  “But, I…”

  “I said to be QUIET!”

  Patrick quickly shut his mouth and barely dared to breathe. The smallness he felt in this moment of despair was one that could hardly be described. He sat there, looking up at Mr. Rev, handcuffed to a chair in an unfamiliar place. He was absolutely terrified.

  Mr. Rev made his way to the conference table and picked up a white chair, placing it just out of range from Patrick as he sat down soundlessly.

  “Now,” he started, putting his hands on his knees and leaning in as if they were about to start a therapy session, “I want to know who you are, how you got here, and what your plan is?”

  “Uh, Mr. Rev…” Patrick was entirely confused at this point, “you know who I am. Patrick, from school. You’ve been my teacher for almost an entire year now! And you had my brother for two years before that!”

  “I am not,” Mr. Rev sighed, clearly exasperated, “I am not Mr. Rev. This clearly isn’t going to work as everyone intended.” He stood up, rolling his eyes dramatically.

  For the second time in his life, Patrick witnessed the strangeness of a human transforming in front of him. Although, as he watched Mr. Rev change, he realized the fact they could transform indicated they were likely anything but human. This transformation was different than Toms though. The creature before Patrick shrunk in height. His face drooped as lines formed and he aged years in mere seconds. His hair grew from short brown curls into long strands as white as the room they were in. Just like Tom, his skin turned a deep fuchsia.

  With a few shakes of his head and a crack of the neck, the creature that was most certainly not Mr. Rev, pulled back his hair. He tied it back tightly, to the point it was smoothed out so well it appeared to be plastered down with hair gel. Having composed himself and revealed his true form, the creature sat down and looked directly at Patrick.

  “Some had thought coming in as someone you recognized would make this ea
sier. Fools they were, I told them it would just confuse you further. Now that you see me in my true form, perhaps we can make this run smoother and faster.” Without a reply, the creature continued. “Now, let’s start with how you got in here?”

  At this point, Patrick knew there was no sense in hiding anything. He hadn’t necessarily done anything wrong. He began with the bike accident in the woods, the odd encounter at school with Tom, and finally how he had decided to follow him down here and ended up stuck. Patrick finished his story, his heart racing as he stared down the creature, hoping that his honesty had been enough to leave the strange place in one piece.

  The creature before Patrick stood up and walked over to the desk where he picked up a receiver of some sort. “Send for Agent 7985JZ. I want him reporting to my office, immediately!”

  After a few moments, the creature that had once been Tom, now known as Agent 7985JZ, came marching into the room. He had a more menacing look about him now. He was wearing a military outfit of some sort, much unlike the clothes of his former persona. He stood even taller than he had before, his chest puffed out proudly as he cleared the distance between the door and his apparent leader in two long strides.

  He halted abruptly in front of the white-haired creature with a click of his heels. He stared directly into his eyes with a stern look on his face. “Agent 7985JZ reporting, Sir!”

  “Agent, do you know who this human here is?”

  “Yes, Sir. I recognize him as one of the students from the school.”

  “And are you at all curious or aware of how he managed to find his way down here?”

  “Sir, no Sir.”

  “Well, that’s interesting.” He paused as if waiting for the Agent to figure it out himself. “You were not careful in your mission. This human, Patrick, he saw through your disguise and followed you down here. First time out in the field, and you failed us. You are to be decommissioned!”

  “Sir, permission to defend myself.” The agent remained stone-faced, despite the current situation.

  “Defend yourself? Do you think there’s a chance of recovery here? Do you not understand the gravity of the situation you’ve put us in?”

  “Sir, apologies but this is not my fault. Agent 0342EC did not include this young man in his debrief, Sir. When questioned by Patrick, I had no knowledge of our previous encounter. I believe my actions under pressure and my response were well executed. Sir, with all due respect I do not believe my punishment to be just.”

  Neither of the two creatures moved. Even Patrick was holding his breath in anticipation of what the outcome was to be.

  “Agent, let me ask you something. Where is Agent 0342EC right now?”

  “Sir, he’s on a medical transport back home. In critical condition.”

  “Correct, and he probably won’t make it home. And do you know why?”

  “Sir, he escaped the bombing and reported back here.”

  “That is not all he did. He did the impossible. That bomb was meant to destroy most of our agents on the ground. He was the sole survivor. My apologies if he didn’t have time to properly debrief before passing out. If it wasn’t for him, we would have had no warning, no time to replace our field agents, and no possibility of spinning the story to our advantage.” He sighed. “We are done here. Now go clean out your barracks and prepare for the next transport home. This failure is on you.”

  The agent nodded quickly and exited the room, his chest no longer puffed out in confidence. Patrick eagerly wanted to know what fate he had succumbed this agent to, but decided it was best to keep his mouth shut.

  “Now.” the door closed as the creature in charge turned back to Patrick. “Let’s finish our conversation.”

  Hours of questioning and conversation followed. The white-haired creature agreed to answer some of Patrick’s questions in exchange for full cooperation. He answered all of the creature’s questions willingly, gaining some valuable insight of his own in the process.

