Seclurm: Devolution

by Noah Gallagher

  That image struck Sam with sadness. After a moment, however, he felt a tinge of the warmth of Rosalyn’s body on his shoulder, and that warmth reminded him that he wasn’t the only survivor. And perhaps in his survival this place, which was partly his, was not fated to become a dusty, forgotten tomb after all.

  ♦♦♦

  Terri felt calm again now that they were safely tucked away within the mouth of the cavern. The storm that had just picked up outside must have already been reaching its zenith. She was happy to be breathing filtered oxygen in her spacesuit.

  “Starting to wish you took the spear?” said Terri to Randy, who stood nearby leaning against the carrier vehicle loaded with bags of food and other supplies. They had tucked the carrier inside a small enclave in the tunnel so as to be slightly less visible in case anything hostile passed through looking for them. If at all possible, this was to be their hiding place in the event that the alien could not be killed.

  “I think they’ll be able to take it out,” he replied, just a hint of uncertainty in his voice.

  She examined him. “I thought you just wanted to get out of there. Let Rosalyn try to kill it if she wants, while you get away unscathed.”

  His defensive glare was about what she expected. “I’m not a monster, Terri.”

  “I know you’re not. What’s happening to us is the monstrous thing. Look, I honestly don’t blame you. I think hiding out is the best option, anyway.”

  Randy sighed. He was silent for a moment, glancing around the weathered, rocky walls as thoughts went through his mind. “Wonder how long they’ll be gone.”

  Terri was sizing him up. “I don’t know. Could be a long time. Could not be.”

  “Maybe we should, uh, set up the space tent.” He didn’t look at her as he spoke.

  “Space tent, huh?” she replied before pursing her lips curiously.

  “Yeah. Just thought it might be nice. You know, to, uh, get out of our suits.”

  “Hmm. That could be nice.”

  He turned to her and smiled a tad bit. With twitching excitement she stepped to the rover and climbed up on the side of it, leaning over the side and rummaging around looking for the tent, all while keeping her smile down.

  “Hold on…” sputtered Randy. “Wait—wait, wait, do you see…? Look, out there!”

  He pointed outside, into the stormy winds. Terri followed his finger with alarm, but saw nothing for a moment. Then the silhouette appeared of something racing towards the cavern mouth. Something tall.

  “What is that?!” she exclaimed.

  “Get down!”

  Randy yanked her back and pulled her over behind the rover. They crouched down low. With any luck, if it was the alien, it would pass by without noticing the carrier tucked in the enclave and them behind it.

  Quietly Randy turned on his comm set and spoke into it. “Rosalyn…Sam…something’s approaching us in the cavern. Is it one of you?”

  They both waited, striving for silence, for a response. Nothing came.

  “It’s either Sam or Rosalyn or it’s the alien,” Terri reasoned fearfully, “and if they’re not answering you…”

  Suddenly they heard the unknown entity approaching. There were…footsteps. Thumping footsteps like metal boots. Randy and Terri both raised their eyebrows.

  “R-Rosalyn? Sam?” he repeated softly.

  In a flash they saw a figure run past them. In the darkness and in that short instant they barely made out the bulky spacesuit it wore, draped over with a weathered brown cloak. It was difficult to say, but it seemed quite tall.

  They lost perspective on the figure in an instant from where they were sitting. Having noticed the spacesuit (if nothing else), Terri stood up and walked out into the clear to get a better look at him or her.

  “Hey!” she called loudly, turning on her comm set. “We’re over here!”

  The figure was shrouded in darkness before long, and didn’t stop running. Their footsteps echoed through the tunnel.

  Randy stopped beside Terri and cocked his head. “I don’t know if that’s Sam or Rosalyn, but why can’t they hear us?” Randy’s eyes suddenly went wide. He swore. “Their comm set must be out. Oh, no… Oh, damn it.”

  “What?”

  “If only one of them is here, the other must be dead!”

  She sighed a painful sigh. “Whether Sam or Rosalyn, they were probably looking for us. Maybe we hid the carrier too well.”

