Typhoon of Steel Read online

  THE TSCHAAA INFESTATION

  VOLUME 3

  TYPHOON OF STEEL

  MARSHALL MILLER

  Blue Forge Press

  Port Orchard | Washington

  Typhoon of Steel

  Copyright 2017

  by Marshall Miller

  First eBook Edition

  November 2018

  First Print Edition

  November 2018

  Interior design by Brianne DiMarco

  Cover design by Brianne DiMarco

  All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever, except in the case of short excerpts for use in reviews of the book.

  For information about film, reprint or other subsidiary rights, contact: [email protected]

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, locations, and all other story elements are the product of the authors' imaginations and are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or other elements in real life, is purely coincidental.

  Blue Forge Press

  7419 Ebbert Drive Southeast

  Port Orchard, Washington 98367

  360.550.2071 ph.txt

  DEDICATION

  To my wife, who puts up with my ramblings and ranting, and serves as the two-legged mother to our four dogs.

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  This is the Second and Revised Edition of THE TSCHAAA INFESTATION, a three-volume chronicle of what was once referred to as “the War and Peace of alien squid invasion novels.” Thanks to the hard work of my publisher, Blue Forge Press, specifically Jennifer and Brianne DiMarco, I now can present a new and improved version of a long labor of love and creativity. I have had many people help me in learning my craft of being a ‘Wordsmith.’ This is a career and an endeavor of beating words and phrases into a finely tempered work which, like a blacksmith does with steel fresh from the forge, cuts with a clean blade, but ideas rather than wood or flesh. At the same time, like a samurai's katana mentioned in the series, it can also bend to new concepts and opinions without breaking due to its flexibility.

  Of course my wife, Sheri, has often times been a Writer’s Widow as I disappear for hours on end, especially late at night, to hone my craft. Thus, without her understanding and support, this would have been a still borne offspring.

  Author and Esquire Thomas Mengert helped me with the first editing of this work of speculative fiction as well as suggested a companion volume of short stories. Thanks for all the hours spent with me and this futuristic War and Peace.

  My good friend Gregory Brashear, an accomplished local teacher, was a sounding board for many of my ideas. Truth be told, a main character of the series is based on his life and adventures. I'll let the readers figure out which character fits this mold.

  Peter Stockwell and all the other members of Kitsap Literary Artists and Writers helped provide ideas on designs, marketing, and publishing. The Bremerton Kitsap Access Television interview show Peter and I do on a monthly basis is an outgrowth of this group. The KLAW show was the reason I met Jennifer and Brianne and became affiliated with Blue Forge Press, which is leading to bigger and better things. Sometimes it takes a while for “good things and people” to come into one's life.

  I hope all “wannabe” Authors read my artistic endeavors and think “Hey, I can do that!” For writers must write. We all hope that what we write will find a group of readers who will appreciate our ideas, concepts, and the worlds we create as we spin our web of ideas. Especially when those ideas involve humans being cattle for invading alien squids.

  In closing, I also must thank all the people I have met and worked with over the years as yes, you all provided models and fodder for my characters and stories. Hopefully, those who knew me will read my books and say “Hey! Cool!”

  As a final thought, remember:

  Watch The Skies! The TSCHAAA COMETH!

  THE TSCHAAA INFESTATION

  VOLUME 3

  TYPHOON OF STEEL

  MARSHALL MILLER

  CHAPTER 1

  New life often distracts humans from noticing signs of impending danger. Then, like an ocean typhoon, the danger strikes.

  -Excerpts from the Works of Princess Akiko, Free Japan Royal Family

  GREAT FALLS, MONTANA

  The “European Café and American Eats” was packed. The attendees of the Russian Orthodox christening and baptism for Gage and Tristan had taken over the entire restaurant, overflowing from the large back meeting room that the owner Fedir Pavlenko had reserved for Aleks and her party. She had become adopted family, he being full Ukrainian and outnumbered by all the Russians in the area. So half-Ukrainian was good enough for him and his wife, Anastasiya. Most of celebrators were Russian, ninety-nine percent military personnel. Aleks was one of their own, and everyone had better remember that, or else. Of course, Torbin was now an honorary Russian, as was “My Lady of Cold Steel,” Abigail. Everyone else was basically tolerated.

  General Reed had been correct when he said the base chaplain corps could provide a traditional Russian Orthodox Service. Actually, truth be told, Aleks had wished it had not been quite so traditional, as Russian services tend to run long. But then again, it was also just what was needed. Now, Aleks sat beaming next to the brand new bassinets containing her sons. Stalin and a contingent of Russian Spetsnaz had shown up at the end of the service with the two bassinets in tow. They would not take “no” for an answer when Aleks tried to refuse such a generous gift from her fellow soldiers. An argument began until Abigail, in her perfect Russian, stepped in.

  “Please, my sister. Just accept the fact that Gage and Tristan have the largest group of ‘uncles’ in the history of Montana. They are family. You cannot criticize family for giving or spending too much, can you? There are no strings attached with true family.”

