Darwin

by Amanda Bridgeman

  He glanced briefly at her, his eyes burdened, but all he said was, “Captain’s going to brief everyone.”

  The tone of his voice concerned her, but she nodded again. “Thanks for … before, outside the flight deck. You saved me. I owe you one.”

  “You don’t owe me anything, Welles. You would’ve done the same thing. Except maybe you would’ve got him in one shot.” He gave her a weak smile, then looked ahead and kept walking. She could tell he was avoiding her eyes now, and it disturbed her.

  “Doc, what is it?” She reached out and grabbed his arm, stopping him. “What’s wrong?”

  “The captain will speak to you in a moment.” He tried to keep walking, but she stopped him again and her eyes searched his for an answer.

  He stared back. “Welles, we have to go.” He broke off her gaze and started walking again.

  She stood there watching him. Something’s wrong … what isn’t he telling me?

  He stopped and turned around. “Corporal!” he called in a firmer voice, as though it were an order. She started walking again and they went the rest of the way in silence.

  When they reached the office, she saw Harris at his desk scrolling through an electronic device, with McKinley standing beside him, reading over his shoulder. The two of them stopped what they were doing and looked up at her. Doc moved to stand beside the captain’s desk, and McKinley moved to the back wall by the door, giving her a strange look as he passed. Her eyes followed him, wondering what it was for.

  Brown and Packham came in then. Carrie turned around as they entered, and saw McKinley motion for Brown to stand beside him, which he did. She locked eyes with McKinley again for a moment, then turned back around to Harris. What’s going on? Why are they all acting strange?

  Packham moved forward to stand beside her, which, Carrie noticed, left just the two of them standing in front of Harris’s desk.

  “Ok, listen up,” Harris began. “We need to make sure we’re all on the same page, here.” He glanced at Carrie, Packham and Brown.

  “It’s obvious now that the missing crew have been here all along. You guys killed three of them. That’s good. Unless they’ve snuck extras on board, then I calculate that leaves three, possibly four, but I’m still not sure where Professor Sharley fits into all of this. We certainly haven’t seen him, so we don’t know if they’ve killed him, or whether he’s a part of all of this.

  “Now, Brown’s overridden the access to the ship, which means we’re locked down and safe. But the question is, what do we do now?” He looked around at everyone. “As soon as we released the survivors, Command deployed another ship to this station. Now, we can wait until that team arrives, locked up here on the ship, but we’ll have to do so for a lengthy amount of time without power, temperature control, etc, and we need to be mindful that we’ve got two soldiers in pods. Having said that, Doc seems to think that Hunter and Colt will survive outside those pods once the battery dies, they just won’t be as comfortable as they are now, and we’ll have to watch them carefully, ’round the clock.

  “An alternative, Brown tells me, is that we could go to the Darwin’s control room, disable the bar on the power so we can regain access, fire up and fly out of here much sooner, and get Hunter and Colt to further medical aid. Of course, if we go for the control room we risk further casualties. These men are extremely dangerous,” he told them, holding up the device he and McKinley had been looking at. “I grabbed this when we were on the secret floor. They left it for me. It goes through in some detail the experiment that are these … men. The experiment is called the UNF Advanced Soldier Program, UNFASP for short. These guys, these specimens, have been nicknamed ‘Jumbos’, basically for the fact that they’re a culmination of several advanced features.

  “According to this report, so far they’ve created eighteen of them. Over time, ten of them have died. Some were due to heart problems because of the high concentration of growth hormones they injected them with. Some were killed by other Jumbos. They had eight left and so far we’ve killed five of them. That leaves …” he looked down at the device, “Oxer, aka Jumbo 16, whom we’ve not yet had the pleasure of meeting, but according to this file he has the eyes. Logan aka Jumbo 17, and Chet, Jumbo 18.” He looked back up at them all. “From what I can gather, they’ve improved with each one, which would make Chet their best one yet. Not only is he their best yet, but both he and Logan were the two main guys working alongside Sharley on this experiment. It’s as much their brainchild as it is his. They were obviously pretty confident with this experiment to volunteer themselves as guinea pigs.

