Gardens of Destruction
CHAPTER 39

Lieutenant Lipov and Professor Bernstein awoke in their makeshift prison, the barrack turned dungeon, to the quiet aftermath of the battle that had raged before their enforced slumber. The dawn was just beginning to break, casting tentative light over their grim surroundings. They exchanged weary, troubled glances, the weight of their situation pressing down upon them.

“Where’s Patterson?” Professor Bernstein murmured, voicing the concern that plagued both their minds more to break the silence than in hope of an answer.

“He hasn’t been returned here,” Andrey replied, his voice low. “I would’ve heard if anyone had come or gone.”

“What became of the operation, I wonder? The explosions ceased abruptly; could it signify success?” Bernstein clenched his fists, his voice tinged with a mix of hope and dread.

“If only we had some inkling of what transpired,” Andrey shook his head, a longing for home evident in his tone. “I yearn for the day when all of this is behind us, and we can return to our lives.”

“Yes, Andrey, this nightmare must find its end. Once, I might have condemned the thought of destruction over peaceful contact, but now... ask me again, and you might find my opinion much altered,” Bernstein bit his lip, his inner turmoil evident.

Their conversation was abruptly cut off as the door creaked open, admitting a figure into their confined space before closing with a definitive click.

“General!” Bernstein exclaimed, relief and concern mingling in his voice. “We feared for your wellbeing. What has befallen you?”

“Leave him be, can’t you see he’s in no state?” Andrey interjected, noting the general’s haggard appearance.

Patterson looked as though he had been haunted by specters all night. His face, pale and drawn, seemed to age years in moments, and his vacant stare spoke of an internal struggle begging for release.

Andrey gently guided the general to sit on the cot, signaling Bernstein to hold his barrage of questions. A heavy silence filled the room, charged with the tension of unspoken fears and simmering curiosity.

Suddenly, Patterson lifted his head, his gaze meeting theirs with a clarity that pierced the heavy atmosphere. “We’re doomed,” he declared, his voice a mere whisper but heavy with finality.

The silence that followed was profound, a tangible entity in the room, magnifying the weight of his words.

“We’ve failed utterly! The battle is lost!” Patterson’s voice trembled with the enormity of their defeat.

Andrey rubbed his face in disbelief, refusing to accept the dire proclamation.

“How could this be... I thought we had the upper hand,” Bernstein murmured, clinging to a shred of hope that this was some cruel jest.

“Patterson, you’re not hearing me! Everything’s gone to hell!”

Bernstein fell silent, the reality sinking in despite his desperate wish for it to be otherwise.

“Will you tell us what happened?” Andrey asked directly, cutting through the thick atmosphere of despair.

Patterson remained silent for a long moment, his fingers intertwined as if in prayer or deep contemplation.

“Fine, why not!” he burst out suddenly, a bitter resignation in his tone. “There’s no point in secrets anymore, not when everything is crumbling before our very eyes.”

General Patterson began to recount the epic scale of the battle, detailing their attempts to breach the object, the barrage of rockets, the aerial assaults, the infantry and tank charges. He spoke of the unimaginable entities that emerged from the asteroid’s fissures in its defense.

The professor and the Russian hung on the military man’s dry narration, finding it more enthralling than any masterpiece of literature they had ever encountered. As Patterson spun his tale, the sheer impossibility of the creatures described defied their wildest imaginations. The story ended with the hasty retreat of the Secretary of State.

“And the new general?” Professor Bernstein interjected with palpable frustration.

“Yes, Schwarzer is still here. At least he had the decency to withdraw the remaining troops from total annihilation. Fortunately, most of those creatures retreated as well, rather than pursuing us. Some of them scattered... everywhere, really,” Patterson’s voice carried a hint of relief mixed with disbelief.

Andrey, visibly shaken by the narrative, voiced their shared concern, “Is there any chance we’ll be released? What purpose does our detention serve now?”

“I wish I could send you home,” Patterson’s apology was genuine. “But you see the chaos. We’re likely the least of their worries in this pandemonium.”

Professor Bernstein, unable to contain his curiosity, pressed on, “What’s the plan now? It’s clear conventional weapons are ineffective.”

“I’m out of the loop on new strategies, but I suspect they might resort to nuclear or even chemical weapons at some point,” Patterson speculated with a grimace.

“That’s madness!” Bernstein was appalled. “Their physiology might be impervious to our chemicals or viruses. At worst, we might annihilate humanity in our folly.”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself; these are mere rumors. We don’t know their actual plans,” Patterson attempted to assuage their fears.

“The base will be evacuated, da? Aren’t we dangerously close to the battlefield?” Andrey inquired, seeking clarity.

“That’s a pertinent question,” Patterson mused. “I would, if I were in charge. Schwarzer’s ego, or rather, his excess of it, might be the issue.”

“He believes they won’t attack, that they wouldn’t dare venture from their asteroid?” Bernstein raised an eyebrow in disbelief.

