Like a warm and comforting blanket, the darkness enveloped him once again. Absolute silence absorbed the high-pitched vibration that continued to shake within his head. He felt a slight pain prick at his ear. Something warm and wet oozed down the left side of his head. Reflexively he wiped the side of his head and examined his palm. He could see the deep dark crimson shade of blood covered his palm. But, how? He could he see in the darkness. There were none of the glowing lichens in this part of the labyrinth. Light penetrated the darkness of the labyrinth.
How could there be light within the darkness of the labyrinth? This is not possible, he thought to himself. A thin beam of light penetrated the wall of the cavernous lair and struck the ground in front of him. Beyond the deafening ring in his head, a heavy thwunk preceded the expansion of light on the ground about him. His eyes followed the beam back to its source in the wall. Another heavy thwunk struck at something, more felt than heard, and once again the light expanded.
“By the blessed Morachao what could this be,” he said softly, but couldn’t hear his own words over the ringing in his ears. He felt another heavy thwunk and the spot where the light penetrated the darkness fell away. Something large loomed about the other side of the opening. He could see it reach in and grasp the edges of the opening. It ripped away large sections of the wall, allowing light to flood into the chamber. Casraownan backed away slowly. He cautiously moved deeper into the comforting embrace of the darkness.
cHAPTER 16
Unknown Red Giant System
2nd planet, Northern Hemisphere
The Betty / Mess hall
May 27th, 2176 / Mid-Morning (Betty Time)
“D
idja hear, man? Wes said that they found an alien,” Tiff said. “What if they’re evil soul-sucking parasites or skin walking body snatchers?” She picked up a small orange from the mess hall serving bar aboard the Betty, then sat next to Kara at one of the many metal tables. “Or how about one of those face-huggers from that one movie?” The tangy citrus scent filled the compartment as Tiff dug at the peel with her nails.
“The way he told me, it sounded like they are big fuzzy pussy cats,” Kara said. “Hmm,” she purred, “I wonder if they purr like pussy cats when you rub their bellies?”
Melanie opened a cabinet below the serving bar and began sorting through its contents. “As long as they don’t come on the ship and make a mess everywhere, I don’t really care one way or another. But I’ll tell ya’ right now, the first one to poop in a corner is going to get a broom across its ass! I ain’t cleaning up after some nasty assed cat alien if it ain’t got the common sense to use a toilet.” She slammed the cabinet door and stood, staring at Tiff. “What in the hell do you think you’re doing? The Captain said to ration everything.”
“What? I was hungry, man.” Tiff popped a slice of orange into her mouth.
“No snacking,” Melanie said. “Cap said to ration everything, so that’s what I’m gonna do.” She snatched the orange from Tiff.
“Aww man,” Tiff whined.
“If you’re both good girls and help me like the Captain told you to,” she said, emphasized with knife-hand motions, “then I might let you have a treat afterward.”
“Dude,” Tiff whined. “That’s just uncool man. It’s not like I’m ten years old or some shit.”
Kara glowered at Melanie. “That’s just condescending and rude, Mel. We’re all adults here.”
“Well then, how about you actually act like it.” She tossed a serving spoon into the washer and slammed the door shut. “Go over to the pantry cabinet and pull everything out so we can inventory it, then we can work up the menus.”
Kara threw her hands up in frustration. “Alright, alright already. Fine, whatever.”
“What the F ever, man,” Tiff mumbled under her breath as she went to the pantry. “So, what do you think Cap is going to do about the aliens,” she said, changing the subject.
“Don’t know, don’t care. We have other things to worry about right now, like surviving,” Melanie huffed.
“I’m kinda torn on the whole situation,” Kara said. “Do you really think we’ll run out of food?”
Tiff opened the pantry and removed a box from a lower shelf. “I sure as hell hope not, man. Oh hey. What if we have to turn cannibal to survive? Who do you think would be the first to go? Or do you think the Cap would make us draw straws?”