  “Now, the Jumbos are extremely strong and fit and they are well trained in how to kill and kill quickly, as we’ve seen already. The four survivors we initially found all had increased hearing capabilities on top of this. Logan and Chet, their two latest models, have also got improved vision, particularly in the dark. Chet, their very latest, also has an acute sense of smell.”

  Harris seemed to pause in consideration for a moment. “The UNF sent us here to test them. They’ve sent two other unsuspecting ships here prior to us. We’re the third and final test. My guess is, they were to gain our trust, get out of their cell, get amongst us … and kill us. A real life UNF war game.” Harris paused a moment, then looked at Carrie and Packham. “Sergeant Packham, Corporal Welles … when I say their plan is to kill us, I don’t mean all of us. There’s something else you should know.”

  Carrie stiffened slightly and shot Doc a glance. His eyes looked back at hers, almost apologetic. Packham shuffled where she stood and the women exchanged a nervous glance. Carrie looked back at Harris, waiting for him to speak. She saw him glancing down at three e-files lying side-by-side on his desk.

  “Yes, captain,” she prompted him, suddenly feeling very nervous.

  He looked up at them both with a deadpan, expressionless face. “You were put on the Aurora for a reason. The UNF wanted you women to take part in their programs up here on the Darwin.”

  Carrie and Packham shot each other a glance.

  “Take part? How?” Packham asked.

  “It seems the UNF is looking to expand their perfect soldier experiment by branching out into genetic engineering. You were being put forward as the guinea pigs.”

  Carrie looked at Doc again. He was staring down at Harris’s desk. She looked back at Harris and shook her head. “I don’t understand?”

  Harris eyed the two women for a moment. “We believe they want to use you as, um … incubators for some sort of genetic … biological experiment with the survivors.”

  Carrie froze, eyes glued to Harris.

  Packham gave him an incredulous look. “What do you mean? They were going to … are we talking … some sort of … baby thing here? Is that what you mean?”

  Harris nodded. The room was silent.

  Packham laughed strangely. “Er … excuse me, sir?”

  Again the room was silent.

  Carrie glanced over at Doc again. His eyes were still on Harris’s desk. She followed his line of sight to the three files that Harris had been looking at before. She figured they must be their personnel files. Doc looked up and met her stare. His eyes were still apologetic, albeit with a painful edge to them now. Her heart began to pound. Why are they telling us this? Why now? Why here? What’s going on? Carrie looked back at Harris again, his face still expressionless.

  Packham glanced down at her hands, her face suddenly pale and sombre. “Is that why … why they were trying to get to me on the flight deck before, when the power went out?”

  Harris nodded. “That’s why they haven’t attempted to kill any of you,” he answered, then looked at Carrie. “That’s why Grolsh didn’t kill you, Welles.”

  Carrie locked eyes with Harris; her frozen exterior was quickly melting with an angry molten fire.

  “But,” Packham continued, “I don’t understand. Why me? Why us?”

  Doc shrugged. “You’re fit, you’re healthy—”


  “And you’ve all excelled in your fields,” Harris added. “You have good, solid track records and you’re determined, you’re career driven. You must be the sort of breeding stock they’re after.”

  Breeding stock? Carrie felt the molten fire scorching her chest now. She looked around at the four men in the room.

  “So, you’re telling me,” she began, trying to steady the angry waver in her voice, “that we weren’t actually sent on this mission because we’re good soldiers, to work like good soldiers. We were sent here because … because we’re women, basically. That’s it. Just women?” She shrugged.

  Harris looked at her, but didn’t answer. Her burning chest was now accompanied by shaking, sweating hands and shallow breathing.

  “S— So how long have you known about this, captain?” Carrie asked, her eyes flicking between his and Doc’s, as her cheeks began to burn red. “Did they tell you this when they added us to your team? Was it was your job to make sure we behaved? That’s it, right? That’s why you wouldn’t let us off the ship, isn’t it? It’s all in those files, isn’t it?” Carrie pointed to the files on his desk they’d been eyeing.