“Well, there’s been talk of a non-intervention policy. Some naive souls believe they might just be here to refuel or resupply their ship and will eventually depart,” Patterson shared, skepticism evident in his tone.

“That’s absurd!” Bernstein couldn’t hold back his exasperation.

“I’m no longer sure what to believe,” Patterson admitted with a weary shake of his head.

“General,” Bernstein persisted, “I’d stake my life on the fact that these beings aren’t merely making a pit stop. Considering everything we know about them, and Dr. Petroff’s, Jana’s research, their intent seems clear.”

“And what might that be, Professor?”

“It looks like colonization, General!”

Patterson inhaled deeply, a troubled expression crossing his face. “Bernstein, how I wish you’d be wrong just once. It’s disconcerting how often your predictions come to pass.”

“In this instance, I’d gladly be mistaken,” the professor sighed, the weight of their predicament hanging heavily in the air.

After their conversation and the tea made by the Russian, General Patterson seemed somewhat calmed. He rose from his bed and returned to his favored spot by the window, gazing out at the looming monolith. After a moment of silence, he turned to his companions with a grave look.

“I have something else to share,” he announced, prompting a tense anticipation from the professor and the Russian.

“What they reported to Schwarzer troubles me even more,” Patterson continued, pausing as if struggling with the weight of his words.

“And?” Professor Bernstein urged impatiently.

“I’m almost afraid to imagine it, let alone speak it aloud,” Patterson confessed, meeting their eyes, which mirrored his own fear.

“This... asteroid isn’t the only one,” he revealed, causing an audible gasp from Professor Bernstein.

“What do you mean?” the professor couldn’t help but exclaim.

“Yes, Bernstein, you heard me correctly! Several more objects with similar characteristics have been detected in space, heading this way,” Patterson disclosed, leaving Andrey and the professor exchanging worried glances.

“Do we know... where they might land?” Andrey asked, his voice laced with concern, his thoughts on his family.

“I don’t have details on their trajectories or predicted landing sites,” Patterson admitted.

“Then I must find a way out of here. My family needs me now more than ever,” Andrey declared, a resolve in his voice.

“Easy, Andrey,” the professor tried to calm him. “There’s no immediate danger to them; they’re far away. Consider how long it took for our asteroid to crack open and unleash this chaos. You should be more concerned about your own safety for now. Who knows what will become of us.”

“Yes, you’re right, Professor,” Andrey conceded, his head bowed in resignation. “For now, it seems we have no choice but to remain confined here and await the unknown.”

***

The day passed in a monotonous haze for the prisoners. After their initial fervent discussion about the previous night’s events, conversation dwindled to silence. Drained from a sleepless night, the general soon surrendered to sleep on his bed. The professor and the lieutenant tried to engage in various discussions, but it all felt forced. After a lackluster meal, they too retreated to their beds, joining the softly snoring general in slumber.

Patterson was awakened by a scraping noise from a corner of the room. Bernstein was already sitting up. It was dark outside, and it appeared they had slept through the entire day. But then, what else was there for prisoners in a room with just beds?

The sound originated from Andrey’s corner. Alarmed, the professor turned on the night lamp, and the sight it illuminated intensified his fear. The towering Russian sat on his bed, holding a peculiar, elongated blade in one hand and a whetstone in the other, sharpening the blade as thin threads dangled from one side of the blade to the floor.

“Andrey, you’re not planning on slaughtering us in our sleep, are you?” Patterson half-joked, attempting to lighten the mood, but the professor took it seriously and grew even more anxious.

“Relax, this isn’t for you,” Andrey assured his apprehensive companions. He continued, “I have to get out of here. I need to be with my family. They must be worried, needing someone to protect and care for them. I don’t know about you, but I’m leaving tonight. I can’t stand by idly any longer. I don’t care how many people or no-people I have to eliminate on my way out.”

“Andrey, don’t be rash!” Patterson responded with a fatherly tone. “Have patience. They won’t keep us here forever. We’ll be released soon, trust me.”

“I don’t trust Americans!” Andrey retorted through clenched teeth. “You always mess things up.”

“This time, it’s not our fault, my boy,” Patterson shook his head. “This is beyond us, beyond everyone”

Andrey remained silent, but the professor, driven by curiosity, asked, “What is that in your hands?”

“This,” Andrey admired the blade’s edge, “is the most incredible weapon I’ve ever held.”

“It looks... odd. It’s not from...?”

“Yes, it’s from there! I took it from the asteroid. It saved Davidson’s life. This wonder cuts through those iron men like a hot knife through butter!”

“You should have handed it over upon your return, shouldn’t you? It was supposed to go to your superiors, right?”

“Yes, you’re right. But I have no intention of parting with it now. It’s mine, and I know it will serve me well. I’m looking forward to the fight. The air is starting to smell of blood.”

The others cast him a strange look but made no comment, each lost in their thoughts amidst the unfolding chaos.

