"You need to do something. Engstrom and the others need help. You need to send more marines. You need to get them out of there. You need to wipe out all those bugs. Please, sir."
A low gristle of static hung in the airwaves.
It was silent so long that Roy thought he had lost connection with the Poros. "Admiral Kronos, sir?"
"Look, son. We have moved into a containment situation."
"What about sending more marines?"
Another pause. "They failed."
"What do you mean, they failed? I didn't see anyone go into the Acheron."
"Sergeant Smith made a valiant effort. His men fought hard, but in the end they succumbed to a stronger force. Honestly, they were on uneven ground and I should have seen the situation before sending them into it. I will take full responsibility for the decision made. A tactical error. We should have moved more slowly."
"You lost another marine team?"
"Son, I need you to be strong. Buy time. Survive."
"What are you talking about?"
"You don't know?"
"You're scaring me."
"Roy, we lost Marine Team 1 in the connector tube between the Acheron and the Poros."
"In the tube? But how? Oh, god, no." Roy turned around and stared through the glass windows of the control room. Gloom, shadows, pale emergency lights. "They're outside of the prison blocks? They're in the Acheron?"
"Find a place to hide. We will figure something out eventually."
"Eventually? You're not sending in another team."
Silence. "Be strong." Then the audio line cut.
Roy stared at the feeds of the prison cells and the areas outside the prison, the storerooms, the halls, his own bunkroom. Wherever he looked he saw shadows bending, movement at the corner of his eyes.
Roy trembled. "No, no, no."
The comms line screamed again. Roy jumped up from his seat, the hairs on the back of his neck standing up. He shot a quick glance through the windows behind him. Too much noise. Noise would draw them. The bugs in the Acheron.
He cranked down the volume of the audio feed but as he did so he heard the voice of Sergeant Engstrom. Roy quickly switched the feed to the headsets.
"Engstrom, I hear you. Are you okay?"
Waves of static, then her voice. "Roy, we need help down here. Where the hell is the extraction team? Can you point them to where we are?"
"Engstrom, they're not here."
"Where are they? How soon will they be here?"
"You don't get it. No one is coming. You're on your own. No one is coming to help you. You'll need to fight to survive."
Static pulsed over the line. He glanced at the video feed and she and the others stood in the shadows. He could see that she was not talking to the others. Finally she spoke to him. "Understood. Thanks, Roy. We're coming out. We'll see you soon."
Then static swelled and swallowed up anything that she might have said. But Roy knew that at this point it did not matter. She had one simple objective: escape the prison cells alive.
Roy pulled up the master controls on his tablet. The bugs were in the Acheron now. They had escaped the prison cell and infested the barge. Again he shivered. He was no soldier. He pulled up the control screen for the outer doors of the prison cells. He swiped them to unlock. Nothing to keep in there anymore that had not already escaped.
He heard something in the distance. The bugs were in the Acheron. He was alone. No one was coming to help him. He needed to find somewhere to hide.
Chapter Twenty-One
RICO, A MAINTENANCE technician on the Poros, stood on a ladder and tapped the vent in the wall again. He pressed his face close to it to see if he could feel any breeze on his cheek. Nothing. He puffed from the joint and blew smoke at the vent. The smoke hung heavy. No air to push it away. He turned to Phuong.
She stood in the center of the maintenance room, bent over her tablet, swiping and tapping into the mobile keyboard. Other than the table in the center of the room, and mismatched chairs, the room was filled with boxes and shelves of mechanical and electrical parts and a wall of tools. Another wall was lined with desks and video feeds and system control switches. A bead of sweat trickled down the side of Phuong's face. It was getting a little hot in the room. The whole of the maintenance room was smoky with weed, heavy with the skunky smell.
"Admiral Kronos is not going to like this," said Rico. He turned his attention back to the center of the room, and a table with bug bar wrappers. "I'm hungry."
"That old fart doesn't like anything," said Phuong. "Grumpiest guy I've worked for."
"You got anything to eat? Any more bars?"
Phuong shook her head. Her eyes were bloodshot. Her lids hung heavy looking like she was about to fall asleep. "The whole of the atmospherics on the Poros is showing some kind of malfunction."
"Just the fans, right? We're not going to have a problem with the actual air, are we?"
"Talk about a nightmare. Kronos would burst a blood vessel in his head," said Phuong. "Nah. It looks like it's just the fans."
"Another rat got caught in the motor maybe. I thought we got the last of those vermin. Need to set more traps I suppose." Rico stepped down from the ladder and flopped down in one of the chairs in the maintenance control room. He blew smoke rings toward the ceiling.
"When was the last time we did a visual inspection down there?"
Rico laughed. "According to our inspection log, just yesterday, but I'm pretty sure we were both passed out on the floor in here."
"This better not get us into any trouble."
"What are they going to do? Demote us any lower? Doesn't get any lower than the graveyard maintenance crew."
Phuong pushed the tablet away and sprawled in her own chair. She shoved off the wheels and glided until she bumped into Rico. "You think it might just fix itself?"
Rico laughed. "That's what I like about you. Your eternal optimism."
"Goes hand in hand with your undying sloth."
Rico picked up his tablet and scrolled through to the analytics screen. "I guess we got a choice here. We can just ignore this problem and hope it goes away. Or do nothing."
Phuong punched him in the arm. "We've gotta do something. In about an hour, the system will send a notice to the command center. Then they're going to be all over us. Kronos busting a blood vessel in his head."
Rico spit a leaf off his tongue. "I guess one of us could go down to the fan room and see what's going on."
"Not it."
"So, it's me?"
"Yeah, you're short straw."
"No insults below the belt. I'm normal sized."
