Seclurm: Devolution

by Noah Gallagher

  She would live.

  Knowing that brought comfort to him as he watched the glass slide back over the cell, covering her body.

  He smirked for a half-moment. She won’t be hating the cold now, he thought.

  A noise of air being pumped into the cell started up. He could see it, like the fog of a chilled morning, blowing all through the cryo-cell and drastically lowering the temperature. Before long, the glass of the cell was fogged up as well until all he could see was a washed-out silhouette.

  A tear fell from his eye. He made no effort to stop it. He simply stood there for a short while, and then sat down on the pod’s bench for a longer while, saying nothing, glad to be able to breathe freely at last.

  12

  Sam Tokoharu felt like he had time now to think. More time than he’d had in days. There was time to process the events that had just concluded in the death of the alien, and he allowed thoughts to flow through his head freely, free from fear that sparing time for such unfocused thoughts would result in something horrible happening to him or his friends.

  He had left the preserved Rosalyn in the cryo-pod and was now sitting on his mattress on the Bridge drinking lots of water and resting. He thought on how each of them had, whether they admitted it or not, signed up for the possibility of a life-threatening scenario such as this when they had agreed to search unexplored corners of space. He didn’t like it any more than the others, but he didn’t feel any animosity towards FAER like a few of the others seemed to. As horrible as this was, it was an occupational hazard, albeit one that had never been actually encountered before.

  Things would change greatly in the space travel field following this unprecedented event. Imagination conjured up in his head a rapidly-approaching metamorphosis for the ongoing space race. Many small-time mining companies reducing the scope of their projects or perhaps dropping out of the field altogether. Larger companies and organizations like FAER, SpaceX, and NASA stepping back to reassess everything they thought they knew about space travel and the universe itself. The eventual return into space being done with extreme caution, new weapons being developed and employed, armed guards joining astronauts every time they went to places uncharted.

  All those thoughts, however, were being gradually gnawed away at by a rising hunger within him. He hadn’t eaten since that morning, and it was now well past lunchtime. All the food they possessed had been loaded up with Randy and Terri’s carrier, since they didn’t want to waste any in the event that Randy and Terri could not be advised to return to the ship.

  So, although all he really wanted was to rest easily, the unanswered question of where his crewmates had gone as well as his own hunger would drive him to suit up once more and go search for them.

  He couldn’t help but feel angry at them. He knew he was likely overreacting, but they were making things more difficult than they had to be by heading further into the ruins. What could possibly have driven them to do that? The agreed-upon plan was for them to wait and periodically check in to see how things were going, and if they heard no response, they were to move the carrier elsewhere on the planetoid’s surface and hide from the alien until FAER’s rescue vessel arrived. It was past time for them to check in. Why weren’t they keeping up their part?

  The thought that they may be in danger popped into his mind then, stoking a feeling of guilt for being angry at them. But what danger would they be in? The alien had been killed, and it lay a bloody pulp in the bowels of the ship. He was as sure of that as he was alive.

  But in the ruins… Sam shuddered as he recalled what Rosalyn had said to him before Terri and Randy left: new movements had shown up on the radar from inside the ruins, as if the place had suddenly come alive. When he heard that, he had pushed it out of his mind, believing it didn’t affect them because they weren’t going to go back in anyway. Could Terri and Randy really have been that stupid to go looking around in there again?

  Whatever that thing was that came on their ship…as much as he detested even the barest sliver of the thought of it…there were probably more of them.

  He breathed out a slow, unsteady breath as he lay against the bed, running his hands through his hair. Just as this horrible nightmare had seemed to be finally under control!

  Calm down, he told himself. There’s got to be some explanation. They’re safe…I’m just overreacting.

  He spared no more thoughts about that, whether it was reasonable or sane to believe or not. He just believed it, because he had to. That line of positive thinking had gotten him through many a tough experience in life. This was merely the greatest test of his willpower yet, he supposed.

  “Mr. Tokoharu, I do not wish to rush you…” SNTNL began, speaking out of his smart device still.

  “No, you’re right, SNTNL. I need to get out there and look for them. I’m just working up to it. That place…those ruins were so wrong. I hated being down there almost as soon as we discovered what it was.”

  “May I ask why?”

  Sam smirked ever so slightly. A.I.s were programmed to tend to grow more chatty the fewer other people were around; it helped crew members stay calm and mentally healthy. That functionality could be dismissed with a simple request, but he didn’t mind it. Talking to A.I.s was good fun, in his mind. Some found pleasure in attempting to harass them outright, but Sam liked to be more subtle about it, sometimes trying to see if he could find programmed biases in their speech or glitches or oversights of any kind.

  He sat up and got out of bed while his thoughts went back to the ruins he’d been inside three days ago now. Felt more like a month.

  “Why do you think, if I might first ask?” he said to SNTNL.

