Darwin

by Amanda Bridgeman

  Once they were gone, she glanced at Colt, who sat there jaw clenched, equally unimpressed.

  Colt took a deep breath in and exhaled loudly. “I know what you’re thinking Welles,” she said with a hard voice.

  “I can’t believe this,” Carrie said.

  “I know.”

  “What’s the fucking point of being on this ship if we’re not allowed to board,” Carrie said, her voice rising in volume.

  “I know!” Colt said again, her voice strained.

  Carrie saw Hunter exchange a look with Bolkov, who shrugged back at him.

  “I fucking outshoot all of them!” Carrie spat, venomously.

  “Welles, just drop it,” Colt said firmly. “There’s nothing we can do about it. Ain’t no point going on.”

  Carrie sat back in her chair and folded her arms tightly. “So what are we supposed to do, then?”

  Colt looked over at her, eyes as cold as Carrie’s felt.

  “Guard the ship,” she said flatly.

  *

  Harris watched the weapons store become a hive of activity as the men prepped for boarding. McKinley was passing out guns and ammo, scanning each of them as he did. Smith was handing out the comms headsets, and Doc was issuing gas masks with lightweight oxy tanks. As Harris passed out the bullaser vests, he could see Doc trying to catch his eye, but he expertly avoided it. He did not have time to answer his lieutenant’s questions right now.

  *

  Carrie sat there looking out the window, still seething. Why wouldn’t he let us board? Why would he just leave us out like that?

  Suddenly, she saw something twinkle in the distance.

  Hunter leaned forward, hit a switch, then spoke into the mouthpiece of his headset. “Captain, we have a visual on the Darwin. Over.”

  “Copy that, Hunter.” Harris’s voice boomed over the ship’s speakers. “Can you see any visible signs of damage? Over.”

  “Too far out to tell at this stage, captain. I’ll report back in a few minutes. Over.”

  “Copy that.”

  Carrie unfolded her arms and placed them on the armrests of her chair. As the seconds turned into minutes, the ship flew closer and closer, and the cold gray mass that was the Darwin grew larger and larger.

  Hunter hit the switch and once again spoke into his headset. “Captain, we have a clear visual on the Darwin now. There appears to be no structural damage. Over.”

  *

  Harris walked to the wall and hit the PA button.

  “Copy that, Hunter,” he replied, then released the button and turned to stare at each one of his soldiers. “That doesn’t mean shit, gentlemen!”

  “Captain, we’re set to begin comms with the Darwin to announce our arrival. Over,” Hunter’s voice rang out over the PA.

  “Copy that Hunter. We’re switching to the headsets. Over.”

  “Yes, sir,” Hunter answered.

  Harris looked around at his men and motioned for them to switch on their comms. They snapped the headset device around their left ears, adjusting the mouthpiece which protruded out from underneath the ear, a small compact camera that sat perched on top of the ear, and the audio earpiece which plugged inside the ear itself.

  *

  Carrie watched the Aurora’s pilots intently.

  “Switch over to headsets,” Hunter ordered Packham, who began flicking a series of switches on the console.

  “Headsets are now on,” she replied.

  Hunter’s hands danced around the console for a moment. “Starting comms.”

  Carrie looked out the window and saw the Darwin continuing to draw nearer, and continuing to grow larger and larger. It almost looked like a large steel shark swimming toward its much smaller prey, the Aurora.

  “Space Station Z076, this is UNF Aurora. Do you copy? Over,” Hunter announced.

  Static blared back over the speakers, cutting through the stone cold silence.

  “I repeat, Space Station Z076, this is UNF Aurora. We are about to dock and board you. Do you copy? Over.”

  The static blared again for a few moments. Hunter tried for a third time. Still no response. Nothing, but static.

  “Captain, we’re getting no response,” Hunter said into his mouthpiece. “Permission to send our authority codes to dock. Over.”

  “Copy that, Hunter. Go ahead. Over,” Harris replied.

