An Introduction to The First

He flew low, just feet above the water’s surface. He wasn’t sure if their radar could pick him up, but it wasn’t worth risking. Even though their surface to air defenses posed no threat to him, it could slow him down; and right now, time was of the essence. He stayed just under the speed of sound, not wanting to trigger the high velocity speed sensors placed on buoys that bobbed intermittently on the ocean's surface. Even still, the water split, rising in twin walls, and pulled upward in the wake of his passing. He pitched his hearing towards his objective, and could hear the increase in the pitch of the voices. The tightening of the vocal cords, and their rapid-fire heartbeats told him that he was running out of time. He would have to risk the attention of their defenses if he was going to make it on time.

With little effort, The First accelerated, blasting past the sound barrier and arching higher into the air. The shoreline was in view, and again he accelerated, hoping that he would be past whatever defenses they might have before they could lock onto him. He heard the air raid sirens blast in the distance, triggering their anti-aircraft weapons. The air around him lit up as tracer fire and flares marked his location. He heard the hypersonic scream of air being split, and felt the pressure wave ahead of the first artillery shell that struck him in the chest. At least in the air he didn’t have to worry about controlling the deflection of it, steering the debris so that it would not hit innocent bystanders. Instead he just let the mortar hit him and explode harmlessly.

He instantly marked the half buried turret that had fired on him, but rather than advance on it, he spun in mid air, his hearing detecting the sounds of approaching jets. The surface to air attack had been meant to keep him busy while the fighters approached from behind, hoping to take him out unaware. He accelerated through the air towards the first fighter, banking left at the last minute as the jet rolled right. He glanced back to track which way it would come at him again, when he realized that the second fighter had taken the opportunity to get a lock on him from his right side and was firing. The atmosphere around him crackled as twin barrel twenty-three millimeter cannons strafed him. Armor piercing, three hundred and twenty gram rounds hit him at over three thousand rounds per minute.

Despite himself, he flinched as the shells bounced off his skin. He turned in the air and accelerated away from the first jet. He listened for the roar of the turbines as the plane accelerated to keep pace with him. He let the craft draw closer and waited until it once again began to lock onto him. Before another barrage of rounds could be unleashed on him, he turned in mid air to face the craft. Flying backwards, he slowed his pace and let the jet fly into him. It was a Jian-10 fighter; designed for air-to-air and air-to-ground fighting. But most of all, it was designed for speed; a flattened silhouette, and extreme aerodynamic profile gave it the ability to achieve supersonic speeds. Unfortunately, the long, sleek nose cone ended in an antennae shaped projectile that easily fit under The First’s powerful arms. As the second jet shot passed them, it looked like The First had simply grabbed the one billion dollar fighter in mid air; much like a rodeo cowboy would wrangle a steer to the ground.

Inertia caused the plane to begin to crumple and tear itself apart as its forward thrust came to a stop. He ripped the nose unit from the body of the now shattered craft, and tore it into two pieces. He turned, spotting the now banking second jet just as the wreckage became a giant fireball around him, and hurled one of the metallic pieces at the circling jet. With the same fluid motion, he swung around and hurled the second piece of the plane at the ground. One piece of shrapnel tore through the second fighter plane, shearing through it like tissue paper. The second hit the base turret with the force of an MX missile, tearing through layers of concrete and steel to destroy the targeting system that ran the ground to air weapons array that had first attacked him.

He sped on, streaking towards his destination. Five miles, and barely seconds later, he zeroed in on what appeared to be a desolate area of desert just outside of large shantytown that was built at the base of a mountain. He dropped from the sky feet first, his landing sending a tremor through the ramshackle constructs that passed for houses. A few children that were kicking a ball in a nearby field stopped to gawk at the imposing figure that fell from the sky.

The First had landed straddling a hatch that had been spray painted the color of the ground around it. Roughly five feet in diameter, there was a circular, iron wheel attached to it that controlled the locking mechanism. He had spotted the imposing brown tank that had rolled up to within fifty feet of the hidden entrance from the air. It would present no threat to him, and he had intended to ignore it, but he realized that while it posed no threat to him, the same could not be said for the throng of children that were now gathering to stare in his direction. He heard the rumbling of the big engines that powered the tank, and the distinctive metal on metal grinding of the cannon swinging around to target him.