  After a moment the A.I. responded, “Well, I would have thought that—prior to your discovery of the alien presence and the danger to Captain Beele’s life, of course—the discovery of the ruins of an alien civilization might have been something marvelous to behold. I expected that you might feel accomplished or pleased at the very least.”

  Sam went and gathered up the pieces of his space suit he’d stripped off earlier. It was still in good enough shape to wear outside, but it was covered in the alien’s and Rosalyn’s blood. Fearing what he might catch if he exposed himself to alien contaminants, he brought the suit to the showers in the empty sleeping quarters, slathered it in soap, and let it sit there in the spray of the shower head for a good few minutes.

  The thought came to him that he was possibly contaminating their water supply. It was hard to think clearly. He decided to trust that the ship’s purifiers would be able to handle it and turned his focus to more pressing matters.

  “You know, before we came to this place I think I felt that I’d like to see alien life as much as anybody else. But as soon as we went into that dead-looking place and I saw the greatest evidence of it that anyone has found so far…I just felt like we weren’t supposed to be there. I felt this strange feeling like…like humans aren’t supposed to find another civilization anywhere. I’ve never felt so much like I didn’t belong.

  “SNTNL, what do you place the odds that I’ll go in there and get slashed to pieces by thirty more of those hideous aliens?”

  “Honestly, sir?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you…want an actual number? A percentage?”

  “Or a fraction. Or a magic eight-ball message. Doesn’t matter to me.”

  “Well, in that case…‘Ask again later.’”

  Sam actually started laughing. He laughed for a good ten seconds straight, letting the cathartic feeling rush through him.

  “I’m glad you came back to life, SNTNL,” he said as he wiped his watering eyes.

  “…Me too.”

  He stood up and shut off the water. The suit was probably as clean as it was going to get. He took towels and dried it off before putting it on and, wasting no time, he headed off to the loading deck.

  He was through resting and waiting nervously. Even if he had to go into the depths of that place to find them, he
was going to do it.

  He’d be going in there unarmed, he realized. The spear had been crushed by the column along with the alien, and the flamethrower had been destroyed.

  “SNTNL,” he asked frankly, “should I make another flamethrower to bring with me? Or should I just scout it out before I do anything else?”

  “I honestly believe…” SNTNL began.

  Sam cut it off with a scoff and a shake of his head. “No, what am I thinking! The atmosphere.”

  “Right, the atmosphere could complicate things.”

  His best chance was to hope that nothing had gone wrong. He would move carefully and quietly enough that nothing would see him until he discovered whether his hope was right or not. If not, he could head back unnoticed by any threats, back to…

  To what? To starve waiting for a rescue ship to come to him? Unless he found that stash of food—much preferably with both Terri and Randy present—he would have next to nothing whatsoever to eat.

  Well… There is the possibility of using the cryo-pod for two. It would require a modification, but he believed he knew how he could cause the cryonic gases in the cryo-cell to leak out and cover the entire pod.

  He would cross that horrifying bridge if and when he came to it.

  He walked with no immediate fears through the creaking, wounded ship until he came to the loading deck, climbed down the cable through the hole, and dropped onto the planetoid’s surface. It was darker now than it had been, and the winds were whipping at intense speeds. He trudged through the storm following the faint tracks of the carrier Terri and Randy had brought with them. Each step he took was the new bravest step he’d ever taken.

  The dark maw of the cavern looked different to his mind, though it obviously hadn’t changed. Before, it seemed solemn and quiet, and now it seemed almost as if it pierced him with a cold, dead hatred. He focused on his breathing and hurried onward, his resolve deepening as he went, feeling small on the surface of the shadowed land.

  Even if this was suicide, he would prefer to die trying to help his friends than to cower alone.

  I’m going to find them inside with broken comm sets. We’ll all laugh about it, head to the ship, eat some dinner, Dr. Jones will save Rosalyn’s life, and we’ll all cheer at our success.

  He turned back just as he entered the cavern to see the Novara behind him. It was in ever worse shape, with wear and a few holes in the hull he hadn’t noticed before, apparently the work of the alien. The winds entered inside through the various holes in the hull. No, as painful as the thought was, they could not stay in that ship any longer.

  Moving forward again, he found himself in total darkness. His helmet light turned on and he continued following the tracks in the gray, dusty dirt, feeling the air around him change in the tunnel. The tracks were more defined now, the treads easily visible. Not only the treads, he realized, but two sets of footprints! He quickened his pace. Surely they wouldn’t have gone much further.

  He looked up at the side of the cavern at a small enclave and started.

  The carrier! Food of all kinds—dehydrated, but of all kinds nonetheless—was stacked up within it along with other vital supplies.

  “Hey!” he said, a smile on his face as he ran around the side of the carrier. “It’s me!”

  He looked onward and saw nothing. Nobody was there but him.

  And there were footprints continuing onward.

  For a long moment he stood there contemplating that fact, and as if to make his decision for him, a loud echo sounded behind him. Turning back, he saw that a wall of metal—a thick, featureless door—had slid down from the ceiling, trapping him in.