  With that, Aleks had acquiesced, thanked them all, kissing them all on their cheeks. Even Stalin. Then she had hugged Abigail.

  “Thank you, little sister. You always know just what to say.”

  “Not always,” Abigail replied. “I still get tongue tied around Ichiro.”

  “Which you shouldn’t be. Nothing you can say will ever chase him away. He is yours.”

  Abigail blushed and changed the subject. That had been a while ago. Torbin had been lured away to match the Russians drink for drink in vodka shots, with Abigail being cornered to watch. She left Fuzz behind to guard the trolls—the nickname Aleks had given to her sons—which he had decided were definitely his. Anyone who came near them, he watched them like a hawk. Every man and women came up to the back area of the meeting room to pay respects to the newborns, the first of a potential new breed of humans. Small envelopes and packages containing cash, jewelry, traditional small painted Orthodox icons were presented to a reluctant Aleks. The new mother finally just took it all in stride, realizing that everyone wanted to be connected to these very special little Russians. They all, thanks in a large part to stories from Stalin, respected her for her service to the motherland.

  There was food, of course. Fedir had provided a spread of cheeses, meats, traditional pastries, potato dishes and borscht. At Torbin’s request, he also served spicy buffalo wings and fresh local potato chips. All he would take in payment was a gratuity for his staff and—of course—a cash bar. He was not stupid. He knew that if he provided free alcohol to this particular crowd, he would soon be bankrupt.

  Fedir and his wife Anastasiya had also come to the table where Aleks was sitting to hand her an envelope. “No! You have given enough already. I am not some spoiled American princess who needs to more things to be happy.”

  “It is not money,” Fedir’s wife Anastasiya said. “Please look inside. It is not much.”

>   Inside were two small stainless steel crosses. “For your sons. Steel to remind them what may be needed in days to come. The cross to remind them that God is on their side, and will watch over them.”

  Aleks had teared up, hugged and kissed her.

  “I do not deserve these riches. I am just a former farm girl shaped by fate. Nothing more.”

  “Not so. You and your sons are symbols of hope for a new beginning. Never forget that.”

  Torbin had returned to his wife, managing to take a short leave of absence from his new found Russian drinking buddies to check on his wife and kids, and to visit the little soldier’s room. Aleks regarded him with her eyebrow cocked. “Is that a Russian Special Forces beret I see on your head, husband?”

  Torbin smiled. “Yes, my love. They made me an honorary Spetsnaz team member. Said that killing a Squid with a knife met minimum standards. Go figure.”

  Aleks laughed. “Perhaps. Or perhaps since they have not yet drunk you under the table, they felt they had to make you an honorary member.”

  Torbin leaned close. “A secret, my wife. I coated my stomach with some cooking oil and milk. Slows down the alcohol absorption. Otherwise, even though I’m a Marine, I’d be staggering around right now, even more incoherent than normal.”

  Aleks smiled at her love. “Your secret is safe with me. I had to do as much at my Commissioning Party. I do not have a hollow leg.” For the party, Aleks had brought along some bottles of breast milk with her, so she could sip vodka and join the festivities too.

  “Now, my dear, I must go drain the lizard.”

  “Ever the witty conversationalist with women. I can’t imagine why you stayed single so long.” Aleks grabbed him and pulled him in for a kiss. “Now, don’t go into the ladies room by mistake, and accidentally pick up some bimbo. You’re mine. Da?”

  Torbin for the umpteenth time realized how lucky he was. “No worries, my love. You alone own my heart and soul. Forever.”

  Aleks sighed with contentment as he left for the men’s room. Next week, she would start going to Stalin’s training sessions and work out with the trainees. She knew it was a rather extreme way to get back into shape, but she felt a need to really push herself since the birth. She wondered if her metabolism which had increased during the pregnancy would remain at a heightened state due to the Tschaaa interference. They had received intelligence info concerning a rise in aggressiveness and competition for sexual favors among many of the young women in Key West. One source had stated that some areas were turning into “catfight cities”, where were an excessive number of altercations between women.

  Ancient tribal groups had often raided others for their gravid females; violence for sex partners usually being between the male of the species. After all, the human male body was designed with greater muscle mass, size, and overall strength. It was designed for violence during hunting of prey. They did not have to worry about injury to an unborn being carried in their bodies. Would pregnancy or menopause reduce this alleged Tschaaa caused aggressiveness?

  Aleks knew that she may have been moody, but she had felt no desire to start yanking some other women’s hair out over Torbin. If she caught him with another woman, she’d take it out on him, not her. He was the one responsible for keeping his “lizard” under control.

  She noticed a tall, blond woman, clad in a winter coat, long winter dress, and boots walking across the restaurant toward her. She immediately recognized her. Brynhildr had decided to brave the mass of drunken Russians, apparently to pay her respects. Then Aleks noticed through the din that she had Big Rolf Knudson and Ichiro in tow, along with two other smaller females. As the group neared the corner of the back room, Aleks recognized dark haired Hannah Weitz, dressed in the same manner as Brynhildr. She realized the fourth figure was the news reporter Sally Reid, broken right hand in a cast and all. The reporter had on a sensible winter coat, sweater and pants. She seemed to have a wrapped package in her good hand.