  “We have to go after them!”

  “F-further in?” She grimaced harshly.

  He shrugged quickly and started running forward. “We’ll catch up to them if we hurry. Come on, let’s go!”

  It seemed odd to leave the carrier, but it would slow them down while they tried to catch up to the running figure. They wanted to be with the last survivor, if only to know whether the alien was still alive too, and surely he or she wouldn’t go too far before turning back again. Once they caught up with them, they could all return to the carrier and figure out their next move.

  The two crewmates dashed forward and turned on their spacesuit lights, shouting and screaming Sam and Rosalyn’s names.

  ♦♦♦

  Sam was at the top of the stairwell when he heard a red alert go off. With a start he realized that meant the engines were overheating. Somehow they had gotten turned on again. He didn’t know when that had happened nor how close they were to melting down, but he had to do something quickly.

  With Rosalyn bleeding, this was a bad spot to be in. Having only basic medical training under his belt, Sam was only partly certain of his next move. Still wearing his damaged spacesuit, he opened the door to the medical bay, Rosalyn slung over his shoulder, dribbling blood on top of the alien’s blood on his suit. He walked through the rooms of the disastrous-looking medical bay. Just as it had been last left, there was a gaping hole on the wall covered only by a thin sheet of metal from the ceiling. Supplies were strewn all around haphazardly, and the medical chair had been upended.

  Setting Rosalyn down carefully on a table, he searched with haste through every cabinet, along the floors, in each drawer, and everywhere until he found medical cloth, tape, and a large cloth pad. Carrying all that and Rosalyn again, he dashed over to the Bridge, finally shutting off the engines and averting a possible explosion.

  He set Rosalyn on her mattress on the floor by the bow of the ship, removed her shirt, and got to work as best as he knew how on her. From the looks of her blood-soaked white undershirt, the bleeding was growing worse and worse with each passing minute. Using medical scissors he cut her undershirt away except for those parts immediately around the wounds, leaving her wearing only a black bra and pants. He covered the cloth pad firmly over the center of her breast and wrapped it with the cloth, sealing it off tightly with medical tape. The other wounds on her body, though not as dire, he also wrapped with cloth.

  Rosalyn was breathing normally, so it was clear that she was alive. She would need surgery to remove the shrapnel safely from her body. If that didn’t happen… Well, the last thing he wanted was to be alone on this ship.

  A light went off in his head and he remembered Terri and Randy. What had become of them? He turned on his radio communication system and started speaking rapidly.

  “Terri! Randy!” he spoke. “The alien creature is dead. I repeat, the alien is dead. Captain Pulman is in critical condition, but stabilized. It is safe for you to return to the ship.”

  He sat at the bench and watched Rosalyn lay on the table, breathing slowly but consistently for several moments. Sam waited for a response. While he waited, he removed his own spacesuit, eager to get out of that uncomfortable, blood-stained thing and clean it off. He noticed wounds of his own, but none were very serious; he hadn’t been in the heat of the fight for very long, unlike Rosalyn.

  Still no response came from the others.

  “Crew member White and Doctor Jones, are you there? Can you hear me?”

  The signal should have had no problem reaching them if th
ey were still where they had been advised to go, which was the mouth of the cavern. Not unless they had started traveling far, far away from the ship across the surface of 730-X Zacuali—which they had been directly advised against and couldn’t have done safely in the storm raging outside—or if they had gone far underground. But there was no sensible reason for them to return deep into the ruins. They weren’t stupid.

  “Doctor Jones! I need you to come back here to perform emergency surgery on Captain Pulman!” he shouted, powerlessness overtaking him. “Where are you?”

  After all this, had they somehow been lost too? He refused to accept that.

  Wind pounded violently against the glass on the Bridge, still determined to rage as long as there was element to rage against. Outside, Sam could see only dust and smog.