  “Look, Welles—” Harris began.

  “No!” she fired back at him. “This was in our FUCKING FILES, WASN’T IT?” she yelled.

  “Welles!” Doc stepped out in front of the desk. “Calm down.”

  Harris sat back in his chair, stunned by her outburst.

  “NO!” she hissed, pointing at Doc. “Don’t tell me to calm down!” Her mind was racing now, confused with a thousand thoughts. She started moving backward away from Doc, trying to corral a confused Packham behind her and darting her eyes between the men. She wasn’t sure what was going on, but suddenly felt very uneasy about the fact that it was the women the survivors were after all this time. Her mind continued to race. Why did Harris call us here? Why are they telling us this? What are they planning to do? Why did Doc look apologetic? What was that strange look from McKinley before? What are they going to do to us?

  She very quickly became even more uneasy about the fact that she and Packham were outnumbered, particularly with the likes of McKinley and Brown by the door.

  She eyed them both carefully, then locked eyes with McKinley. “Why are you guarding the fuckin’ door?” she accused in a low, tight voice.

  McKinley and Brown shot each other a puzzled glance, as something seemed to click inside Carrie’s mind. Something she didn’t want to believe, but something that made complete and utter sense.

  She spun back around to Harris. “You’re going to hand us over to them, aren’t you? To save your own necks? Our lives for yours?”

  “What?” Packham exclaimed, looking around the room, panicked.

  Carrie swiftly slid her hand behind to the gun tucked into her pants. McKinley immediately stiffened and reached for his gun too.

  “Welles … don’t,” he warned.

  “Welles, take it easy.” Doc moved slowly toward her with his hands out in a peaceful gesture. “It’s not what you think.”

  “No?” she hissed, slapping one of his arms away, hard, making him wince. “Then what is it? Did you know about this?” She tried to make her voice hard, but it faltered on the last part, as her brow furrowed in disappointment.

  “Just calm down a second … take your hand off the gun,” he said, moving another step closer.

  “You did, didn’t you?” she continued, as her throat tightened. “You and your fucking physicals! Always so concerned about our health!”

  She swung a punch at his arm but he blocked it, grabbing her at the wrist. She was angry and unfocused, so her effort was poor. She let go of her gun and tried to throw one with her other arm, but he quickly grabbed that too and twisted her around, crossing her arms over. She tried to rip herself free, but he held her wrists tightly, pinning her arms across her chest.

  “FUCK YOU!” Carrie yelled, as she struggled against him.

  “No, let her go!” Packham cried out, as she leaped forward and threw her arm around Doc’s neck trying to pull him away. McKinley instantly stepped forward and removed her, forcing her back against the wall. He stood between her and Doc with his hand in the air motioning for her to stay back.

  “Welles, calm down!” Doc yelled. “We’re not going to hurt you.”

  Carrie struggled hard, but he brought her in tight against him, curling his body over hers, and tucking his head firmly alongside, to restrict her movement.

  “Welles!”

  “No! Let me go,” she yelled, still trying to struggle free.

  “I’ll let you go when you calm down. I will not hurt you, alright? I am NOT going to hurt you!” Doc squeezed her very tight now. Her movement was completely restricted, even her breathing, as her arms were pinned so tightly across her chest.

  “It’s okay, alright,” he said with a firm, but gentle voice. “Just calm … down.”

  She stood there trapped, breathing heavily in panic.

  “Welles,” Harris barked, now seeking to take charge again. “Do we look like we knew about this?”

  Carrie tried to look at him, but Doc’s head was blocking her line of sight. He turned their bodies slightly and lifted his head back, so she could see Harris.

  “Huh?” Harris continued. “Four of my men are dead because I didn’t know what the fuck we were up against. You think if I knew it was you they were after, I would’ve let them out of that cell? That I would’ve risked my team? Four men, Welles. Four fucking men! And I have to live with that.”

  Carrie tried to control her anger, the burning in her cheeks and the large lump gathering in her throat. Silence sat in the room for a few painful seconds.

