QUENCH (standard:science fiction, 997 words)
Author: Gavin J. Carr	Added: Feb 04 2005	Views/Reads: 3275/2120	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
They could do nothing against the invaders. They had appeared unexpectedly: a fleet of starships one hundred and fifty strong, souls as frigid and empty as the void from which they had come.

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Three men:  Wilburg, a bricklayer before the war; Enrichson, a history
teacher; and himself - John Richards.  And what qualified him to lead 
this motley group?  Three years in the army when he was eighteen.  
Three years as a Steward in the officers' mess followed by twenty as a 
drifter.  Absurd.  The whole thing - simply absurd. 

He stopped and straightened.  Now that the laughter had passed he felt
empty and strangely depressed. 

How could they surrender when the invaders didn't understand the
concept?  They were alien; completely different.  In a year of fighting 
he still didn't know what they wanted or why they came. 

Was it something they had done? reflected Richards.  Some
inconsequential thing that no human would ever think of, but had 
provoked outrage in the invaders?  Or was it just sheer aggression; the 
mindless need to destroy what was different? 

He would never know.  This was the end; he could feel it in his blood;
nerve endings singing to the tune of impending death. 

Enrichson continued punching the keyboard.  ‘If I can get through to the
satellite then we can get a visual of the ship.' 

‘What good will it do?' said Wilburg.  ‘We can only watch.  We can't
stop it.' 

‘Then what's the harm?' said Enrichson.  His face was crimson with
anger, his glasses slipping from his nose, greased by sweat.  ‘Not 
knowing what's happening.  That's the worst bit,' he shouted.  ‘I can 
cope with all the...crap they throw at us.  I just have to know it's 
coming.' 

The screen flickered and they were looking at space.  The picture was
grainy, but they could still make out the gargantuan form of the 
starship moving away from them. 

The ship - by far the largest they had seen - was cone shaped.  There
were no markings, just an expanse of gunmetal grey that appeared to 
stretch on forever. 

As they watched, the widest part of the cone began to change; opening
like the jaws of some predatory creature. 

‘How can it be possible?' Enrichson whispered, awestruck.  ‘Something
that big...The gravitational pull should be enormous!' 

‘Look it's doing something,' said Wilburg. 

The ship's jaws had extended fully now.  The vessel began to manoeuvre
portside, heading towards the sun. 

Richards suddenly realised what he was witnessing.  Of all the horrors
the war had produced this was surely the worst. 

How could they? He thought.  Not just the death of us, but the death of
everything.  They were really going to do it! 

The vessel had completed its turn and inched forward, swallowing,
quenching the sun.  The whole thing was done as easily as a man 
snuffing out a candle flame. 

In the bunker, Richard's laughter echoed off the concrete.  Outside, the
birds were screaming. 

END 


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