  After several agonizing minutes, he turned on the engines again to reboot the computers, hoping to discover answers there somehow. Once he had, he became aware of a notifying noise going off from the captain’s monitor. After listening to it for a moment or two, he walked over and saw the monitor blinking uncharacteristically. They hadn’t received an external message of any kind—the damage to the computer systems would not allow that—but there was an internal message…from SNTNL.

  On the monitor he read a message written out:

  Crewmember, this is SNTNL. I have been reengaged in an emergency mode. If you connect your smart device into this computer, I will be able to speak to you through the device’s speaker. I believe my input will be invaluable in ensuring your survival.

  Sam blinked. As far as he understood, SNTNL was the mainframe that had been completely destroyed days ago. But here the A.I. was nevertheless.

  He stood there confused for a minute, unsure what to make of it, and without much time to think; Rosalyn was dying.

  He dug through shelves around the Bridge and found an old, printed manual for SNTNL—printed out just in case of electronic failure. For a few minutes he scanned it frantically, looking for any sign of a note about this “emergency mode”. Sam had never heard of it before. A single phrase mentioning it would calm Sam’s nerves. But he found nothing.

  Rosalyn still lay dying. And she needed more help than just an engineer could provide.

  With a sigh he placed his device on a computer port and waited for another few minutes as SNTNL downloaded onto it. Then he picked up the device again and SNTNL’s voice came through as if he were talking with it on the phone.

  “…Hello?”

  “Good to be with you again, Sam.”

  “H-hi there. Um. I’m, uh, a little confused, SNTNL. Maybe you can help me understand how you’re back online.”

  “As I mentioned, I’ve been reengaged in emergency mode. FAER may not have mentioned it to you. Suffice to say that it is in place to aid you in situations like this.”

  “Why didn’t they mention this earlier?”

  “I cannot say, Samuel. Would you like me to prove my identity to ease your worries?”

  “You can do that by helping me save Rosalyn. Please.”

  “You’ll have to forgive me, but I can’t see as much as I usually would what with the ship in the state it’s in. I would like to hear an update on the situation so I can help you. May I speak to Captain Pulman, please?”

  “She’s…uh…a little indisposed,” he said with an eyebrow raised. “A lot has happened. There was an alien predator aboard our ship. We assume it killed Shauna and Mitchell, and we saw it kill Al. But it’s dead, now. Rosalyn and I killed it. I guess the ship killed it, technically.”

  “It’s…dead?” There was surprise in the A.I.’s voice, strangely enough. “Well, that’s fantastic news. How did you manage that?”

  “Lots of perseverance, fire, stabbing, and a heavy column.”

  SNTNL seemed at a loss for words for a moment. “Well, it seems we’re safe now, then. Where is Captain Pulman? You said she’s ‘indisposed’?”

  “She’s dying, SNTNL,” he clarified grimly. “The alien nearly killed her.”

  Another moment of silence. “I think I know how to help you. If you would be so kind as to point your device camera at her so I can assess her condition.”

  Bemused at being ordered around by SNTNL—especially after believing it was dead—he nodded and went back over to the common room, pointing the device at her. If he naturally carried more trust for A.I.s, he might have asked it why it was back online.

  “Done,” it said after a minute or so. “I’ve determined that her condition is still critical. Without emergency surgery the damage to her chest area will be fatal.”

  “Damn it, I know that, SNTNL. Where are Terri and Randy?” Sam didn’t know or care if it was the stress of the situation or the fact that he was only talking to an A.I. that made him speak rudely.

  “Through your smart device’s camera I can search the immediate surroundings if you get me to a window.”

  “Alright,” he said. He went over to the main window of the Bridge. Beyond the glass and gusty smog, very faint, was the mountain and the cavern entrance. There was no sign of any human presence anywhere. He pointed the device all around in a panorama for SNTNL to analyze.

  “Done,” it said after a while. “I can see from tracks left on the minor planet’s surface that they went into the cavern and didn’t come out. I cannot see them within it. They must have gone a little bit further than we expected them to.”

  Stress welled up in Sam’s heart. “You have to be kidding. What am I supposed to do now? Go after them?”

  “That may be our only option.”

