Gray Escape

By Alan VanMeter

This is a Scifi adventure story staring a Gray alien named Quill who is trying to escape from Earth. There is a tiny bit of light adult content, but nothing even close to erotica. Strap yourself in to your acceleration couch, and get ready for a wild ride.                                                   

QIL-3398-1140 likes his friends to call him Quill. Being an android isn't easy in the Milky Way Galaxy, especially an android that likes art. This abnormality catches the attention of his superiors, and fortunately also one of the highest leaders in the known universe, Quill is given a secret mission to carry out, unbeknownst to his direct superiors. They have other plans for him though, on a small developing planet named Earth. There he finds that he is known by the inhabitants merely as a 'Gray.' Quill winds up in the Archuleta Mesa secret base, where he is slated for biological experimentation. Most of his kind would be subjugated by design to follow the insane orders, even unto torture and disassembly, but Quill has other orders preceding any that could be issued to him. Therefore he must escape at all costs.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Alan VanMeter
• Release date: Jan 13, 2017
• ISBN: 9781386782087

Book preview

For all the discounted souls of all the lower life forms.

Table of Contents: (Please note that all chapters are bookmarked.)

Chapter 1:  5

Chapter 2:  35

Chapter 3:  58

Chapter 4:  104

Chapter 5:  159

Chapter 6:  208

Chapter 7:  265

Epilogue:  289

Chapter 1

Our target is just ahead, less than ten fentak distant. It is a truly massive gas giant with a large core consisting of many useful heavy metals, light metals, and other minerals. We of my droth team are to push this beast of a planet from its current orbit, to a much closer orbit around the star. This will strip the super dense atmosphere from it by the action of the solar wind. Then the core can easily be mined for the needed materials.

‘QIL, program auto release of the propulsion mine at the central star-ward Lagrange point.’ Our leader sends to my mind. It still bothers me that he won’t use my nickname, or any of the others either. He insists on using our proper designators. The rest of the crew is on a nickname basis, and I like it that way.

‘Program uploaded to the mine EXC.’ I use his proper designator right back.

‘KOL, set course for that Lagrange point. One third, non-trans dimensional velocity.’ The rest of us hear his thought, as we droth cannot focus our telepathy to a single being, as the self-generated can. If we transmit a thought, it goes to every being within range. Though there are ways to deafen the minds of telepathically weak species.

We are at the destination very soon, and the mine automatically deploys at the proper location. Then EXC gives the order to leave the system’s gravity wells behind at a safe distance, in order to observe the event.

‘Quill, the mine is signaling a perfect aspect. Detonate it now.’ The navigator, Gluk, bypasses the chain of command with his thought.

‘GLU! That is my order alone to issue. You will be reprimanded at the next instance of insubordination.’ EXC’s thoughts are angry. Then he gives the order, ‘QIL, detonate the mine now.’

So I send the signal, and we watch on the monitors as the mine explodes. On the gravitonic imager we see the big explosion of expanding time-space fluid, and the shock wave of this sheds some of the planet’s atmosphere, while it slows the orbital velocity just a bit. Then the time-space fluid behind the planet rushes forward to fill the low pressure area left over from the explosion. This is what really knocks the planet from its stable orbit, and it begins a journey to the close inner system near the star.

‘EXC, the planet’s vector and velocity indicate a new shallow orbit will be obtained, just as planned.’ Gluk’s thoughts are somewhat annoyed.

‘Very well. GLU, plot a course back to Aludra. KOL, initiate course when it’s laid in. I am going to get some much deserved regeneration. EXC is off line.’ He lays back in the acceleration couch, and is instantly in regeneration mode. Good, he won’t hear us now. We can converse.

‘So Quill, how is your project coming along?’ Gluk sends a sincere question.

‘I almost have the fourth dimensional image of the last thousand droths completed. Then I will begin on the final fifth dimensional single great droth head to finish it.’

Kolt sends me a query, ‘I still don’t understand why you waste so much of your regeneration time in this useless pursuit?’

‘I don’t really understand it either friend. I just have this intense need to illustrate something profound.’

‘What? What profundity can you possibly illustrate with your silly multi-dimensional images of us?’

Gluk intercedes for me. ‘It is called art, Kolt. I’m sure even you have heard of that.’

‘Sure, but what use does an android have for art?’

‘I only know that we are more than just androids friend. I feel my life coursing in me, and something else too.’

Kolt laughs. ‘Something else you say. What? Like a soul? You know that they didn’t build you with one of those included, don’t you? Just watch the factory footage of you being assembled again.’

‘Return course plotted and programed.’ Gluk tells Kolt.

‘Affirmative. Stand by for acceleration to first event horizon penetration, in three, two, one...’

We keep accelerating through time, with the exterior of the ship experiencing the fourth temporal dimension, while we are still in the third realm inside. When we break through the next event horizon, the exterior is now in the fifth temporal dimension, while we inside now experience the fourth realm. If it wasn’t for our very special advanced biological design, our bodies would have been torn apart when we penetrated the event horizon on the inside of the ship. We were designed to travel through space-time, and be subject to forces that would annihilate other beings. In essence the stars belong to the droth, though our masters would certainly disagree with that.

The journey is so quick, that there really isn’t sufficient time for regeneration, though EXC stays off line until we are docked at the Legacy station that orbits the star Aludra. Then we are instructed to report for mission debriefing immediately. Right after this, I alone am ordered to report to the Galactic Sector Head’s office. This sounds foreboding, I cannot recall hearing of a droth of my rank being called to a Galactic Sector Head’s office before. This is a first.