The first shot was a direct hit, striking him in his back as he bent to grab the wheel that was bolted onto the latch. The explosion was deafening and he could hear the children scream and begin to run in all directions. He grasped the top of the latch with both hands and wrenched it free from the ground. He held the steel lid in his hands as he turned to face the tank. As casually as one of the children might toss a Frisbee, he threw it at the tank. The lid struck the opening of the cannon, splitting it into pieces as it burrowed through the front of the tank and drove the entire machine backwards and into the ground.

Just as the lid was impacting the tank, The First was already deep within the underground structure, the terror filled voices drawing him to the center of the hidden construct. A two feet thick steel door crashed open under his fist and he walked into the central control room. Ten sets of eyes stared at him, their fear turning to awe.

“Where is it,” he said in perfect Farsi.

No one moved, until a single scientist stepped forward, his hand shaking as he pointed to a grey and black metallic box, about four cubic feet in size.

“What is it,” The First asked.

“It’s an RDD. A Radiological Dispersal Device. A dirty bomb.” Still, none of the other scientists in the room had spoken or moved. “When we realized what it was, that it was armed, we brought it down here, but it won’t matter. From what we can tell, the explosive device inside is only designed to propel the radioactive isotopes inside into the air. The ventilation system in this control area will automatically vent the contaminant outside into the atmosphere. It will―”

“Shut up you fool!” One of the other scientist had found his voice and rushed over to the where they stood looking at the bomb. “This is an agent of the Americans! We will be put to death for even speaking to him―”

“I don’t care,” said the first scientist. “We are dead anyway. When this thing explodes, everyone within twenty-five miles will die a very slow and agonizing death! If he can stop it―”

“I can’t,” said The First. “How long before the detonation?”

The two scientists looked at one another, before the second finally shook his head and moved away, a look of sadness and acceptance flooding his face. He looked at his watch, and laughed. “Just inside of one minute.”

The first scientist swallowed hard and turned to The First. “It wasn’t supposed to be live. I don’t know how it became armed―”

He was cut off as the First stepped forward and picked the box up, and leaped skyward. He flew straight up, blasting effortlessly through tons of concrete and steel that separated the bunker from the outside. He powered through the earth and into the open, accelerating on contact with the air. The sonic boom and scorched air were all that marked his passing. In the blink of an eye he achieved escaper velocity, and within the span of a couple of human heartbeats, he was at the Earth’s upper atmosphere. There he paused his ascent, drawing back one heavily muscled arm to throw the box as hard and as far as he could. It instantly disappeared into the heavens, but he watched it until he saw the detonation, far away from the earth, where the vacuum of space absorbed the radiation, gently scattering it along the solar winds.

The First turned and flew back towards Earth, gently altering his trajectory to take him back to the United States, no longer concerned with the actions of a few madmen bent on genocide. He was confident his latest display would give them something to think about before they again tried perfecting their weapons on their own people.

The underground Bunker was quiet. The ten scientists that had been cowering in fear were all dead. They had been lined up single file against the wall, and shot through the left eye at point blank range.

A tall, older man, with striking white hair stood in the center of the room. He cradled a laptop in one outstretched arm that worked hard to download the data from the array of sensors that were hidden throughout the complex. Two guards stood at attention by the entry, eyes fixed on the thin figure in the room.

“Well that was a mess,” came a voice over the Bluetooth earpiece the man wore in one ear. “Those scientists were some of your brightest. Was it really necessary to waste such talent?”

“They were more than expendable,” he replied.

“Well, at least we know the alien is working with the American government somehow. They are controlling him. But other than that, we have nothing to show for six weeks of research and development. Those isotopes were not cheap you know.”

Oh, I wouldn’t say it was a failure,” said the old man. He smiled as he walked over to where the dirty bomb had been sitting. He looked up at the hole made by The First as he had flown out. Metal and rock shrapnel had rained down onto the spot where he stood. He bent over and picked up a piece of razor sharp alloy. He lifted it carefully and held it up the light. A single drop of blackish fluid was contained on the tip of it. “I wouldn’t say it was a failure at all.”