Kara sucked in a breath. “Oh my God, that was abrupt. I would hope the Captain would come to his senses and it would be the Martians on the menu first.”
“The Captain has already said there ain’t nothing gonna happen to the prisoners,” Melanie said. “Don’t you even think about doing anything to them either.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t dare harm a hair on their precious little heads,” Kara proclaimed. “Heaven forbid anyone goes against the Captain's order.”
Mel glared at Kara. “Uh hu…”
“It could happen if things were to get bad enough.” Tiff sighed. “I could do it if it meant survival, I guess. I mean, in the end, meat is meat, ya know. You just gotta picture it as a big fat honey glazed ham slice.”
“Exactly,” Kara said. “And if we added them to the menu now, then that’s fewer supplies that they would use in the long term and be extra meat for our table.”
“Alright, that’s it,” Melanie said, throwing a towel at the other two. “No one is going to eat anyone else. No one is going to kill anyone else. The Captain will figure it out. He always does. Have a little faith for a change, why don’tcha. For now, both of you get the hell out of my kitchen. I’m sick of hearing about it!”
Unknown Red Giant System
2nd planet, Northern Hemisphere
Alien Starport Underground Hangar
May 27th, 2176 / Mid-Morning (Betty Time)
“G
eeze Doug, be careful,” Krista said. “I just got you well enough to be out of bed. I don’t need you slicing your head open on some rusty piece of metal.”
“I’m fine, Krista.” Doug sighed as he stepped through the opening in the ancient hangar door.
“You say that now…” her voice trailed off as she popped her head through the opening. “Oh wow, look at that. Dear God, does it ever stink in here.”
Fergus held out a hand and assisted Krista through the opening.
Doug took in the sight. Large floodlights that were duct-taped to makeshift masts illuminated the area. Heavy roof beams arched across the roof span of the hangar entrance. Extending beyond the reach of the lights, the complex continued for hundreds of meters deeper underground. He continued toward the base camp area, joining Trae and Andy. “You guys weren’t lying about this place. It’s got to be about four hundred meters wide in this section alone.” “Have you had any more sightings of the creature?”
“Not yet,” Trae replied.
“I think we should arm up Cap,” Andy said, sounding hopeful.
“I’m not so sure just yet,” Doug said. “Just in case I’d carry a sidearm if you’re down here, but no rifles and absolutely no grenades or anything else that goes boom.” Doug gazed in wonder at the massive structure around them. “We don’t want to provoke them if we don’t have to. At least not yet anyway. They must be sentient if it was wearing clothing and holding a knife. So, it’s not just an animal. Remember, we’re the ones invading their territory.”
“Are you sure Cap? Cause I can go back and load us up with a few things…”
“Andy,” Doug barked, “No! Sidearms only. Got it?”
“Got it, Cap,” Andy said under his breath as he returned to set up the floodlights.
Doug turned back to Trae. “You said something about salvage?”
Trae stifled a laugh. “Yup,” he leaned down and scooped up a handheld floodlight. “You gotta see it to believe it though.”
“Are you sure we should be in here,” a meek voice said from the opening in the large door.
“It’ll be alright sweetie,” Maggie said. “Captain Dougie
wouldn’t have us here if he didn’t think it was safe.”
“Just watch your backside for the alien probes,” Fergus said as his head appeared through the opening.
“Aliens?” Amanda squeaked and began to hyperventilate.
“Holy hell Fergus.” Krista slapped his forehead. “It was bad enough for us to just get her off of the ship. Don’t send her into a freaking panic attack.”
Fergus’s lower lip bulged in his attempt at a pouty face. He sniffled. “Well now, she can just put on her big girl panties and deal with it, can’t she?”
“Fergus! Drop it and get Lazarus unloaded,” Doug ordered.
Krista pulled Amanda close and patted her back while making a soothing, mother-like sound. “Maggie, come help me with her please.” She stuck her tongue out at Fergus, then lead Amanda toward the center of the lit area.
