The Parcel
The tiny spacecraft sped toward the third planet from the sun, the pilot calculating descent angle and velocity, based on the air density readings and the exact destination coordinates. Unfortunately, unbeknownst to the pilot, the tiny vessel was on a collission course with an old, decommissioned satellite that hadn't quite dropped out of orbit yet. The pilot leaned back, set the controls on automatic descent, and went to check on the parcel he was to deliver. As he headed back to his chair, the craft smashed through the satellite, and all hope of control was permanently gone. The pilot's last concious thought as the spaceship stooped toward the planet's surface was "Looks like I won't be getting that raise after all..."
Then... Oblivion.
JUNE 8TH, 1999, SEATTLE, WASHINGTON, 5AM
Charlie Rugebern, Rugburn to his friends, grimaced at the sight of the polaroids presented to him. Several of the pictures showed a spaceship of clearly alien origin, others the badly mangled corpse of the pilot. Since he had joined the XCSA, the eXtraterrestrial Control and Surveillance Agency, he had seen his fair share of ugly scenes, but this was somehow worse, mostly because this was obviously a freak accident, rather than a malign beast's work.
"So, Commander, why do you show me these pictures? The satellite fragments tell the whole story; this poor Ma'raath died in an accident, not by an act of violence. I presume the crash got covered up as per standard procedure, so..."
The Head of the XCSA looked at him across the desk. Charlie didn't know her name; she was always referred as either "The Boss", "Top Brass" or "Commander" whenever her official title (as far as a covert multinational agency can be said to have official titles) was not in use.
"The problem, Agent Rugebern, is that this little courier ship carried a package to one of our research bases. A live organic sample."
"Yeah?"
"The sample was an adolescent scarrek, from the Ceres system. It was not found on the crash site, nor was there any indication of any tampering with the wreck. The critter got away on its own. That was two days ago."
"So my task will be to hunt the little beastie down, and capture it?" "Capturing it will be futile at this point. It fell down in an uninhabited area by the Pennsylvania/New York border. We assume the scarrek's natural instincts will make it seek populated areas."
"This assumption is based on... what?"
"Read the file; your plane leaves in two hours. Check in with Jameson; he'll issue you a weapon and a satcom."
"A weapon? What's my authorization?"
"As of this moment, you're operating on a Code Cyan basis - kill whenever necessary, but only as the final option. With living humans, contact us immediately for specific orders. You're dismissed, Rugebern. Good luck." Rugebern nodded, and left the office, leafing through the file on scarreks as we planned his luggage.
*CONFIDENTIAL MATERIAL - XCSA OPERATIVES ONLY*
Scarreks have yet to be thoroughly studied in an earthlike environment, but there are bits of information that suggest such a venture should be initiated with utmost caution. First, scarreks are affected by oxygen - it triggers a breeding frenzy. Scarreks usually breed with four to six year intervals, provided they find a suitable host; there is a species on their homeworld with remarkable semblances to humans, subdivided into two sexes, where scarreks only have one. When breeding, a scarrek will insert its breeding tentacle into the womb of a female of the humanoid species, planting three fetuses and a symbiote inside her, all sealed within a cocoon. When about one earth-month has passed, the three fetuses will have grown enough to be born, and the victim's belly will be slit open from within, alongside the cocoon, which will serve partially as nutrition for the newborns. This process will not kill the host, as the symbiote will have merged completely with the host at the time, efficiently sealing the hole. By what appears to be telepathic means, the host will later know instantly when one of the three children has been killed, and subsequently the symbiote in her womb will generate a new scarrek, which will be born about a month later. This cycle will continue perpetually until the host dies. Apparently, there seems to be some sort of limit to this process; natural deaths seem excluded from replacements. The reason for this is not known.
Another thing to be noted is that scarreks usually feed after breeding, and then only on fresh meat. It is known from reports from our offworld associates that scarreks tend to bag their own meal. If dealing with a stray scarrek on earth, police reports might be a good place to start.
*EOF*
Rugebern shivered, and entered Jameson's office.
"The Boss said you were to issue..."
Jameson grinned and handed over a package.