  Brynhildr broke into a wide smile when she saw the bassinets and the two boys. Aleks stood as the group approached, greeting them.

  “Hello. I see you have brought some more visitors, Brynhildr.”

  “Good evening and congratulations, Aleks. Your sons look healthy and handsome. They take after their parents, that’s for sure.”

  Aleks then looked at Sally Reid. “I see we have gimps bearing gifts. Hello, Ms. Reid. Where are the cameras?”

  Sally gave a shy smile. “Home, where they should have been that day in the hospital. Here. This is a peace offering.” Aleks took the bulky package as she nodded to the rest of the group.

  “Hello, everybody. I am honored you came out on this could night to see my new sons.”

  “Well, there is food and drink, ja?” This was from Rolf, which resulted in a shot to the ribs from Brynhildr. Aleks laughed.

  “Just like my husband. Food, drink, then sex. In that order.”

  “Here.” Hannah also stepped forward with a small wrapped item. “I made something in the forge for your sons. And a little something for you too.”

  Ichiro then stepped forward and set a small group of intricate origami figures on the table, clearly representing Aleks and her family.

  “Once again, Ichiro, you outdo yourself.” Aleks hugged him, then all the rest. Including, to her surprise, Sally Reid. Ichiro gave a short bow.

  “I go to find Abigail, and rescue her from the Russians. I will return shortly.” With that he was gone to the other side of the restaurant.

  “Here, let me open this peace offering before my husband gets back.” She quickly had package the opened. Inside were a substantial amount of disposable diapers, not something easily obtained post-Strike. Aleks smiled in approval. “How did you find these?”

  “I have a friend who has a warehouse full of stuff he’s scavenged over the years. Before I decided to try and be a reporter, before the Squids, I actually was a homemaker with kids. I know what modern conveniences mean when you have newborns.” Suddenly, her eyes became a bit cloudy. Bad memories. Just about everyone had them.

  Aleks looked at her arm in the cast. “My peace offering is an apology that my husband had to go so far as to break your arm. But, well, you made us both extremely angry. How is your friend the cameraman?”

  “His jaw is wired shut. He had one hell of a concussion. I can see how your husband was able to kill a Squid with a knife. He has a unique skill set for destruction and violence.”

  Aleks gave her a bit of a hard look. “Which we need right now, don’t you think?”

  “Sorry. That came out a bit wrong, didn’t it?” Sally sighed. “I think I have a unique skill set to piss off people I’m trying to apologize to. Alesha Taylor called me, said that I need to reach out to you and your husband. Madam President had called her, General Reed, and my boss at the local station and newspaper. Said we’re all on the same side. She’s right.”

  Sally put out her left hand. “Please accept my heartfelt apology. I know I would have beaned someone with a bedpan if someone had stuck a camera in my face after giving birth to my kids.”

  Aleks took her hand. “You have children?”

  “Had.” The one word said it all.

  Aleks looked in her eyes, saw the pain. She stepped forward and hugged Sally.

  “Peace offering accepted. Do you still want an interview, story?”

  Sally suddenly had a surprised look on her face. “Why, yes. That would be great.”

  “Here comes my husband. Torbin, come here. More guests.”

  Torbin’s expression turned a bit dark when he saw the reporter. “Sorry, you cannot interview my sons.”

  Aleks smoothly stepped in to diffuse the situation. “She just made a peace offering and I accepted. We are on the same side. And Madam President wants us to play nice. I know that is hard for you, but do it for me. Okay?”

  Torbin paused for a minute. Then he stuck his hand right hand out, realized his error, switched switched to his left. “Okay. Peace. Sorry I broke y
our arm. I really just meant to throw you out.”

  “I understand. I just got carried away. I‘d like an interview, now that I understand the situation better. I also have a slightly different slant than what I originally thought was the story.”

  “Oh? And what would that be?” asked Aleks.

  “That women have had to step up more than any other time in our recent history. The number of men has been steadily decreasing worldwide, partly due to military action. But now we have good information that not only are men harvested first, but that the Tschaaa may be manipulating us women to give birth to substantially more girl babies. This is in addition to everything else they did to us. So, no matter what happens, the role of women is probably forever changed.”

  Sally paused, then added, “Not to mention reports of increased aggression by women on each other, specifically in competition for men. Still trying to work that one out.”

  Aleks, ever the intelligence agent, surveyed her. Sometimes, reporters were like spies, able to get just the right dirt. “How did you come up with this information?”

  Sally smiled. “Just like spies, we never give up our sources on pain of death. Or so I’ve heard.”

  Aleks laughed. After her initial reaction, she could learn to like this medium-sized brunette, right now with her hair tied up in a bun. She looked to be in her thirties, in decent physical condition. Then again, the herd had been culled out over the last six plus years.

  “Well, what you say has an interesting slant to it. How about grabbing us some vodka and we’ll have a little talk now, sans tape recorders. Then we can decide if we are photogenic enough for television.”