Doug turned back to Trae. “Are we ready?”
“I’m ready if you’re ready.” Trae slung an overly stuffed backpack over his shoulder then tossed one to Doug. “Fergus will show the girls where we found water so they can get samples to test.” He handed Doug a headlamp and a large piece of chalk. “No GPS to speak of here, so we’ll have to map it out old school.” He clipped a small datapad to a lanyard that hung from his belt. “So, we set our benchmark point, like this field transmitter,” he said, pointing at a small box that bristled with antennas. He held up the datapad and synced it with the field transmitter.
Doug keyed his mic, “Geek you got me?”
“Loud and clear Cap,” Wes replied.
“Set a timer for every thirty minutes if you would please, Wes,” Trae said into his radio mic.
“Copy that and...you are set. Counting down one-half hour. Good hunting guys.”
Trae switched on his floodlight and began to walk away, heading east, toward a large support column. “The container stacks that Andy found are about fifty yards this way. From what we could see there’s a lot more stuff in here, but we didn’t go much further. Without lights and markers, someone could get lost in here real quick. We figured it was safer to wait and get things set up the right way.”
“Good thinking, especially since we know nothing about that alien you encountered,” Doug said. “Any idea what’s in those containers?”
“I have a thought, but I’m not absolutely sure. The containers that the cat thing was hiding behind are like the hangar door. It’s some material that I haven’t been able to identify yet. The face of the containers have been etched instead of being labeled. My guess is that the etchings are the standard kind of warnings and shipping information that we’d see on any of our hazardous cargo. I can’t read a bit of it, but my guess is they contain or once contained deuterium.”
“What makes you think that?”
“There’s a symbol on the top corner of the markings that looks like a molecular diagram. Two elongated hexagons butted up against each other with a third off to the side on a dotted circle like the orbit of an electron. If it is deuterium, it could be worth a small fortune.”
“It’s only worth a small fortune if we can get back to Earth,” Doug said. “But it does solve part of our fuel problem, though. That’s less that we’ll have to try and produce on our own for the short term.”
“There they are,” Trae said, pointed his light at a series of pallets with large metal cylinders stacked two high.
Doug studied the cylinders. Someone had recently wiped away the thick layer of dust that covered everything, including the heavily oxidized surface of the container. “You mean this symbol here?” Doug traced the lines of the symbol with a finger.
“That would be the one. The way that it’s segregated from the rest of the markings makes me think it’s for quick identification. I’d bet the rest of the info is warnings, hazards, the standard industrial gobbledygook.”
Doug looked around at the stacks of containers around them. “There’s at least a hundred of these containers right here. If they are still full we might be set for a while.”
“We’ll get a full inventory of everything later on after we get some lighting in here and make sure that it’s safe.”
“Which direction did the alien take off?”
Trae pointed his light down a long aisle of similar containers. Doug could see the odd footprints left on the dusty floor. “Who all did you say was over here?”
“All three of us were at one point. I wandered down to the end of this aisle. Looks like it opens up into a forklift path or something. Why?”
“If that’s you and the other two’s footprints, and that’s the alien’s, then what’s that one?” Doug aimed his light at a group of smaller prints mingled on top of the others.
“Group of little aliens maybe? They look similar to the larger set.” Trae knelt down and stared at the prints. “They all have claw marks like a cat.”
“Maybe,” Doug said under his breath. He pulled his revolver from its hidden holster. “Just keep your eyes open.” He scanned the area with his light then stalked away into the darkness. “Let’s get a perimeter marked out and go from there.”
Trae brushed away dust from the concrete-like floor and marked an arrow in chalk that pointed in the direction they had come from. He powered on the datapad then pressed the icon to log the new waypoint. “Sounds good to me, boss.”