"It's all in there, Rugburn. Cellphone-sized satcom with four spare rechargeable batteries, standard survival kit with advanced first aid tools and supercompressed rations, and a Mark V ion disruptor with a dozen spare ammo clips. Have fun."
"A dozen spare clips? Damn; I thought I was going to hunt down an alien, not deliver mail."
"Funny joke, Rugburn. But, a dozen spares is the minimum I will supply an agent with, after that Chernobyl incident."
"Oh, yeah, good call... Never know what one might encounter, eh?"
"So said Hammerton, before he blew up the reactor to vape a berserker Soghe." "Don't remind me... I liked Hammerton; a bit loopy at times, but I liked him."
"I think everyone did... But get going; your plane's leaving soon."
SOMEWHERE IN PENNSYLVANIA, THE DAY BEFORE
The scarrek moved slowly toward the lonely farmhouse it had observed the host-like creature enter. With some satisfaction, it noted that the host-creature seemed to be the sole resident of the construction, aside from what the scarrek gathered to be beasts of burden - over the past two days, it had grown from adolescent to adult, with heightened senses, sharp intellect... and, for some reason it could not figure out, its blood was on fire with the urge to breed. It slowly entered the house through a small ground-level window that had been left ajar, looking around in the basement. The shelves were full of glass jars, bottles and boxes, all labeled in strange, uninterpretable lettering. The scarrek tested all the doors it could find, but they were obviously locked. Sniffing the air, it found that the host-creature visited the room almost every day. It slipped into a dark corner and waited, its burning blood not yet blocking out its calculating abilities.
Anna Sorensen yawned and stretched with the sunrise, absentmindedly scratching her smooth belly before climbing out of bed. She was a pretty package; 5'11" tall, fairly big-breasted and with a cute elfin face that rendered most men speechless. She had several times thought to herself that "Heh, big deal - we won't be talking much, anyway" when she'd gone out to pick up a man. Which was reasonably often; she had a sexual apetite that might be defined as ravenous. Many were the men who had praised themselves as lucky in the evening, and luckier still the next morning, if they managed to get out of the bedroom without more than a few scratches on their backs... Anna stumbled down to the kitchen in nothing but the oversized t-shirt she slept in. She went through the motions of preparing the coffee maker, then looked in the fridge for something that could be chowed down for breakfast. As usual, there was no marmalade left. Muttering quietly to herself, she went to the cellar, pondering to bring up a bottle of her homemade cherry wine, as well. When she reached the shelf, she heard a noise behind her, turned and froze in shock. Before her stood a huge lump of... something; what might resemble a humanoid torso, with tentacles everywhere, and a huge mouth where the stomach should be. A closer look revealed that some of the tentacles seemed different - they had eyes at the end, perpetually scanning the surroundings. One tentacle lashed around her neck, pointing at her face, as she screamed in terror. Then, a slit opened at the end of the tentacle, and a yellowish mist drifted out. A few whiffs, and Anna felt herself growing aroused, as well as fearless. Slowly, she started stroking the tentacle that held her, trying to pull it into her mouth to suck on it. To her disappointment, it pulled away, back to the coiling mass before her. She grinned, a feverish light shining in her eyes, and grabbed a tentacle, guiding it upstairs to her bedroom (flicking off the coffee maker on the way).
