Alien Soldier

By Donahue B. Silvis

In 1860, a red-bearded trapper, Killian Kilkenny, encounters a Star Warrior from the Sky People, transformed into a Navajo Indian. The two engage in a knife fight and fall to the ground. As they struggle, Killian slashes the Indian's arm. A bluish blood spurts into Killian's eyes and open mouth. The Indian stands up. There's a bright flash of blue light, and the Indian's body disappears. A blue-white ribbon of smoke rises skyward.

Killian becomes ill from ingesting the bluish blood and passes out. When he comes to, he finds he's a soldier in the Army's 1st Cavalry. Killian doesn't know how this has happened or how his wounds self-heal. Even more astonishing to him is his ability to morph into any human form; he's almost immortal.

Killian learns from an old Indian medicine man that when he ingested the blueish blood, he became a Blue alien, and now, an enemy can only kill with fire. Killian knows that he has but one chief nemesis, Lupan, an evil Navajo Blue Warrior who calls Killian Taglito Silaada, which is Navajo, for a red-bearded soldier. Over the next one hundred years, Killian uses his new power to fight in all of America's wars. During this time, the CIA tries to discover who this mysterious person is. 

Over the years, he often encounters Lupan and his evil Navajo alien followers. However, they cannot kill one another. Finally, during the Vietnam War, they meet on the battlefield. With the help of American and local Montagnard soldiers, Killian subdues Lupan and sets him on fire, sending his evil spirit into the heavens.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Donahue B. Silvis
• Release date: Oct 25, 2023
• ISBN: 9781646331062

Donahue B. Silvis

D. B. Silvis lives in Naples, Florida. He is the author of five novels, of various genre, and one illustrated children's book.

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

There was a loud roaring noise in the sky. They looked up and saw a vast wingless bird with silver skin. Glittering in the orange sun, it passed over their heads. It was descending.

Tom Muldoon shouted, What the hell is that Killian?

Damned if I know, Tom, but it sure is big and bright.

It was a fantastic spring day in 1860. The sun was shining in a clear azure sky, and the ground was lightly crusted with light snow from the night before. The two men from western Texas, in their late twenties, had been hunting and trapping beaver in Damon Lake and Bonito Creek in the White Mountains of the New Mexico territory. They were carrying rifles and pelts as they hurried through the woods toward the place; they’d seen the silvery-white flash in the cloudless sky. When they came to a cliff, they lay on the ground and looked down into a valley, where they saw a Navajo Indian encampment. Some of the Indians were doing a sacred dance, while others were bowing to a few short, slightly built, grayish-looking creatures that appeared to be welcoming the large silver bird.

God Almighty, Killian, what’s that silvery thing?

Jesus, I don’t know. I sure ain’t ever seen anything like it before.

It’s the biggest damn bird I ever saw, and it ain’t got any wings—and whatta you suppose those short gray things are?

I’m not sure. They’re awfully weird-looking. They could be animals or, I guess, some kind of people.

Those Indians are gettin’ damn excited. I don’t like this.

I sure don’t cotton to it either, Tom. Let’s get the hell out of here before they see us.

The two buckskinned-dressed trappers stood and quickly started through the woods toward Bonito Creek. After they had walked about a quarter of a mile, they saw four scantily clad Navajo Indians running through the trees toward them. Killian and Tom raised their Hawken rifles, and each got off one shot, killing two of the Indians before the other two, knives in hands, attacked them. The trappers dropped their rifles and pulled out their Bowie scalping knives." The trappers and Indians were fighting hand-to-hand, swinging and slashing the blades at one another. They clashed and wrestled, falling to the ground in a life-or-death struggle. Tom Muldoon killed the Indian he had been fighting, stood up, and turned to look at his friend Killian, who was still rolling on the ground with the other Indian. Tom had a knife sticking in his chest. He stared off into space and fell to the ground, dead.