  He cried out in frustration. “I can’t leave Rosalyn here to die while I go searching for those two Marco Polos!”

  “Perhaps you could connect your device with the computer and see if I can find any more solutions.”

  Sam frowned. This emergency-mode SNTNL was a lot more proactive than the old one was. He was grateful for it, though. He needed all the help he could find. He placed the device beside one of the Bridge computers so it could connect wirelessly.

  “I don’t know what good this will do what with the ship being so damaged.”

  SNTNL didn’t reply for almost a minute. Then it finally spoke.

  “There is another option.”

  “And what would that be?”

  “To your left.”

  Sam turned his neck and saw something that had only lightly crossed his mind in the last thirty-five minutes or so since the alien had been killed: the door on the Bridge’s port side that led to the cryo-pod. The pod was a small and spherical mini-ship with little inside it but an ergonomic, encased bed known as the cryo-cell wherein one would be cryonically preserved—essentially frozen—with all body processes completely stopped until one can be reawakened when the pod reaches home, where they can be better treated. The pod was equipped with basic engines that could travel slowly but reliably through space. It wasn’t nearly powerful enough to leave the atmosphere by sheer force of jet power alone; like a satellite, it would need to travel at an angle and slowly exit the minor planet’s orbit by spinning around its circumference as many times as would be necessary to gather enough speed to leave the atmosphere like a slingshot. With the destination of the pod set prior to the user’s freezing, they could rest easily knowing that at some point, perhaps several years or decades in the future, they would make it back home and live.

  Sentencing Rosalyn to such a fate seemed simply heartless.

  “So, I should just send her off in that, huh?” he said uneasily.

  “That is certainly an option. However, I will remind you that the cryo-cell itself can be used independent of the pod. Meaning you can freeze Rosalyn to ensure her survival, but choose to keep the pod attached to the Novara for the time being. I would recommend that latter option, as it may allow you to find Doctor Jones and receive her help with surgery to avoid an unnecessary and lengthy journey for Rosalyn. But if that option doesn’t work, you can send the pod off later with nothing lost.”

  SNTNL made an
excellent argument.

  “Alright, in we go, then,” Sam conceded. After retrieving his device, he carried Rosalyn in his arms again and brought her through a small hallway leading up to the door of the cryo-pod, which was built to be easily detachable from the main ship. He entered the pod.

  It was solid white in color, very sterile and clean, never used. The cryo-cell stood in the center of the room, a cylindrical metal structure forming a thin bed that was sealed behind glass. A plushy, curved, gray bench lined the walls all around the pod except by the door.

  All astronauts received training about the scenario of having to use a cryo-pod to return from deep space to earth, but that journey was such a last resort that those aboard the Novara certainly never seriously entertained the option of using it. He hadn’t heard of a single case where it had been used. That made it all the more terrifying.

  The cryo-cell itself, however, was solidly proven science, although it also wasn’t frequently used during space travel, as most astronauts preferred to spend their long journeys traveling through space by interacting with others and engaging in various hobbies. Using the cryo-cell often was seen simply as time lost, unless, of course, there was a medical reason for using it. Sam recalled hearing news reports of some wealthier individuals with fatal diseases not yet cured having chosen to cryonically preserve themselves essentially indefinitely, only to be reawakened after a cure is developed. A stark and sobering prospect, but Sam couldn’t deny that it was better odds than simply waiting to die.

  He set Rosalyn down on the cushioned, curved bench and activated the cryo-cell with a few button pushes. The glass covering slid open. With heaviness in his soul he picked Rosalyn up one more time and placed her carefully on the bed within the device. She stirred slightly, but she wasn’t about to awaken anytime soon. She looked so strong still, in spite of her wounds. That beating she had received wasn’t in vain. He thanked her silently, and he hoped dearly that he would be able to thank her in person someday soon for all she’d done for him. She had saved his life—and Terri and Randy’s—and she would, mercifully, live, whether that healing came in a day or so after surgery from a temporarily-missing Doctor Terri Jones or in some years after her return to earth in the pod.