  He wanted to sit down, but couldn’t bring himself to do anything except look around helplessly for a sign that he was missing something, terrified that he would find Randy and Terri’s corpses not long after he would start following their tracks.

  The memory of Shauna’s unfortunate incident here in this place days ago haunted Sam anew. That he would lose the others like he had lost Shauna. Like Rosalyn had been nearly lost.

  He spent only a minute examining the doorway that now blocked the entire mouth of the cavern. Perhaps Terri and Randy hadn’t come back because they had been trapped inside by this door. But that still did not answer why it would have opened yet again to shut Sam inside, or why there were sets of footprints leading yet further into the ruins.

  Another attempt to reach them via radio turned out to be fruitless.

  He cursed to himself. “This is a death trap. What were they thinking?”

  Abruptly he heard SNTNL’s voice from his device. “I know you must still blame yourself for what happened to Shauna, Sam. But please don’t. You did everything you could.”

  He stopped and stared off into the darkness ahead, surprised by what he heard. “Well…thanks. I never knew an A.I. as thoughtful as you, SNTNL.”

  He received no response. Hearing the emergency programming was an interesting, new experience.

  He looked down again at the gray dust at his feet. There were two sets of clear footprints that had the same boot imprint as his own.

  But…those ones don’t, he thought with a start.

  Another set of footprints. His head swirled. Who could the third possibly be?

  He spent several minutes carefully stepping around and poring over those footprints beginning from the door, shining the light on them and studying them as best as he could. Now that he was searching for them, he could make out easily how there were three sets of footprints. Where did the third set begin? The prints looked bizarre—slightly large prints with no tread to them, deeper than the others but less distinctive. Yet they were undoubtedly footprints, and not those of the alien, which had worn nothing. Besides, there was no way it could have snuck out of the ship to hunt Randy and Terri and then come back in time for them to face it.

  These thoughts were getting him nowhere, he decided. There was nothing for him to do but go forward and discover what happened to them. He would not be a coward, even if it meant endangering himself.

  He looked at the carrier loaded with packages of food and supplies. He decided to search through it, looking for a space tent. He found one immediately and stuck it in his backpack along with a large supply of food and water, as much as he could carry. As much as he wanted to stop and eat now, he couldn’t bring himself to do that before he had at least made some forward progress.

  He jogged ahead. Pretty soon the sand at his feet gave way to stone, and the footprints gave way with it. He walked along with swift trepidation. Rippled columns appeared on either side of him, flanking the hallway into the darkness. He remembered it well. Last he had seen of this was when he, Randy, Terri, and Rosalyn hastily made their way back to the Novara so they could attempt to save Shauna’s life. He felt a similar sense of urgency now, only his destination was further in, not out. As he passed by pieces of debris and fallen boulders, he swore some of it wasn’t here before.

  “SNTNL, am I about to walk to my death?” he asked idly.

  “You are doing only what you know to do,” it responded. “Trust yourself.”

  Good advice, he thought.

  After a minute or two he thought he saw lights ahead. Following them, he came to the end of the hallway and beheld once again the colossal room within the mountain that stretched onward for what seemed nearly a mile, only with a huge difference now. Where before they couldn’t make out most of it without night-vision, he could now see everything quite well; there were lights in countless places along the dozens of tall structures that appeared seemingly from nowhere.

  Way out down and past the descending levels, the colossal room’s base looked quite different to Sam now. Where he recalled there having been slight, unnatural-looking risings and fallings in the land and dead-looking ramps and bridges crisscrossing them, now there were tall buildings all throughout the room, with the highest structures nearly level now the room’s highest floor. They were like thin, stony or metallic skyscrapers, each with
stylized holes cut into their outer layers and long, rectangular sections of yellow or green lights stretching along them. The edges of the four levels of the ovular room were also lit up with small, dot-like lights that beamed like tiny, yellow suns. They must have been electric, but even that description somehow seemed too simple to explain them. The huge structural support beams he had seen before stretched diagonally from the corners of the room’s walls and ceiling all the way down to the room’s base, each of them patterned with intricate lines as before and now lined with lights that seemed to burn with a garish green color.

  Echoes of movement and mechanical activity traveled all along the room—no, the city—and reached the ears of Sam, combining with the overwhelming scene before him to send a shock wave and goosebumps all through his body.

  The entire place was alive now, just as the ship’s sensors had picked up on.

  “SNTNL…tell me that all this wasn’t built by a civilization of killer monsters,” he said breathlessly. He couldn’t imagine that being the case. In all that he saw, however, there was no indication of any living creatures moving about; the only things that seemed “alive” were the structures.

  SNTNL replied, “It would not seem logical, I agree, Sam. …There appears to be some electrical power traveling through this place. Something with programming to it. If you can find somewhere to connect me to that system, it’s possible that I can attempt to learn about the civilization.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Even if we found somewhere like that, what makes you think you could decipher their language?” He couldn’t believe he was speaking those words even as he said them.