Killian, fighting fiercely with his strong opponent, was lying on his back. His left arm and hand were severely cut and bleeding. The Indian, who was now on top of him, slashed his knife across Killian’s neck. At the same instant, Killian’s Bowie knife ripped open his attacker’s arm. A silvery bluish fluid gushed from the Indian’s arm. The fluid spilled into Killian’s eyes and mouth. He choked and gagged as he swallowed the ghastly-tasting liquid. He coughed, spat, and rubbed his eyes to remove the stinging fluid blinding him. The Indian stood and was glaring down. Killian was amazed as he watched the Navajo lose all human appearance; their bodies became small and gray. The head was growing more extensive, with abnormally large silvery black eyes. There was a bright flash of blue light, and the body vanished, leaving only a ribbon of blue-white smoke, which ascended into the sky. Killian stared, stunned, as he watched the ascending smoke.

He grabbed his bloody neck. The skin was burning as if it were on fire. However, it had stopped spewing blood. To his amazement, instead of a fresh wound, he felt a long-crusted gash that ran across the entire front of his neck. He became aware of the aching and burning sensation in his left arm and hand; raising his arm, he couldn’t believe what he saw. The deep wounds were healing. He rubbed the skin; there weren’t any scars. It appeared as if there was never a cut. Killian looked around at the surrounding woods as if the answer to this phenomenon was out there.

He rose and went over to Tom Muldoon, knelt, and felt his pulse. His friend was dead. He closed Tom’s eyes and removed the knife from his chest. He walked over to the three dead Indians and slashed the blade across their arms. They all bled red blood, not blue. He was confused; it was as if he were dreaming. However, it was real, and Tom was dead.

He went back to his friend’s body and began to dig a hole. He lowered Tom’s body into the grave. While Killian was covering him with black dirt, he began to feel dizzy and nauseous. He muttered a prayer for his fallen friend and then started through the woods toward Bonito Creek. When he got to the creek, he lay by the edge, splashed water into his face, and thirstily drank. Suddenly, Killian became violently sick. He began to shake, cough, and vomit blood. He tried to stand but fell backward and passed out.

An hour later, a United States Cavalry troop on patrol rode by, dressed in their light blue trousers with the yellow stripe, black boots, dark blue shirts, and black Stetson hats, passed near the creek.

As they did, Killian transformed from a trapper dressed in garments made of buckskin with seams fringed with leather to the Cavalry trooper's uniform.

The patrol troop saw a body lying by the water.

Lieutenant Hiram Liddle stopped the troop. Corporal, go down and check on that trooper.

Yes, sir.

The corporal dismounted and walked down to check on the trooper, wearing a 1st Cavalry soldier’s uniform.

The corporal yelled back to the lieutenant. He’s alive, sir. He’s one of us.

Lieutenant Liddle, a sergeant, and a young medical officer, rode down to the corporal. They dismounted and examined the man on the ground.

It’s strange, sir, the corporal observed. There’s blood all over the ground, but he doesn’t have a scratch on him. He seems to be passed out.

The young medical officer knelt. The corporal’s right. No wounds, but he’s weak.

The sergeant turned to the troop and instructed them to dismount for a break.

Where do you think all this blood came from, sir? asked the corporal.

Lieutenant Liddle thought for a moment. Maybe he had a fight with a Navajo Indian who he killed.

Sir, there’s no dead Indian and no signs he’s been in a struggle, said the sergeant.

And his Spencer rifle hasn’t been fired, added the corporal.

The lieutenant leaned down to take a closer look at the man. He’s wearing the uniform of the 1st Cavalry. Does anyone recognize him?

They all muttered and shook their heads.

I’ve never seen him before, sir, added the sergeant. He’s not one of the men from the fort.

With the help of the corporal, the medical officer splashed water on the man’s face. Then he waved, smelling salt under the man’s nose, but he didn’t stir. It’s baffling. His breathing is fine, but he’s unresponsive. I believe he’s taken a severe blow to the head.

