The Transport

Chapter Eight - HERBERT

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The thrashing subsided and Carling swam groggily in the now reddish fluid. Herbert hoped that the injuries of his leader were not too serious, as Carling would need his strength for the coming thirty-six hours.

Herbert went over to the strewn syringes on the floor, searched among all the broken stuff, found an undamaged one and injected it into Carling's arm. The first roofie shot was disabled and the second shot with a stimulant brought the host around. And indeed, after two minutes Carling had his eyes open and after five minutes climbed slowly out of the bathtub by himself, shivering from the cold and the shock. Thin bands of blood ran down his legs. Herbert handed him a towel.

"Shit, that hurts!" Carling groaned and gently dried himself between the legs. "I almost forgot how inconvenient these hosts can be."

"It's been a long time, Supreme Commander, welcome back!" Herbert said. He was less worried now. The first conversion always was the most crucial one, as the organizer had to run things alone. After that, with four hands, things got considerably easier.

"Not a very robust species," Carling complained. He was dried up now, still naked, and started to flex his muscles, move his limbs and roll his head. He closed and opened his fingers, guest and host acquainting each other.

"You are still bleeding, Supreme Commander." Herbert fetched another towel and a diaper from the pack in the corner, and Carling cleaned up again, slipped into the diaper and dressed himself.

"We are in time?" Carling asked.

"Yes, all good," Herbert assured him. "You will ask senior management next?"

Carling nodded. "That's the plan, cut off the head." He checked his appearance. "Looking good?"

I should have installed a mirror, Herbert thought. "The real deal. The diaper's bulk shows underneath your Chinos if you look closely. And your host's gait might have changed. But that can't be helped; better than a bloody spot between your legs. Don't forget to check for leakage and change the diaper after some hours." He moved to another table and handed Carling blister packs of over-the-counter medications against pain, inflammation, and fever. "Take two of each now, and one more every six hours. Otherwise you might get too distracted by your injuries."

Carling swallowed and pocketed the reserve. "Are we good on syringes after the mess?"

"Didn't do a count, yet, but we might need to improvise for some conversions. For the rest of the day we should be okay. Tomorrow morning will be harder."

His commander did not frown, but he corrected his posture, which Herbert interpreted as unhappiness. "Lead me to the weapons," Carling asked.

"Commander, shouldn't you get on the way to fetch the next host?"

Carling stared Herbert down. "Your Supreme Commander has given you an order."

Herbert swallowed his flaring annoyance and walked to the door leading deeper into the lab. This whole chain of command thing was something to get used to after such a long time on his own. He opened another door further down, leading to a third connected room. Boxes over boxes of equipment were stapled along the wall. Herbert moved from stack to stack, opening each top-box. "TAC30 machine pistols for closer combat, all with range extenders, suppression kits, and extra-large magazines. Two 50 mil. long-distance rifles. My predecessor sighted them in, twenty years ago. They need some prolonged training; we might have time to train after the takeover. Fifty attack rifles, Heckler HK416, laser sight, low light amplifier, special armor-penetrating ammunition. This will be the weapon of choice for the non-trained staff."

"The special material?"

Without a word, Herbert opened another oversized box and stood back. The deadly load lay before the men.

Carling smiled. "Satisfactory. Crude, though, throwing metal and explosives through the air by burning chemical ingredients?"

Herbert shrugged. "But efficient. Aptly called Javelin. Almost no training needed. Point, have the electronics acquire the target, and shoot. Works well with our host's spatial vision and motor skills."

"And the Blanket? Fully charged?"

"Ready to use. Seventy earth years does nothing to the energy crystals." Herbert pointed at the last item in the room. A box, about the size of a funeral casket, made of what looked like silvery brushed metal. Carling touched the lid and a few seconds later, some metallic icons flashed on the surface. He pressed a diagnostics icon and various additional symbols appeared. "Very well. We should put it on the roof for optimal effect."

"That is the plan, Supreme Commander," Herbert agreed. Sometimes bosses enjoyed stating the obvious and repeat standard procedure as their own decision. Herbert had seen it among humans, too. Maybe Carling's host already influenced the Supreme Commander more than expected?

"Well, I should go now. Daryl is next?" Carling asked.

"Yes. I'll clean up this mess and prepare the next conversion." Herbert waved at the syringe mess on the floor.

Carling walked towards the door, bouncing with each step, stretching his arms, doing some mock boxing swings. He turned back to Herbert. "Not so bad, such an upright body. Two hands always free for other activities. Great overview, too."

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Body snatchers! Who had guessed? Ugly business.