As I am led into the large office, I see the Head seated behind a large desk. He is of the Knodhik sequence; our scientists of the highest ability. I am escorted by a member of the Yuiltont sequence, a hunter. On the Head’s desk I see what looks like my multi-dimensional imager.

‘QIL 3398-1140, this was reported to us by one of the droth in your barracks.’ He transmits with imperative. Then he turns it on, and my picture comes to life. ‘What is this?’ He demands.

‘Just some art work of mine, lord.’ I send humility in my thought.

The Head busts out laughing out loud. Something legacy members of any sequence rarely, if ever, do.

‘Art? That is the stupidest thing I have ever heard a droth say, and I have heard some of you say some pretty ignorant things. Art! When do you find time for this pursuit of ignorance QIL?’

‘Sometimes, during regeneration periods.’

‘You will not pursue this useless ambition any further. Is that understood? The other droth find it disturbing, and you need to be regenerating when you are given time to do so!’ He turns the image off, and hands the imager to the hunter. ‘Destroy this.’

‘Affirmative.’ The hunter takes it and nods. They don’t have to address the other self-generated sequences with subjugation, as we do, but that is because we are not of the self-generated. That’s what they always tell us, but I don’t understand the difference. The self-generated are also manufactured, like we are, but not always. Sometimes, albeit rarely, the sequence has the ability to procreate, designed into them.

‘As for you QIL, I am almost tempted to have you disassembled right away.’

I stay with my head down, awaiting my fate. There is never any destiny for a droth, just fate.

‘If you exhibit any further abnormalities, that is exactly what will become of you. Now report for regeneration, and regenerate!’ His mind is very angry.

‘Yes my lord.’ I am escorted from the office with such fine art on all the walls, and everywhere you looked even. It is not fair.

Of course I follow the orders to the letter, and I go-off line to regenerate. The light from the fourth dimension will recharge me mostly. I am not due for solid nutrition intake for several cycles, so I really do need the energy. This next solid consumption will be nutritional fluid only though. My favorite is when are given the fungi that the self-generated grow. That is when I feel most truly alive, and even directly connected to that supreme divine light of the ninth dimension. They only give it to us once every nine solid intake cycles though. I wish it were more often.

Our team’s next mission is to do a seeding cycle on a newly forming world. We will drop pods containing bacteria which will convert CO2 to O2. This is a further seeding of the target planet, the fourteenth so far. Within ten galactic cycles the planet will be seeded with more complex forms of life, and we will see what develops from there. Any promising species may be manipulated to develop technological ability. Planet-forming like this is only done on worlds that don’t develop life on their own, or have very little chance to do so for whatever reasons. We change those circumstances in that event. Why let a perfectly good planet go to waste after all.

The mission is very short, and before the next regeneration cycle even, we return to base. We are not given clearance to dock though, instead we are told to hold position, and accept a Legacy craft to dock with us. It is a long range cruiser, and it dwarfs our tiny ship. They grab us with a tractor beam, and pull us into a small hangar. Next I hear a direct thought sent to me alone.

‘QIL, please exit your craft, and report to me immediately. I am Quadrant Head Bexel, this is a direct summons.’

I immediately do so, knowing that my crew mates will have been told that I am exiting. They send no thoughts, as I leave the ship. A Hunter greets me just inside the hangar, and tells me to follow him.

A Quadrant Head, this can’t be good. I think I am to be disassembled. They are directly under the authority of the four divine self-generated from the second cloud. Who in turn are directly answerable to the divine self-generated Allogenes from the first cloud Himself. That’s only three steps down from the ultimate being. Below the Quadrant Heads you have Sector Heads, Galactic Heads, Galactic Sector Heads, and then System Heads. So to say Bexel is pretty high up in the hierarchy is an understatement.

The hunter leads me through giant sized corridors with doors five meters tall. Then into a very nicely and artfully decorated, gigantic sized office, where a member of the Anunnaki race waits behind a mammoth desk. These are giant beings with wings, and they can shape shift somewhat. They are not of the self-generated, but they obviously hold significant power in the Legacy. Long ago their race was manipulated to evolve into the very powerful beings as I now kneel before.

Rise up young droth. I am not the one who you will bow to today, but I will take you to him. First though, I must ask you one thing QIL. He speaks with his voice, in the universal common language. We saw the report by your Galactic Sector Head. Did you really call the image, art?

Yes. It was art. Until he had it destroyed.

Does that make you sad?

Yes. I had spent a lot of time on it, and it meant something to me.

Interesting QIL. Well let’s not delay our Lord Eleleth any further, shall we? He stands up, and towers so high above me that I feel very insignificant, and he did say Eleleth...didn’t he? One of the four divine self-generated from the second cloud? Maybe he will just squash me. I am sure of it.

We go to a very secure area of the station, and the doors and halls get even bigger. Then through a personal guard of five Anunnaki, we enter his Lord’s elaborate and huge palace. Bexel takes me into a parlor, where Eleleth is sitting on a gigantic golden couch, with thick metallic looking cushions.

‘Come and sit with me Quill, please. Do not fear me, you are in no trouble my friend.’ His incredibly powerful mind eases me.

I see a small plush seat, set up for me no doubt. I step forward and fall on my knees, bowing deeply to him.

‘Please, let’s have none of that nonsense now Quill, have a seat won’t you.’

So I get up and sit in the chair. Eleleth is even half again as tall and huge as Bexel, and his skin is golden. He has the classic features of a god, and his face resembles the features of the Anunnaki. Or maybe it’s the other way around?

‘I have heard that you like art