All right, Sergeant, make up a horse litter. We’ll take him to the fort, ordered Lieutenant Liddle.

The sergeant had the men make a litter; they laid the man on it and tied him down before heading toward Fort Defiance. The medical officer rode behind the trash to watch the unconscious man.

Shortly before they entered the fort, Killian woke up. He was bewildered by the US Cavalry uniforms, at the litter and the cavalry uniform he was wearing. He watched as they entered the fort, which consisted of various buildings forming a square. They passed between two buildings and halted in a large open area. The medical officer rode up beside the litter and looked down.

Good, you’re awake. The medical officer dismounted. How do you feel, trooper?

Killian didn’t say anything. He was confused.

What happened to you? Did you get thrown from your horse?

Killian still didn’t answer.

Lieutenant Liddle rode over to them. Can you talk, Trooper?

Yes, answered Killian.

Alright, can you tell us who you are?

I’m thirsty, said Killian.

I’ll bet you are hungry too, said the medical officer as he helped Killian to his feet and handed him a canteen. Killian gulped the water.

What’s your name, Trooper? How’d you get here? asked Lieutenant Liddle.

The medical officer held up his hand. Hold on, Lieutenant. Let’s get him over to the infirmary. I need to have the surgeon, Dr. Earle, check him out. Then you and the captain can ask him all the questions you want.

There’s something strange about this soldier. We need answers.

The medical officer glared. It can wait, Lieutenant, he said forcefully.

The lieutenant nodded and headed off to the captain’s office. The medical officer and Killian walked to the infirmary.

Later that afternoon, Killian was lying in a bed. The young medical officer and Dr. Earle, a rather heavy-set man in his early fifties, stood next to him.

You seem to be a pretty healthy young man. I can’t find anything wrong with you other than the fact you’re weak, said Dr. Earle, smiling.

Killian didn’t respond.

The medical officer told me there was a lot of blood near where you were lying passed out cold. Did your horse get hurt and throw you to the ground? That could account for the blood and your unconsciousness.

I didn’t have a horse, said Killian.

The doctor frowned. You must have had a horse. You’re a soldier. How else could you have gotten here?

I don’t know how I got here or why I’m in a soldier’s uniform.

Dr. Earle shook his head as Captain Ryan and Lieutenant Liddle entered the infirmary. They walked over to Killian’s bed.

How’s the patient doing, Doctor? asked the captain.

Body-wise, he’s darn healthy, but I believe he has a bit of amnesia, Captain.

The captain nodded, acknowledging the doctor’s diagnosis. He looked at Killian.

Do you know who you are and what you’re doing in this area, Trooper?

Killian stared dumbly at the captain and wondered why they kept calling him a trooper.

Can you answer any questions for me? the captain persisted. What is your name, and how did you get here? Were you with anyone?

As the three officers stared down at him, Killian felt dizzy again. He was thinking about his friend who the Indian had killed. Muldoon, he mumbled.

Muldoon. Very well, that’s good. What’s your first name? asked the captain.

Killian, he whispered.

The captain nodded, Killian Muldoon, an Irish lad. Now we’re getting somewhere. Can you tell me how you got here, Killian?

Killian looked up at the captain. This is all very strange to me. He hesitated for a moment. I don’t know how I got here or why I’m wearing this uniform. The last thing I remember is hunting and fighting with an Indian.

See what I mean, Captain? the doctor broke in. It’s a type of amnesia where he can’t remember everything, only bits and pieces of the past. He’s blocked out his memory of military service.

How soon before he remembers everything, Doctor? inquired Lieutenant Liddle.

It could be tomorrow, a month, a year, or never.

That’s something, Doctor. The captain looked at Killian. Trooper, you rest and get well. He patted Killian on the shoulder and motioned Dr. Earle to walk him to the door.

Doctor, we’ll check and see if a Killian Muldoon is missing from another unit. In the meantime, do all you can for him and keep us informed.