  “We all got fucked over on this, Welles,” Doc said quietly, “all of us.”

  Carrie didn’t say anything. The room was so quiet, all she could hear was her heavy breathing. She felt the lump in her throat increase dramatically and her eyes began to sting with tears. She pressed her lips together and swallowed hard, trying to keep her composure.

  “I’m going to let you go now,” Doc told her with a steady voice, “but I need you to stay calm. Alright?”

  She gave a very slight nod, fighting the lump in her throat and the welling in her eyes. Doc watched her for a moment, then slowly loosened his grip on her wrists. He moved his arms away from her cautiously, as though she were a bomb that could go off any second. When he seemed sure that she wasn’t going to freak out and attack him, he stepped away from her.

  She kept her back to him, but saw him look over at Harris out of the corner of her eye. As soon as he looked away she swiftly headed for the door, rushing past McKinley and Brown, who thankfully made no attempt to stop her.

  *

  Harris watched as Welles quickly vacated the room. He sighed heavily with frustration. It wasn’t the fact that she’d exploded the way she had. That was actually understandable to a certain extent. What got him was the fact that she thought he’d hand her over to the survivors. His own soldier thinking that he would trade her life for his own? She really didn’t know him at all. Then again, what did he expect? He hardly knew her either. He had to admit the circumstances may have looked suspicious. There was little reason to trust anyone right now.

  Doc looked over at the empty doorway, disappointed, then turned back to him, placing his hands on his hips, defeated. Harris eyed him for a moment, then motioned for him to go after her. Doc nodded, and left.

  “That went well,” McKinley said flatly.

  “What the fuck, captain?” Brown asked, his face somewhat bewildered by everything that had just happened.

  Harris sighed again. “What the fuck, indeed!” He ran his hand over his face, then looked at Packham, who still stood in the corner of the room, looking pale and nervous. “Y’alright, sergeant?” he asked her.

  She eyed the three men, then shook her head. “Not particularly, no.”

  “Maybe you should take a seat, you look pale
. Everyone just take a second, until Doc comes back with Welles.”

  McKinley looked at Packham, then walked over and pulled out the chair in front of Harris’s desk. He motioned for her to take it; his way of calling a truce. She eyed him nervously for a moment then she walked over to it, sat down and collapsed forward, placing her head in her hands.

  Harris, McKinley and Brown watched her, then exchanged a look with each other that seemed to scream aloud the same thought: What the fuck are we going to do?

  *

  Carrie walked quickly down the corridor, turned the first corner she came across and stood there. She was shaking like a leaf, still fighting the lump in her throat, as the tears threatened to burst their banks. She couldn’t believe this was happening. All her dreams of Space Duty had been shattered in one fell swoop. She was a good soldier, a great shooter, and here she was being offered up by the UNF as a host for a biological experiment, like she was worth nothing. She placed her hands on top of her head, then slid them down to the back of her neck and took a deep breath, trying to control her emotions. How could this be? Was this what her father was trying to warn her about? Telling her not to trust anyone?

  “Welles …” Doc’s voice came softly behind her, but it gave her a scare regardless.

  She turned around and saw him at the corner of the corridor. “I swear we didn’t know about any of this.” His apologetic eyes pleaded with her. “We’ve only just figured it out.”

  She looked at him a moment, searching his eyes for the truth, and she found it. She believed him. She gave a slight nod, and as she did the banks burst and tears started falling down her cheeks. She quickly wiped them away, but they kept coming. She turned her back to him and shoved her palms against her eyes to try to plug them. She gasped for breath, begging herself: Don’t cry! Don’t cry! Don’t cry!

  She stood there for a few moments, picturing her father’s stern colonel stare. She focused on the image and used it to pull herself together. Don’t fail, she told herself. You can’t fail. She took another deep breath and removed the hands from her eyes, drying them. She turned back around and flinched when she saw Doc standing right in front of her now. She looked at him for a second, saw the concern in his eyes and the painful edge to them, then more tears started streaming down.