  *

  Harris noted there was silence for a few moments following his instruction. The men shuffled around him, tightening their gear and checking their weapons. Finally Hunter’s voice sounded through their earpieces again.

  “Authority codes sent and beacon transmitting a response, captain. Over.”

  “Copy that,” Harris replied into his mouthpiece. He started to pace, looking each of his men over, checking their suits and weapons with his eyes, all the while still managing to expertly avoid any eye contact with Doc.

  “Remember gentlemen, extreme caution with your weapons. Be alert and be smart about what you do. Know what your target is before you hit it.”

  They nodded in response as Hunter’s voice came back over their headsets.

  “Captain Harris, our authority codes have been accepted and we are heading in. Over.”

  “Copy that, Hunter.” Harris took his gun, held the sight up to his eye and aimed the red laser point on the door ahead. Then he lowered his gun and turned to the men.

  “Let’s move out, gentlemen!”

  Everyone grabbed their oxygen backpacks in their hands, as Harris led them toward the Aurora’s exit.

  *

  Carrie watched, absolutely glued to the flight deck.

  “Reducing speed. Release the docking lock,” Hunter said into his mouthpiece.

  Packham pushed a console lever upward, “Docking lock released.”

  “How’s our approach angle?” he asked.

  She checked one of the screens on the console. “Approach angle on target.”

  “Kill power cells four, five and six,” Hunter ordered.

  “Power cells four, five and six are gone,” Packham responded, quickly twisting three dials.

  The ship’s drone cut to a medium-level hum.

  “Extend the docking lock,” Hunter ordered.

  “Docking lock extending.”

  Carrie heard a loud mechanical noise, and could feel a slight tremor move through the ship.

  *

  Harris watched keenly as the men stood by the exit door in their teams, still shuffling, adjusting, stretching.

  *

  Carrie noticed how large the Darwin was now as it loomed up in front of them.

  “Okay, we’re at three klicks,” Hunter’s voice broke the silence. “Kill power cells two and three.”

  “Power cells two and three gone,” Packham replied, twisting another two knobs.

  The ship’s murmur disappeared, leaving only the slightest of vibrations. A blue ribbon of light shimmered over the Darwin then disappeared, then a large metal door slid open slowly, revealing the inner dock of the station. It was empty.

  “The Darwin’s shield is down and we’re at 1500 meters,” Hunter advised. “Is the docking lock lined up to intercept the Darwin’s anchor?”

  “Yes, sir,” Packham responded looking at one of the screens in front of her, “Docking lock on target.”

  “Kill power cell one.”

  “Power cell one is gone.” She twisted the last dial.

  The ship felt utterly motionless now, as it floated into the open mouth of the Darwin.

  *

  Harris noted it was dead quiet. The men eyed each other expectantly. He shook his legs, anxiously waiting for the word. Ready to begin.

  *

  Carrie saw the docking lock extending out in front of the Aurora, its big claw-like anchor heading for a large metal ring on the wall of the station ahead. She heard an alarm sounding, and noticed the dock’s red warning light flashing overhead, aler
ting the station to an incoming ship and of the atmospheric danger to the station’s occupants. There was a loud bang and a crunching, scraping sound of metal on metal as the Aurora’s anchor hit its target and locked on with computerized beeps. The arm began to retract as it slowly, delicately, pulled the ship up to the dock’s edge. About fifteen meters from the ring it came to a complete stop.

  Both pilots’ eyes and hands were busy, sweeping across the flight deck console in front of them. They flicked switches, hit buttons, turned dials, and read monitors. Carrie heard a loud vibrating noise. She looked at one of the monitors on the flight deck console and saw the Darwin’s mouth closing behind them. It clunked loudly, echoing around the empty dock. There was the sound of a heavy, rushing wind, like a hurricane. The red warning light ceased, so too did the alarm. All fell incredibly silent.

  And Carrie couldn’t help but feel a sudden sweeping sensation of being trapped.