Doug continued along the outer wall. A large section had collapsed in on itself at some point in the distant past, allowing sand to flood in and form a small dune. Movement caught his eye. Translucent tendrils protruded from the soil and dangled lazily into the darkness around it. Delicate frills vanished into the clear root stalks as his light shone upon the mass. “Trae! Over here, quick.”
“Over where?” Trae’s voice echoed. “Nevermind, I see your light,” he said. He quickly appeared next to Doug, “What ya got Cap?” Trae leapt backward at the sight of the mass. “Oh shit! That’s like something right out of a bad horror movie.”
“Yeah,” Doug said. “Mark it on your map. We can come back and examine it closer later on.” Doug continued along the wall but gave the thing a wide berth.
“Hold on Cap,” Trae said as he finished tapping at the datapad and let it fall to his side.
“Hold on, what?”
Trae picked up a small stone and tossed it at the mound. The stone landed on the dusty floor nearby with a light thud. The thing exploded into a flurry of motion. Hundreds of translucent tentacles sprung forth from the mound and stabbed at the motionless stone.
“Hu,” Trae gasped. “It’s like a jellyfish or anemone I bet. Stings its prey, then pulls it in and slowly digests it.”
“Let’s really keep our distance for now. Snag a picture for the database and mark the location on the map as extremely hazardous.”
“Way ahead of you,” Trae said as he updated the waypoint.
They continued silently for the next hour. Trae logged stacks of ancient trade goods, cargo containers, and skids full of what looked like personal luggage. Most of the containers were still intact, though a few had collapsed or broken apart.
Trae whistled a long breath. “Would you look at that, Cap?” Trae gasped in awe. “That I do believe, would be a jackpot.”
“I’d say so,” Doug said. “But they may be no better than scrap metal at this point.” He panned his light across the surface of a small, one-man craft.
“True,” Trae replied. “It all depends on what was wrong with them when they were parked and what time has done to them. The upside is the environment hasn’t been a bad one for long term storage. It’s like the aircraft boneyard out in Arizona. There are airframes out there that are nearly two hundred years old and they are still in as good a shape as they were the day they were parked. The big question for me would be the tech. Can we figure it out in order to get them back up and running again?”
“I count four, wait maybe a fifth back that way to the east.” Trae motioned with the beam of his flashlight.
“Maybe there wasn’t anything wrong with them and
they just ran out of pilots or fuel?”
“It’s possible,” Trae said. “That would be a sweet deal for us. There would be a better chance that we can get them functional again if that’s the case.”
“This one,” Doug said, motioning, “looks like a light transport to me. Look at those engine nacelles. I bet this thing is set up for vertical takeoffs and landings. Easy loading and unloading through the lower cargo door. I bet it would be easy to drop and go. But with the cockpit so high up on that neck there, I bet it would be hell for the pilot to see anything on the ground.”
“I’m sure there are cameras and proximity sensors all over the thing.” Trae continued deeper into the hangar. “Ha!” Trae snorted a laugh.
“What’s up?”
“I’m pretty sure I know exactly what this one is for. The design is nearly the same as the old Grayson and Ronin pusher tugs from back when the colonies were being established. See, that section sticking out there,” Trae shined the light overhead as he backed away to see from a different angle. “Yup, that’s what I thought. This outrigger station on the side here looks like it’s the cockpit. With the cockpit offset like that, you can see around the load for docking and maneuvers. And hose mandibles there,” he said, flashing the light over to his right. “They would be used to lock onto a freight container module that could be stacked however deep they wanted to make it.”
“And that one, my friend,” Doug said with a tone of reverent awe, “looks like a warship if I’ve ever seen one.”
Trae rounded the corner, catching up to Doug. He stopped suddenly and whistled. “Oh, no shit.” He lustily gawked at the craft. “Would you look at that? Narrow body, small command deck, wings upswept like a hawk about to attack. I’d say your right, Cap. Looks like a warship to me, too.”
Flux Runners Page 14
