Ghosts of the Vale

by Paul Grover

  She tightened her grip on the handle and hooked her arm around the ladder before inserting the crank into the manual release mechanism.

  It was stiff at first, becoming easier. The door opened far enough for her to clamber through. The deck was hot under her hands as she pulled herself upright. The air was dense with Foglets, they flickered with the orange glow of fire. She coughed as the fumes burned her throat. Debris littered the floor of the corridor and black root-like structures erupted from the deck and walls. She knelt and studied one. It was black shot through with blues and greens. It had a texture like the Ark and the towers of the Arethon machine, leaving little doubt in her mind as to the origin of these strange growths.

  “It’s definitely Pharn Tech,” Mira said, over the comm. “These bigger roots feel like the Ark… they look like it too.”

  She stood and walked onward. The Foglets filled the air, swirled around her and formed geometric shapes. Mira convinced herself it was her imagination.

  She rounded a corner and the crashed vessel lay ahead.

  Ghost-like figures rushed past her. Composed of tiny glowing points of light, they formed the outline of a damage control crew. When they reached the end of the corridor they dissolved into nothing.

  “What the fuck?” she murmured.

  The ship had torn through the station’s substructure and come to rest in an artificial crater covering many decks.

  Mira tentatively edged forward, feeling the floor flexing under her weight. A tear in the crashed ship’s hull opened into a gaping rent surrounded by torn and twisted metal. Black roots invaded the station, twisting over ducting and burrowing into the bulkheads. Although not moving with the speed they had erupted from the businessman’s corpse, Mira could see slow movements as the roots crept forward, distorting the fabric of the station.

  Mira climbed inside. She was in the starboard corridor. Roots sprouted from the deck and ran the length of the passage. The air was dense with glowing spores. She cleared her throat and rubbed her eyes. The airborne detritus was irritating the soft tissue of her respiratory system. She coughed and spat on the deck.

  The ship’s identification plate was partly obscured by the roots.

  KG-768487

  DSSV TORRENCE

  The unmistakable, sulphurous the smell of death filled the corridor.

  I think I know what happened to the crew…

  She dismissed the thought and headed forward, picking her way over the growths.

  The first body, or what was left of it, lay in the corridor ahead; it was male, split apart by a root exploding from his abdomen. Similar growths erupted from his torso and face. The lower half of his body had separated from the rest of the man and rested a few metres away. A trail of dried blood and gore the only signs that the parts had once been united. He wore a flight suit, identifying him only as Moore.

  The man had a laser wound to his head. She assumed the roots had grown after his death.

  A laser wound? He was shot?

  Sudden movement distracted her from the body. More ghostlike figures ran through the corridor.

  They’re like memories… recordings, she thought.

  The figures ran on. Mira followed them to the lower deck. She nearly lost sight of them as they reached the escape pods. One figure was male, the other smaller, Mira presumed female. She was silently protesting, pleading with him. He pushed her into the pod and activated the launch control.

  After a pause the male figure stepped back, raised his hand in a farewell gesture.

  “What happened here?” Mira whispered.

  A second ghostlike figure walked through her. It was a man in an enviro suit. He raised a weapon and fired it at the first man, who fell to the deck. The Foglets evaporated, leaving nothing but an empty corridor.

  She retraced her steps toward the upper deck. The ghost figures rushed past her again as if playing on a loop. Was this a random event? Were the Foglets reacting to her?

  She walked past Moore’s grotesque corpse; more aware of the smell now. A second body lay on the deck, close to the first. This one was less corrupted, and his shirt bore the name Franks. He was tall. His long arms stretched out either side of him, and dreadlocks hung over his face. Mira was in no doubt Mr Franks had grown up on a low gravity world, possibly a station or asteroid colony. He too had been shot; this time in the chest. Mira knelt. The wound was precise, from a high-power energy weapon. The shooter had been clinical in their approach.

  Mira stood and moved on.

  She arrived on the flight deck and squeezed through the tiny opening; she could barely make out where the control consoles were. A third body sat in the pilot’s chair. Mira shuddered, thinking of the hours she had spent on a similar flight deck.

  She stopped. The body was different, uncorrupted by roots or decay. It was male, round in the waist and narrow in shoulders. The man had a long nose and no discernible chin. His head lolled to one side, the restraints holding him in the seat. Mira searched for a pulse and found none. She was certain a broken neck had killed him. The man’s body was still flexible and fluid had not yet pooled in the soft tissues; save for his pallor he could be sleeping. His shirt identified him as Carson.

  He was trying to land the ship… he must have survived what happened only to die in the crash…

  Movement in the access corridor caught her eye. She turned.

  More ghosts appeared; a pair of enviro suited figures entered. One moved to the console next her and tapped in a sequence of commands while the other stood guard in the hatchway. They faded to nothing.

  She was certain the bodies belonged to the crew but who were the suited people?

  Mira shivered. The hairs on her neck rose. The air crackled. Static leapt from the console to her hand. She cried out; more from shock than pain.

  “You are witnessing their imprint, echoes of a point in time. Ghosts… if you wish.”