The two officers turned and left the infirmary. Killian watched them go. Dr. Earle stepped back over to Killian’s bed.

What’s going to happen now? Can I leave? Killian asked.

No, you’re a sick man. We need to get you healthy and help you regain your memory.

Being a man with a quiet nature and easy-going disposition, Killian didn’t object. He calmly gazed at the doctor and the medical officer as he tried to recall how he had become a soldier and why he was ill. He wondered if it had anything to do with the Indian he’d killed and the unusual silvery-blue fluid, which had gushed into his eyes and mouth.

CHAPTER 2

The Hopi Indians are a tribe whose name means good, peaceful, and wise. The Hopi reservation located at the southern end of the Black Mesa is called the Big Mountain. Their villages, called pueblos, are built of mud and stone and situated on three Mesa tops, a Mesa being a small, isolated flat-top hill with three steep sides. The Hopi Indians believe their land to be sacred.

The Hopi reservation is in the larger Navajo reservation, which occupied the mountains between eastern Arizona, southeastern Utah, and northwestern New Mexico. Being surrounded by the Navajo was a constant source of problems for the Hopi.

The Hopi Indians were friendly with the soldiers at Fort Defiance and often came to trade. It was from them the soldiers came to know about the ways and beliefs of the Indians in the area.

The soldiers learned the Indian nations believed in the Sky People and Star Warriors, referred to as Blues. They prayed to the Star Warriors and thought they descended from the sky to give them knowledge and teach them various skills. Their descriptions of the Sky People and the Star Warriors revealed their small stature, clear grayish skin, and large almond-shaped eyes.

The Hopi who prayed to god was Masan, derived from the Hopi word mas, meaning gray. The Hopi believed that they could see their future through the Sky People—and they knew it was not favorable. One of their prophecies was, Today’s red man is white, and tomorrow’s white man is green.

The Hopis’ conflict with the warlike Navajos was escalating. In 1850, seven Hopi leaders made a trip to Santa Fe, New Mexico, to meet with the agent of Indian Affairs and to request help from the United States government. They wanted protection from the Navajo, who were an Apachean language tribe. The government had complied and, a year later, built Fort Defiance to deal with any threats from the Navajos against the Hopi. It angered the Navajo, as the forts were built on valuable grazing land, which they could no longer use. For the next few years, the regiments engaged in campaigns against the Navajo and Apache. The Hopi, however, had remained friendly with the soldiers and would, from time to time, come to Fort Defiance to trade otter, beaver, fox fur pelts, deer skins, and baskets of corn.

Three days after the creek had found Killian, a few Hopi Indians came to the fort. While the trading was going on, the Hopi medicine man stood staring at the infirmary. Then he walked over and entered the small building. Three soldiers are lying in the beds. The medicine man walked past a broken-legged soldier, another with bandages on his head, before stopping next to Killian’s bed and staring down at him. He bowed and quietly began a sacred dance. Dr. Earle watched for a few moments and then went over to the medicine man. Killian had drawn back and was staring at the Indian with alarm.

Dr. Earle held his hands and ordered the medicine man to stop dancing. He told the Indian he needed to leave, as Killian was sick. The Indian stared at the doctor.

Star Warrior, Man of Sky People. A Blue, a Blue, he repeated over and over while being ushered out of the infirmary.

Dr. Earle had no idea why the medicine man had behaved in that manner. Killian, however, recognized the dance like the one he and his friend Tom Muldoon had seen being performed at the Indian encampment when the silvery bird was landing. He remembered the fight with the Indians, the bluish blood spilling on his face, and the Indian vanishing. He lay back, thinking, what had happened after that encounter? How much time had passed? Had he joined the Army? Was he a soldier? Did he have amnesia, as the doctor said?

Killian stared at the ceiling as he contemplated telling them about seeing the giant bird with metal skin and the Indian bleeding bluish blood before changing form and disappearing. He decided against it. They’d think I was insane. They’d lock me up, and I’d never get out of here. No, it’s best to be a soldier like they say I am and do what they tell me. I won’t tell them my real name is Killian Kilkenny. I’ll be Killian Muldoon.