The sirens of the base wailed their sonorous warning, slicing through the silence. General Patterson leapt from his bed, tuning into the alarm with a seasoned ear.

“This alarm... it’s real! We’re under attack,” he declared, urgency tightening his voice.

“The devil, what do we do, where can we hide, you’re joking, right?” Professor Bernstein’s voice trembled with a barrage of panicked questions.

“I’m deadly serious. They wouldn’t sound this alarm without cause,” Patterson responded, his tone grave.

Outside, chaos reigned. Soldiers scrambled to their posts, confusion and fear mingling in their shouts. Soon, the distant booms of explosions and gunfire punctuated the air, the sirens’ wail relentless. The roar of aircraft engines followed by more explosions signaled a battle was underway.

“What in the world is happening out there?” Professor Bernstein wondered aloud.

“Don’t you see, Bernstein? The simplest explanation is often correct. We’re being attacked,” Andrey said, his focus unwavering from the metal blade he was honing, seemingly unneeded.

“Perhaps you’re right, Lieutenant. But let’s wait for them to return; then we’ll know for sure,” Patterson suggested, his gaze fixed on the troubled professor.

“Sir,” Andrey replied with a sardonic glance, “I don’t think waiting any longer makes sense. I doubt anyone will return. I believe it’s time we gather our belongings and make our escape while we’re still among the living.”

“Madness, there’s nowhere safer around than the base; where do you propose we go?” the professor protested.

The sounds of battle drew nearer, the explosions more distinct, cries of agony slicing through the air. Patterson sighed deeply.

“He’s right, Joseph,” he said, turning to the ashen-faced professor. “We’re in uncharted waters here; we need to get out before we become casualties of... whatever’s out there. I have no desire to end up strapped to one of those machines inside, transformed by alien grafts.”

Andrey stood, a grim smile playing on his lips, “You’re back to being a true general! I’d be honored to be under your command, however brief it may be.”

“Get up, Bernstein, this isn’t up for debate. Are you with us, or are you staying?” Patterson demanded.

Startled into action, the professor scrambled for his few possessions, his movements frantic.

The screams grew more terrifying, the gunfire more sporadic. “We’re leaving!” Patterson commanded, and Andrey, with a calculated kick, shattered the barrack’s door, the blade-sword ready in his hand.

No guards stood watch. People dashed about in despair, no order in sight. Those not on the front lines seemed to be retreating to the main building, where a makeshift barricade had been erected.

The cause of the terror was clear: numerous transformed beings and other creatures were at the base’s fence. The guards, overwhelmed, retreated toward the main building.

“Find us transport, fast!” Patterson yelled. “We’re getting out of here. Those inside are sealing their fate.”

In the chaos, the trio made their escape, the horrors of the battle a grim backdrop to their flight.

The trio made their escape, commandeering the first vehicle they stumbled upon. General Patterson took the helm, flooring the accelerator toward the gateway now overrun by the hybrids. He mowed down several of the creatures in their path, yet they rose again, undeterred, continuing their march toward the building. Blocking the main gate stood several transformed beings, making it impossible to breach without wrecking the vehicle. At that critical juncture, Andrey exchanged a glance with Patterson and leaped from the jeep. Clutching his blade-sword, he charged toward the adversaries.

Patterson watched in astonishment as the hanging threads from the blade wrapped around Andrey’s arm, embedding into his skin without eliciting even a flinch from him. With a warrior’s cry, Andrey plunged into the fray, his blade piercing one of the creatures before it could react. Despite being outnumbered, Andrey’s combat prowess was unmatched. The transformed beings, unskilled in the art of melee combat, flailed their arm-swords ineffectively as Andrey, fueled by the ferocity of a seasoned warrior, impaled their bio-metallic forms one after another.

But then, a sudden fall. Andrey rose, anger flashing in his eyes, pulling a small blade from his leg. That’s when he saw it—a hybrid in a cloak, launching blades from a distance. With a defiant roar, Andrey charged, deflecting another projectile. The distance closed rapidly, and the cloaked figure, realizing the futility of further shots, braced for hand-to-hand combat. A worthy opponent at last, the hybrid wielded its arm-sword with skill, but Andrey’s veteran instincts prevailed. A deceptive maneuver allowed him to drive his sword into the attacker’s body, and with all his might, he severed the creature’s head.

Their path momentarily cleared, Andrey, limping, leaped into the departing jeep. More blades thudded against the armored vehicle as they sped away from the base, but they were already putting distance between themselves and the chaos. Only then did Andrey allow himself to grimace in pain, clutching his wounded leg. But his groan was cut short by the sight unfolding before them.

The asteroid was unfurling like a colossal umbrella, revealing its inner sanctum. Its crust cracked open, and the shell stretched, illuminated by a gentle light emanating from within. An entire alien world, with its unique flora and fauna, lay bare before those daring enough to look. Professor Bernstein, transfixed by the spectacular vista, whispered a prayer under his breath.

“Forgive me for everything, Lord!”

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