  A figure of light stood in the doorway. The girl who had appeared to her in the dark machine city of Arethon. Like the ghosts, Zenia was formed of glowing Foglets; her form was solid and cleanly defined.

  “What happened to them?” Mira asked.

  “They died. People came aboard from another vessel… I cannot tell you why. Your species is complicated. You witness their echoes, Mira. Energy cannot be created or destroyed; only its form changes. The Nano Consciousness recorded their imprint and is communicating its knowledge to you.”

  The phantom figure was humanoid, her limbs long and thin. Her face was more angular than a human’s and her eyes much rounder.

  “I don’t understand… remember I’m a standard issue human… your technology is too advanced for me.”

  “I will do my best to explain. This is our technology, corrupted by the Blackened to act in ways we did not intend.”

  “No shit…” Mira replied.

  “It is a polymorphic construction system using nano colonies,” Zenia said.

  “That sounds… a little complicated.”

  Zenia made no reply. She continued to float around the flight deck. As she passed through objects the Foglets forming her body flowed around them like water around rocks in a stream.

  “You need to give me more. I don’t know what a Polymorphic thing is.”

  The Foglets in the air shimmered.

  “You are seeing trillions of sub atomic organisms. Each point of light is a colony. They convert matter to energy and energy to matter. They are the tools we use to construct our vaults, our ships and our bodies. This colony has grown large and become a hive mind. It is conscious; it has sentience; yet does not have life.”

  “Like an AI… an artificial intelligence?” Mira asked. Humanity had banned AI development and usage in the 21st Century after the NORAD defence network became fully self-aware and attempted to start World War III. In the aftermath Earth Governance had been established from the old United Nations; from near Armageddon a new world order had been born.

  “An artificial intelligence is a good desc
ription.” Zenia paused and swept a hand through the air. “The cloud used one these humans as a host to reproduce. This is the work of the Blackened. The growths spreading through the ship absorb and corrupt matter. We use these Nano Colonies to build. The Blackened use them to destroy,” Zenia explained.

  Mira thought of the explosion of Foglets from the businessman.

  “Will I be affected by them?” She wondered how many Foglets she had ingested on her journey here.

  “I have placed them in an idle state, save for those sustaining me. The situation is controlled. You are immune and no other humans will be affected.”

  Zenia paused. Her form was degrading, losing definition.

  “I think it would be wise to destroy this vessel. There are those who would seek to benefit from this technology. I need you to take care of it.”

  “Okay… I can do it but how did you get here? Did you come on this ship?” Mira asked.

  “No, I reside in you. I attached myself to your consciousness.”

  “Is that why I have been able to heal? Is that why I dream?”

  “It is a side effect.”

  Mira panicked. “Were you in control? Could you see the things I did? Access my thoughts?”

  Zenia hovered closer. “No, my energy is passive. The Nano Cloud has given me form and the ability to function.”

  Mira sighed with relief. She had enough trouble being herself without this entity taking control.

  “The sphere… the black sphere I dreamt of, you showed that to me?” she asked.

  “Yes, I learned much from the Arethon vault. It is a node. My people use them to harvest energy from stars to support the collective.”

  Mira understood the principle.

  “This node serves a greater purpose than a simple harvester,” Zenia continued. “We call it the Mothernode. It contains the home system of the Blackened.”

  “That’s why you knew they would return. It’s not some mystical bullshit; it’s inevitable,” Mira said.

  “Perhaps. They have agents in your galaxy working to release them. Some of their number are already active… as you know.”

  “Can I destroy the Mothernode?” she asked.

  Zenia floated around the flight deck observing the root structures. Occasionally her spectral hands would brush against something solid, dissolve and reform.

  “The facility houses a failsafe device… a bomb… it will trigger a reaction within the star forcing it to become a supernova. The Mothernode and everything it contains will be destroyed.”

  Mira thought about Meyer’s words… there are no binary choices. War could be prevented. If she could destroy this Mothernode, the Blackened would no longer pose a threat.

  Genocide… you would be prepared to commit genocide, Thorn? The thought troubled her… Kill an entire species to preserve your own?

  You would do it to save Tish…

  “How do I do it?”

  “The Arethon Cube. It will also allow the Pharn you released on Arethon to reconnect to the collective. They will enable the device. They will be free; you will be free. I will rejoin them. It is an outcome of mutual benefit.”

  “The Cube, I don’t have it. I gave it to a friend…”

  “I sense it.”

  Mira was not about to argue. She could only guess what the Pharn might define as close. For them light-years could be the equivalent of a few hundred metres.

  Straining metal groaned as the ship shifted. Either the Torrence or the surrounding structure was becoming unstable.

  “Mira, I cannot sustain myself any longer. Travel to the Vale; my future and the future of both our people is in your hands.” Zenia faded.

  “No pressure, then,” Mira said to empty air. The remaining Foglets dimmed and fell to the deck like tiny snowflakes.

  The easiest way to destroy the ship would be to shut down the cooling system on the reactor. The station’s damage control system would detect the blast and contain it with an energy shield, she hoped.