Days later, Dr. Earle released Killian from the infirmary and put him on light duty.

Killian was assigned to a reconnaissance patrol with Lieutenant Liddle near the end of April. The lieutenant protested, but the captain felt Killian needed to get out of the post, that it might do him some good, maybe even help him remember his past in the military.

Later the following morning, Lieutenant Liddle’s patrol was about four miles from Fort Defiance when they found themselves harassed by six Navajos on horseback. The Indians circled the troop, hollered, and waved their weapons threateningly. Then they rode off, riding toward the woods. Killian and the other troopers chased after them, but as Killian entered the woods, the Indian he chased turned back and leaped on him. The two men tumbled off their horses to the ground. As they rolled on the ground, the Indian got on top of Killian; he raised his knife but didn’t strike.

Why did you chase me? he yelled.

Killian glared up at the angry Navajo. Then he saw his bare arms, which were holding back his assailant. He was no longer wearing his blue uniform. He looked down at his painted chest. He was an Indian. He let go of his attacker, and the Navajo stood up.

Are you a crazy Navajo? the other screamed.

Killian staggered to his feet. He looked at himself.

You talk! the other demanded. Why do you chase me?

Killian didn’t know what to say.

The Indian gave him a shove. You talk!

I’m sick. I don’t know what I’m doing, Killian mumbled.

You need to stay at camp. Not go with us when we attack the fort in two days!

The angry Navajo got up on his pony and rode off.

Killian continued to stare at his body. What’s happening to me? He slowly mounted his pony and started to ride. He didn’t know where he was going. Then he heard the 1st Cavalry bugler blowing assembly. He looked out from the woods and saw the other troopers re-gathering in the open. As Killian rode along the forest edge, he realized he was changing again, this time from an Indian back to a soldier. He stopped and dismounted. His body was shaking, and he threw up. He leaned against his horse. What’s going on? Have I gone mad? His mind raced back to when he’d killed the Indian and the silver-blue fluid that spewed into his eyes and mouth. Clumsily, he took out his knife and slashed his hand. The liquid that came out was not normal red blood. It was a silvery reddish-blue color. Even as he stared at the cut, it began to heal.

Killian felt weak and dizzy. He had to hold onto his McClellan saddle to keep from falling. Then he fainted.

He didn’t know how long he was out and was only dimly conscious of the other troopers as they rode up and found him lying on the ground.

Corporal, see to Trooper Muldoon, shouted Lieutenant Liddle.

Killian struggled to focus as the corporal knelt over him.

Sir, he’s coming to, sir, but he’s....

He’s what, Corporal?

He’s kind of a bluish color, sir.

Is he choking on something, Corporal?

No, sir, he’s not choking, and now he’s beginning to get back to his normal color.

The corporal and the other trooper helped Killian get to his feet.

Are you alright, Muldoon? asked Lieutenant Liddle.

Killian couldn’t answer.

Trooper, are you alright? the lieutenant repeated louder.

Yes, sir, I’m fine now, he managed to reply.

Very well, mount up, ordered the lieutenant.

The corporal helped Killian mount his horse, and the troop headed back to Fort Defiance.

That night, Killian couldn’t get to sleep. He kept thinking about the color of his blood and what the Indian had said about attacking the fort. He knew he needed to tell the captain about the attack. But he also realized the captain would think him insane if he told the truth about how he found out. Killian mulled it over and over in his mind and finally made up a story he could tell. He felt he needed to take the chance that the captain would believe him.