Once there, the tentacled creature sent a dozen tentacles in through the openings in her t-shirt, feeling their way around her body, before tearing it to shreds. Anna's full breasts bounced with the motion, and she grinned again, grabbing a tentacle and sucking hard. The tentacle started pushing its way into her throat, matching her rythm, as several others started mauling her breasts. She let out a moan of delight, the sounds making the tentacle in her throat vibrate. She felt something poke at her clit, then a pair of tentacles pulled her legs apart. Opening her eyes slightly, she saw a tentacle, easily twice as thick as any of the others, pointing at her pussy, preparing to enter her. She thrust her hips upward, making contact, and it slid in deep, pulsating and gyrating inside her. She orgasmed wildly, screaming around the proboscis in her mouth, slipping a hand down to massage her clit. Then, she felt another tendril searching around her anus, pushing a half-inch in as soon as it found its target. Anna relaxed and let the tentacle force itself in all the way, now fucking her ass with a rythm that matched the one in her simmering cunt. She humped against the tentacles fucking her, noticing four thick lumps that were moving through the one in her pussy, the first already nudging against her outer lips. A few strokes later, and she felt the first one push its way in, seemingly fitting itself to her width. The tentacle pushed into her womb, forcing it open, and the first lump was placed inside Anna, efficiently attaching itself to her uterine walls. Then, the three others followed, attaching themselves to the first, before a thick goop was sprayed over them all, forming a cocoon in Anna's womb. She orgasmed twice more before the tentacled creature pulled out and started moving away. She lay in bed for a while, basking in the afterglow, smiling blissfully, before getting to her wobbly feet, gently stroking her swelling belly with a warm smile. When she later went outside to find a couple of bulls missing, she shrugged, deeming it unimportant. Meanwhile, the scarrek was on its way to a more densely populated area... namely New York City.
NEW YORK CITY, JUNE 9TH
The scarrek slithered through subway systems, setting stealth as the higher priority. As far as it could figure, it had not yet been observed; its caution had its reward. As it felt the movements in the immediate presence dissipate, it chose to sneak out of the tunnels and up to the populated areas; perhaps find a habitation unit of some sort. Finding a hatch, it moved swiftly through ventilation shafts up into the basement of an apartment complex. There it decided to bide its time... for now.
MEANWHILE
Agent Rugebern cursed under his breath, checking the little wristwatch-sized detector with clear frustration. The old XAL-55 model was way overdue for replacement. Oh, well, at least he was certain the scarrek was presently in the Big Apple. The only question was: Where? And had it had the time to breed yet? Patting his shoulder holster semiconsciously, he continued to pace the streets.
THE APARTMENT COMPLEX
Jennifer Scully was muttering about keeping all her old junk as she stumbled down the basement stairs with a large cardboard box. As she set the box down in a corner, she dimly registered movement between her and the stairs.
"I swear, if Ms. Cazanoux has let Robbie out again, I'll leave him garroted on her doorstep in the morning, elderly lady or not."
She spun angrily, gasping at the sight of the alien creature.
"You're not Robbie..."
A cloud of yellow mist drifted into her face, and everything became a blur, save that before her was the sexiest creature she'd ever seen. A tentacle coiled its way around her arm, sliding inside her sweater in one smooth motion. She moaned softly as it rubbed against her breasts, soon accompanied by a dozen more, writhing around against her bare skin, tearing her clothes away in an explosion of textiles. Falling to her knees, she tried to get even closer to this delicious creature, wanting to feel him in her every cavity. Her prayers were heard; thin tentacles plunged into her mouth and asshole, making her squirm delightfully. Looking past the feeler in her mouth, she saw an amazingly thick proboscis aiming straight at her smooth pussy. Spreading her legs as far as she could, she reached for the thick member, guiding it to where it would serve a purpose. Within minutes, she was writhing ecstatically as the symbiote implant made its way into her womb. By the time the last egg was in place, she had cum twice more, almost sucking the skin off the appendage in her mouth. The scarrek smiled, as far as a scarrek could be said to ever smile... slithering back into the shadows, it watched as Jennifer slowly got up into a sitting position, tracing the outline of her pregnant belly, gasping for air with an enigmatic smile tracing her lips. Then she began making her quiet way back to her apartment, the scarrek climbing upward through the air ducts in the building.
Miriam Cazanoux was lazily scratching Robbie between his ears, the old cat was snoring loudly on her lap. She was hard of hearing, as was Robbie, so neither heard the faint rustle as the scarrek snuck up behind her. In a matter of moments, both the old lady and the cat were gone, dinner for a hungry alien.
JUNE 12TH, APARTMENT COMPLEX
Agent Rugebern flashed his phony credentials to the nauseous-looking young cop at the door, preparing one of the standard agency lies.
"Rugebern, FBI. So, what's so weird about this case the Bureau decide to send me here?"