  *

  Harris spoke into his headpiece. “Report, Hunter.”

  “Captain, we’ve successfully docked on Darwin,” Hunter’s voice replied. “Initializing decompression now. Over.”

  “Copy that, Hunter. Is the station’s ship, the Spector, in dock? Over.”

  “Negative, sir. Dock is deserted. Over.”

  Harris nodded to himself, then turned and stared hard at his team. “Seconds now, gentlemen!”

  He moved closer to the door, gripping his gun tightly in his hands, then he looked over his shoulder for the reassuring sight of McKinley, his right-hand man in the field. They locked eyes and exchanged a subtle nod. They were ready.

  *

  Carrie sat forward in her seat, watching Hunter and Packham carefully. They were both carefully focused, reading monitors on the console. Hunter then looked at Packham and gave a nod. Packham began to pull a lever down, as Hunter simultaneously pushed another lever upward. There was another loud sound of air rushing, but Carrie felt none on her face. A series of shrill beeps sounded, followed by a long loud one, and the Aurora’s observation window suddenly misted over. The pilots checked their monitors again.

  “Internal reading is correct,” Hunter announced, then looked over at Packham.

  “External reading is correct,” she replied.

  Carrie watched as the covering mist slowly evaporated.

  “Captain, the ship has decompressed and is in line with the Darwin. Over,” Hunter announced.

  “Copy that, Hunter. Power up the visual comms. Over.”

  “Yes, sir,” Hunter said, as Packham reached forward and flicked another series of switches.

  The window in front of the two pilots clouded over again and a series of monitors appeared. Some were screening the visuals from the ship’s external cameras, but there was also a screen for each soldier’s headset.

  Carrie watched as Harris looked around into McKinley’s camera. “Visual comms are on. Do you receive flight deck? Over,” he said.

  “Copy that, captain. Visuals and audio are A-OK,” Hunter replied.

  Harris turned to the rest of his men.

  “Masks on, soldiers!” he called.

  A flurry of movement appeared across the screens as the men pulled the oxygen packs onto their backs and masks over their faces. A spike of tension travelled up Carrie’s spine as she watched them all standing there, masks on and weapons ready. Her eyes then fell to Smith’s camera, as he stood behind Doc. Suddenly, her breathing became shallow.

  *

  Harris moved over to the Aurora’s door.

  “Five, four, three, two, one!” he called, punching the lever hard and swinging his gun up to his face. The door quickly slid open, and he moved to stand on one side, while McKinley took the other. They both scanned the dock with their guns.

  *

  Carrie, on the edge of her seat, carefully eyed the screens of Harris and McKinley, but it all looked clear. Heart thumping, she watched as Harris ran out under McKinley’s cover, and the rest followed suit.

  12

  The Bio Cell

  Harris led his men slowly onto the Darwin’s dock, under a two-by-two cross-cover. He’d memorized the floor plan and knew the route they had to take as they swept the station. His team made their way across the dock to the formal entrance of the facility, while Doc’s team held back alongside the Aurora providing cover, keeping their eyes on the two emergency exits and high walls surrounding the Darwin’s dock. Harris slid up to the edge of the entry doors and hit the button to open them, but they didn’t. They were locked. He motioned for Smith to advance and resolve it.

  The private scurried across the dock to Harris and quickly removed the cover from the door’s control panel. He took a small, square digital decoder from his backpack, plugged it into the control panel, and began hitting a sequence of buttons. The light on the control panel flashed, beeped, and the door began to slide open. Smith fell back, as Harris and McKinley took a stance either side of the door.

  They were greeted by a darkened, wide corridor with several doorways off each side. Harris flicked on his weapon’s light, and checked the body heat sensor on the top of his gun. It showed nothing other than McKinley’s mass who occasionally stepped into its 180 degree range. The first room to clear was the cargo office on the left. He and McKinley entered and cleared it alone, lights flashing around in the silence, while Brown and Carter controlled the corridor. The cargo office was a fairly small room with one desk and several e-filing racks. Other than that it was empty. Everything looked in order.