After breakfast the following day, he told the sergeant it was important he saw the captain. The sergeant asked him what it was about, but Killian wouldn’t say. He only said it was imperative. The sergeant informed him he needed to talk to Lieutenant Liddle first. Killian didn’t want to discuss it with the lieutenant, as he knew the lieutenant didn’t like him. But it went both ways; Killian thought Lieutenant Hiram Liddle was a narcissistic, by-the-book officer. However, this was too important, so Killian confided to the lieutenant what he had heard in the woods. Lieutenant Liddle didn’t believe his incredible story, but he escorted Killian to Captain Ryan’s office to be on the safe side. The lieutenant expected Killian to make an ass of himself in front of the senior officer. He had Killian wait outside the office when he went in to inform the captain why the trooper wanted to see him.

Captain, trooper Muldoon wants to tell you something that he says he overheard. He’s saying an Indian said they’re going to attack the fort. I don’t put much stock in it, sir. There’s something extraordinarily different about Muldoon. I have my doubts that he’s even a trooper.

If he’s not a trooper, then who is he, Lieutenant?

I don’t know, maybe a spy for the Indians, Captain.

I’ll admit there’s something unusual about him and no record of his being in the military but a spy. I think that might be a bit far-fetched, Lieutenant.

That may be, sir, but I don’t like him around my men or me.

The captain thought for a moment. I understand, Lieutenant. Alright, bring Trooper Muldoon in. I’ll listen to what he has to say.

The lieutenant opened the door for Killian to enter the captain’s office. He came in and stood in front of the captain’s desk.

The lieutenant says you want to tell me what you’ve overheard, Trooper Muldoon.

Yes, sir. The Navajos are going to attack the fort tomorrow, Captain.

We’ve heard that kind of scuttlebutt before. What makes you think the Indians are going to attack?

Captain, as you know, Lieutenant Liddle’s patrol was harassed yesterday by a few Navajos, and some of us made chase. I followed an Indian into the woods but lost him. I stopped and listened quietly for any movement when I heard some of them laughing and talking. They thought it funny, as they had only pretended to attack us. They said they did it to fool us into not expecting a real attack on the fort in two days, which will be tomorrow, sir.

Captain Ryan gazed at Killian. You’re telling me you overheard this?

Yes, sir.

Do you speak their language, trooper Muldoon?

Yes, sir.

The officers exchanged glances.

When did you learn to speak Apache, the language of the Navajos?

I don’t remember, Captain. But I swear to you, it’s the truth. I understood what the Indians were saying.

This amnesia thing of yours is confounding, said Captain Ryan. He looked at the lieutenant. We can’t take a chance that what he says isn’t true. Cancel all patrols tomorrow. Keep everyone inside the fort, but have the everyday routine be normal. If the Indians are going to attack, we don’t want to alert them that we know.

Captain, this man has been sick and has amnesia; how can you trust his preposterous story about an attack and his knowing their language?

Lieutenant, I know your concern, but the Navajo are fierce, intelligent, and warlike. They’re also bold, troublesome, and dangerous. It won’t hurt to play it safe for one day. I’d hate not to take precautions and find out later what the trooper here says is true.

Lieutenant Liddle gave Killian a disgusted look. I’ll give the orders, Captain.

He and Killian saluted and left the captain’s office.

This is going to be your ass, trooper, the lieutenant growled. You’re causing us a lot of trouble.

If I didn’t tell the captain and the Navajos attacked, many of us would die. Wouldn’t you rather be on the safe side, Lieutenant?

Damn you, Muldoon.

Early the following morning, the 1st Cavalry Company was assembled in the center of the buildings, which comprised Fort Defiance. Shortly, the sentries reported seeing over a thousand Navajo Indians led by Chief Manuelito riding toward them.

The Navajos attacked from all four sides but were forced back by the one-hundred-and-fifty-man Company. The Indians attacked a second time and nearly succeeded in overrunning the garrison. The fighting was fierce.

A tall, powerfully built Indian singled out Killian and rushed at him, knife in hand. He slashed the blade at Killian, who grabbed the man, and they wrestled to the ground. The knife sliced a deep cut into Killian’s shoulder, but he held off the Navajo and turned the knife around before sinking it