"Got me, agent. I'd just rather be out of here soon. Little old lady and her cat gone missing, there's some blood, and the sawbones said there was something that seemed to be part of her pacemaker. I don't want to think about it, if you don't mind..."
Rugebern gave the young cop a once-over, grimacing.
"You gonna be okay?"
"Yeah. You might wanna ask the girl next door a few questions, though - weird story, it seems. Neighbours says that girl's usually alone, and now she's several months pregnant overnight, and walking like in a trance all the time. But maybe she saw something."
Rugebern nodded.
"I'll do that. And you ought to check in with the psychiatrist. You don't look too good."
The cop shook his head.
"Sorry, agent. Family don't believe in shrinks. What's sillier than a priest who doesn't believe in the soul?"
"True, I guess..."
Rugebern stepped into the apartment and slipped on a latex glove, casually lifting up a piece of carpet where some blood had been splattered. Getting to his feet again, he looked around and shook his head.
"Nope, any evidence I might have uncovered is long gone now..."
A little kid, about twelve years old, looked up at him.
"Is grandma gonna be okay?"
Rugebern grimaced. This was what he hated the most about cases like this.
"I honestly don't know, kid... but I'm afraid it doesn't look too good. Listen, if I can, I promise I'll bring her back, okay?"
The kid looked sad, but nodded.
"Thanks..."
Crossing the hall, Rugebern knocked on the door marked "Scully". Grinning to himself, he whistled the first few bars of the X-Files theme. Then the door opened and he found himself facing a clearly pregnant young woman.
"Yes?"
"Good day, I'm agent Rugebern from the FBI. I was wondering if you'd seen anything suspicious around here recently? Your neighbour seems to have gone missing, and..."
Jennifer shook her head slowly.
"No... I've been a bit out of it lately... the bump, you know..."
"Ah, I see... congratulations. By the way..."
Rugebern looked closely at his wristwatch and tapped it a few times.
"Do you have the correct time, miss? My watch seems to have..."
"Almost noon, agent. Actually, four minutes to, to be precise."
"Thank you."
She closed the door, and Rugebern headed outside, flicking up his satcom. "Rugebern. I've confirmed its location. Send in a team. We have at least one verified impregnation, as well. Probably more."
"Roger. On the way. Concerning the scarrek, shoot on sight, but try to avoid firing your gun in public."
"Gotcha."
JULY 8TH, XCSA HQ
Charlie Rugebern looked nervously across the desk as the Commander read the report. Finally, she looked up at him.
"Excellent work, Rugebern."
"Thank you, Commander. But..."
"Please, Charlie... call me Maris. Now, I'm sure you've seen enough action for the day, and the scarrek and its offspring is secured, and the poor girls are back to almost full health, it's a wrap. Come, let me buy you lunch..."
"I, uh..."
"Do I need to make that a direct order?"
Rugebern shook his head and rose from the chair, smiling.
"No need... Maris. So, how was YOUR day, anyway?"
As they left the office, the last page of the report slipped from the manilla envelope and onto the floor, face up. Anyone could read what it said.
**XCSI REPORT - CONFIDENTIAL**
...and judging by the scarrek's breeding pattern, this would leave no time for any earlier breedings.
VICTIMS:
Miriam Cazanoux, age 78: DECEASED
John Tully, age 47: DECEASED
Fred Herbert, age 62: DECEASED
Joan Lee, age 74: DECEASED
Anthony Higgins, age 19: DECEASED
Luke Jones, 31: DECEASED
Jennifer Scully, age 24: ALIVE - Received uterine surgery; process too far gone - presently infertile.
Mona Tully, age 38: ALIVE - Received uterine surgery; process too far gone presently infertile.
Jane Herbert, age 22: DECEASED - complications during uterine surgery autopsy revealed acute allergic reaction to anaesthetic.
Anna Lopez, age 19: ALIVE - Received uterine surgery; procedure successful.
Maria Lopez, age 19: ALIVE - Received uterine surgery; procedure successful.
Lisa Jones, age 26: ALIVE - Received uterine surgery; procedure successful.
**EOF**
The end...?