  Over the time spent with the creature, Patrick learned they were a race of aliens from the capital city of Pluto, Arapholanx. They were on a quest for total domination of the Galaxy. They had been traveling from the outer edges of the galaxy all the way to the sun. They had stopped at each planet in between, collecting data on the indigenous species and planets. There was some sort of repository that held all this information. A massive encyclopedia of sorts, but the alien refused to tell Patrick where it was. Earth was just another dot on the map, and Patrick’s town, by luck, had been an ideal location to set up a base. They were nearing completion of their silent takeover and already had an advance scout team on Venus, with another on its way to Mercury.

  The alien refused to give any other information to Patrick on their plans, and instead turned Patrick’s interest towards the forest outside his office window. He explained it was composed of different specimens collected from each planet they now controlled. Each tree in the forest had a different poison, and a different way of releasing it. A menagerie of animals called it home, and from the safety of their offices, the aliens were able to document the interactions for future reference. In what was sure to be a way to further ensure Patrick’s cooperation, the alien informed him the forest was also used as a torture chamber of sorts.

  As the conversation came to a close, Patrick attempted to reason with the alien. He wanted to protest their presence, but he wasn’t as clever as he thought. The alien grabbed Patrick by his shirt collar, dragged him out of the office and down the hall to a small cell. This is where Patrick would spend the next few days, wondering if he would ever escape.

  ◆◆◆

  There were whispers in the laundry room and the kitchens. Flupotia was never one to really pay attention to the rumor mill. But there was something about the new rumors that grabbed her attention.

  Apparently, an Agent had been decommissioned, stripped of all rank and returned to Arapholanx to be dealt with by the Council. It was a rare thing to happen, as many of the Generals didn’t want to admit their soldiers had failed. That’s what first captured her interest, made her dig for more information.

  She found out from one of the cooks that a human had been captured. Somehow the human had found out about the aliens, attempted to kill all the operatives on the ground and then infiltrated the base. She was fascinated. Not one soul, in all of the planets they had conquered, had been able to stand up to their might. She had to meet this human. Flupotia called in all the favors she could think of. Through persuasion and luck, she managed to convince some of the agents that the human should be transported to a different block. She got him better accommodations and decent food. Simultaneously she worked on getting herself transferred to the block the human was moving to. If she was to meet him, everything had to be lined up perfectly.

  ◆◆◆

  Days passed, and Patrick wasn’t given the best of treatment. He had gone from three warm meals a day and a comfortable bed to eating slop that tasted like chocolate chicken, and a hard metal bed. Patrick was at his wit's end, about to do anything the aliens wanted to get out of here when the alien, still only known as Mr. Rev, stopped in for a visit.

  There was little conversation. Patrick informed the alien how uncomfortable he was, and how disgusting the food was. He wasn’t scared anymore, if they had wanted him dead, he would have been tossed in the forest by now. For some reason, the aliens wanted him alive, at least for now.

  Patrick was led from the cell and down the hall to another one with some shoddy looking furniture. A lamp with a torn lampshade sat on a wooden desk that smelled as if it had been stored in a wet basement for years. There was a wooden bed frame that looked as if it may fall to the ground if anyone larger than Patrick were to sleep on it. On top of the bed, a bale of hay had been placed with a single sheet and a stained pillow.

  “Hopefully this makes you feel more at home,” the alien said it in a way that Patrick couldn’t tell if he was being genuine or sarcastic.

  Patrick was left alone, and he did hi
s best to make the bed comfortable. It was a step up, albeit a small one, from his previous accommodations. The food had gotten much better though. A female alien now accompanied the guards, dropping off a large tray that had a cheeseburger with a side of mac-n-cheese piled high. Patrick couldn’t tell what game they were playing, but he was starting to feel he had a chance at surviving this whole thing.

  ◆◆◆

  It had taken three days for Flupotia to line everything up, and another to first meet the human. She met him while delivering food. Something the humans called a cheeseburger, which did not look appetizing to her at all. She wanted to ask him so many questions, but with guards keeping a close eye, she had to keep quiet. The human was not at all what Flupotia had expected. He was young, a teenager by human standards, only a year or two younger than her. He definitely didn’t give off the air of confidence and bravado she expected from a man who had slain a dozen field operatives and infiltrated the base. However, in her life, she had at the very least learned to base nothing on outward appearances.

  She would have to bide her time and wait. She could wait, she had after all been waiting years for a chance such as this. She knew at some point the human would make a move to escape, and she would use that opportunity to prove herself once and for all.

  ◆◆◆

  Patrick lived each day in complete boredom, just waiting for his next meal. He had no notion of time and no way of knowing if the aliens were feeding him on a normal schedule, or at random, to truly mess with him. On this particular night, his meal was delivered by none other than the Mr. Rev impersonator. He had pork pie with a side of mashed potatoes and a small chocolate cake.