  Mira pushed thoughts of the Mothernode to the back of her mind and made for the data analysis console. She pulled roots clear. They crumbled in her hands. She opened the panel, pulled the core and tucked it into her pocket. She noticed something on the deck beneath the chair. Mira picked it up. It was a core caddy, an aluminium and carbon fibre bracket designed to hold a data core in place. It was stamped DSSV Carl Sagan. The core it should have held was absent. Mira was about to discard it when she stopped. What was a core from a corporation survey vessel doing on this ship?

  She made her way past the bodies, all but immune to the stench, and onward to the lower deck. The ghosts had ceased their endless run through the ship and the roots had taken on a brittle grey appearance. She shivered and stopped at the lifeboat station.

  Mira thought of the man putting the girl into the lifeboat. He had been shot here; she had seen the ghost fall.

  Where was the body?

  She knelt and inspected the deck. There was a rusty stain of blood but nothing big enough to indicate a terminal wound.

  So where was the man? Only one lifeboat had launched and Mira was certain the ship was deserted.

  The ship moved, knocking her off balance. She put the mystery to one side and ran to engineering.

  The double thickness blast door was open. Roots burst through from the upper deck and clung to the reactor. She was relieved to see none of them had penetrated the outer casing.

  Mira scrambled to the main engineering console. The roots crumbled as she fired up the control system. She tapped into the cooling system and issued the shutdown command. A klaxon wailed and warning lights flashed.

  She ran back through the ship and carefully made her way to the tear in the hull.

  “Tish, I need to get out of here, pretty fucking quickly.”

  The link popped and crackled. Tish’s voice phased in and out, eventually solidifying. “Use the lift shaft you climbed. Go two floors down and you have a straight run through to a shuttle tube that is still operating. It’s a kilometre. I will try to help. I have control over the station, but the physical damage to the systems is causing problems.”

  Mira cursed.

  “Okay, this will be close. There will be a big bang in the next hour.”

  “Mira get out; just run. Shannon is in the same section of the station. I’m sending her your way. She says she can get you back to the ship.”

  Mira clicked the link. She was already running for the elevator shaft.

  The rungs of the ladder burnt Mira’s hands as she descended. Her lungs laboured to extract oxygen from acrid smoke rising from the fire below. Looking down was like staring into the deepest pit in hell through vision blurred with tears.

  Mira held back cries of pain as skin came away from her palms. The rungs became increasingly hotter. She was sure the soles her boots were melting. She moved faster.

  One more level; that’s all, then hopefully I can heal…

  She coughed on the fumes. Blood spattered on the wall of the shaft.

  Great, there go my lungs. I guess I’ll soon know how far this healing ability goes.

  Mira winced with each rung she descended. Each time her hand closed was more painful than the last. Eventually she arrived at a buckled elevator door. She scrambled through an opening; it was small, even for her.

  Mira knew she did not have much time yet she lay on the deck for a few seconds, gathering her breath. Blisters erupted from her palms and her fingers were immobile lumps of swollen flesh. She coughed and rolled over.

  Dying would be easy; all she had to do was let the fumes float her into unconsciousness and the explosion of the Torrence’s reactor would send her to her peace.

  I love you. Don’t die on me.

  “I’m sorry Tish.” She coughed more blood. Something moved beneath her ribcage and a searing pain ripped through her.

  The sound of tearing metal above focused her mind. She staggered upright and lumbered down the corridor with a speed born of fear. She was in
a service passage. Air shafts and sealed conveyors ran side by side and Mira zig zagged between them.

  The visor showed this route would take her to a commercial district called The Galleria; she wondered if it were the same one she and Tish had walked through. It was only twelve hours ago. It seemed like a lifetime. The thought of Tish and her deep blue eyes spurred her on.

  Mira hoped the quarantine zones were far enough away to survive the catastrophic event she had set in motion. She did not know how much distance she needed to put between herself and the Torrence but every metre would count.

  A blast door was closing ahead of her and she almost reached it. The heavy door slammed into place with a clang of finality. She ran into the metal and slammed her hands against it.

  Mira screamed with rage. No words, no curses, just noise. She pumped the control panel. The door remained closed.

  “Fuck!” she yelled. “Fuck you!”

  She flipped the bird at the featureless steel door with a blistered pink finger.

  The corridor was narrow. A closed conveyor and service duct passed through the steel bulkhead on either side of the door. She suspected this was an access tunnel used by technicians to maintain the station’s infrastructure. She assumed the conveyor linked the shopping district to a warehouse.

  A security camera was mounted on a bracket above the door. She stood in front of it and waved her arms, hoping a human or computer would notice her and open the hatch. The lifeless eye of the camera stared back and the door remained closed.

  She keyed her link.

  “Tish, I’m stuck. Is there another way out?”

  The link popped and crackled, eventually Tish came through.

  “Check… I…” Her voiced phased in and out. A high-pitched whine made Mira pull the headset away.

  She followed the camera’s soulless stare to the hatch on the conveyor tube. The tube ran toward the wall and ducked underneath. With growing desperation Mira searched for a way to break through. The hatch was large enough to allow human access and was held in place with four locking studs.

  She tried to loosen one by hand, her burnt fingers could not close around the heads of the fixings. Despite the healing process they were still too cumbersome for such precision work.