  They crossed over the corridor to the right-hand side and the next set of doors: the general store. This room was much larger, so Harris’s whole team entered to sweep it, whilst Doc’s team moved up to the station entrance and guarded the corridor. The store had long shelves running through the middle, stacked with general and mechanical supplies. They slowly moved through, checking it carefully, an aisle at a time, weapon lights bouncing here and there, dancing amongst the red target lasers, but it too was clear.

  Around the first bend of the corridor, still in Section One, were four offices, two on each side, belonging to the resident scientists. Although the corridor lights were off, the office lights were on, throwing a bright whiteness through their glass walls onto the gray corridor floor. Harris again checked the body heat sensor on the top of his gun. It read nothing. He approached and peered through the glass wall of the first office, and confirmed it was empty. Regardless, he and McKinley entered and took a look around, while Brown and Carter took the second; then they moved on to the third and the fourth in succession, while Doc’s team kept watch, down the corridor a little. All offices were empty; all neat and tidy as if no-one had been using them.

  Section One had now been cleared, so they made their way along the corridor to a set of metal doors which led into Section Two, containing the control room, the laboratories and bio cell. Harris hit the button and the doors slowly began to open, while his team stood back weapons ready. They saw another darkened corridor ahead, that again, lay empty.

  Harris motioned for Doc’s team to move up and wait at the doors, while his went on through alone.

  *

  Carrie’s heart was still thumping as her eyes darted from one screen to the next, trying to cover all angles, see what they were seeing, and maybe pick up something they couldn’t. She could hear them breathing through their mouthpieces and saw a sheen of sweat beginning to build on faces as the soldiers passed another team member’s camera. She tried hard to focus on Harris’s and McKinley’s visuals as they were front of line, but her eyes kept falling back to the others, searching for Doc.

  *

  Harris led his men slowly into Section Two. As they moved forward, he and McKinley flanked either side of the corridor, with Brown and Carter positioned behind them, aiming their weapons through the middle. As far as they could see it was empty. After a few seconds, Harris checked the body heat sensor again. Still nothing. He motioned for Doc’s team to start moving up.


  They began to make their way down to the series of micro-labs, which, like the offices, had their lights on brightly. Each micro-lab was filled with varied pieces of equipment and cabinets containing assorted chemicals, compounds and fluids. There were four labs, two either side of the corridor. Again, like the offices, the walls were made of floor to ceiling glass, and with the lights shining so brightly within them, he decided there was no need to enter. There was no-one inside, and nothing looked disturbed on the benches. They were all clean and tidy, sparkling new, like they were part of some kind of display or something.

  “This is a surprise party for my birthday, isn’t it, gentlemen,” Carter joked quietly. “When we hit the end all these strippers are going to jump out, eh?”

  “Shut the fuck up,” McKinley whispered, a ball of concentration.

  The next room in line was the control room. Again, they went in and searched it, and it was empty. The room had several pieces of computer equipment against the walls, and two desks with two monitors lined up next to a PA system. All the equipment was on, lights flashing, but nothing disturbed.

  They walked toward another bend in the corridor around which would be the bio cell, a large room with another floor to ceiling glass frontage; its function, to contain any suspected hosts of biological outbreaks, and when required, it could be used as a holding cell. McKinley was slightly in front as they approached, and his gun suddenly lit up. He stopped, holding his fist up for the others to halt also, and looked down at the reading.

  “I’m picking up heat,” he said quietly into his mouthpiece.

  “Where?” Harris whispered back, darting his eyes down to his own sensor.

  McKinley motioned around the bend to the left. “Looks like four of them.”

  “Bio cell,” Harris said quietly. He quickly motioned for Doc’s team to hold back, while his team inched forward. They reached the corner and peered around. Four men stood still under the bright white lights of the bio cell, heads turned toward them, as though they’d been waiting for them.