They both broke down into laughter.
"You gotta go," said Phuong.
"Rock, paper, scissors."
"No, you just go."
Rico tilted forward in his chair. It took him a moment to find his balance. He sucked in a few mouthfuls of air. That was better. "Seriously?"
She smiled at him. "Please."
He wanted to fight more but he liked Phuong. He thought she was cute. He enjoyed spending time with her. Maybe one day it might turn into something more. They weren't supposed to fraternize on the Poros, but that was one rule that was openly overlooked. With Phuong, he would definitely pay the price for getting caught.
"All right." He pushed himself to standing. "But you owe me, okay. Big time. One of these days when I ask for a favor, you gotta say yes. Is that a deal?"
She cocked her head at him. "Depends what you ask, short straw."
He suddenly could not swallow. Maybe this affection was not one direction. His breath hurried. "I'm going."
Without looking back at her, he zipped up his coveralls, took a sip from his water bag, and checked the tools in one of the bags hanging by the door. He tested several of the flashlights and powered up his analytics tablet. Cables, check. Multitools, check. Headlamp, check.
He turned back to Phuong, she had her feet up on the table, headphones on, laughing at a video she had p
ulled up on her tablet.
He glanced again at their main systems screen. The fans were blinking yellow. Alongside, he saw a countdown timer. Another forty minutes and if it was not fixed, he would have to deal with Kronos, or worse probably Kray. That man had no respect for the maintenance crew. It was if he thought the ship ran on rainbows and sparkles.
"See you soon, Phuong." She did not look up from her tablet. Even at the door, he could hear the muffled music from funny blooper compilation video she was watching.
The air was cleaner when he stepped out into the hallway. Even as the door slid shut, a puff of smoke slipped out. He waved at it with his hand and then hurried down the hall a dozen steps before realizing he was going the wrong way. He glanced up at the camera at the end of the hall. He hoped no one was watching right now.
Ten minutes later, Rico stepped out of the elevator to the mechanical level of the ship. Engines hummed and the walls shook. He put earmuffs on, touched the wall, and consulted the hologram map. Corridor A to 7, then three doors down on the right, a short hallway and then the door at the end. Pretty straightforward but he repeated the directions out loud one more time.
At the intersection of Corridors A and 7, he caught a glimpse of someone all the way down close to 13, maybe 15. Fool was sprinting down the hall. Crazy fools in maintenance. A badge of honor really. He could not quite make out who it was. Looked like McMaster, but McMaster running, that made no sense. Maybe his experiments with ship whiskey had resulted in some strange caffeinated version.
After a few moments, Rico followed Corridor 7 down to the third door.
It would not open. He turned the handle again and pushed more firmly. This time it opened but against resistance. He leaned his shoulder into it and got it moving more quickly.
The odor was the first thing that turned Rico's head. It was a sour, rotting stench. The overhead light was out. He flooded the hall with his headlamp. Dark glistening strands stretched from floor to ceiling. A path formed through to the door on the far end. He pulled a screwdriver out of his bag and touched one of the strands with the end. It was sticky, gelatinous and the light shone through it.
He brought up Phuong on his phone. She took her time answering. "What's going on down there, Rico?"
"We got a problem down here. I don't know if something died down here or what."
Her face came up on the screen. "Show me." He turned his phone so she could see the hall.
"What could have died down there? I mean seriously. We're out here in the middle of space. Does it smell like a rat?"
He bent down and poked at more of the strands with his screwdriver. "I'm wondering if this doesn't have something to do with Porter."
"The bug food guy? You think something escaped from his feedstock?"
"Doesn't this look like something from a bug?"
"You think maybe some of his bugs got out? I heard talk about problems with the feedstock supply and possible short term rationing. I bet that's what this is. We'll probably get a commendation for finding this."
"We?" Rico laughed. "I'm the one down here."
"Fine, then I'm coming down too."
"Too late for that." Rico started walking through the hall. "You'll be thankful. It smells to high holy hell down here. Something must be dead. For a while." His hand touched some of the slime on the walls. "Oh, god, this is disgusting."
"I'm coming down. You don't get all the glory." She cut the connection.
"Don't do that." He called her back but she did not pick up.
Rico kept walking. He'd figure this out before she got here. He was willing to share the praise for whatever they did find but it really did stink down here, and he imagined the stench of it was going to stick to his clothes. No use in both of them smelling like death.
He reached the door at the end of the hall. A small sign read "Air Vent Room." The door was slightly open, the gunk having formed between the edge of the door and the jam.
Rico tried to peek around to see inside the room but the door was not open enough. Plus to do so would require putting his head closer to the slime on the wall than he was comfortable with.
He noticed that his hand, the one that had touched the slime, was tingling. He wiped it on the thigh of his coveralls. Still it tingled. It burned a little. His hand was red and the skin peeling back. This was not good. He needed to wash his hand.
But first he wanted to take a look inside the air vent room and assess what the damage might be. He pulled at the door and it reluctantly opened. No light came on. Whatever had knocked out the light in the hall had done the same in the room.
He pulled the door open further. God, his hand burned. He almost wiped his eyes and then caught himself. He did not want to transfer whatever was on his fingers to his eyes. He could go blind.
Maybe he should wait for Phuong. Or maybe he should just turn around and call this one in. Hopefully none of the responding marines would notice his blood shot eyes or smell the weed on him. Most of them would not care but the hard ass sergeants generally were a different story and he really did not want the grief from them or getting a disciplinary mark on his record.
He'd figure this out on his own. Whatever it was could not be all that bad. If it were, someone else would have done something about it.
He called Phuong one more time on the phone. Still no pick up.
Rico adjusted his headlamp, pulled a flashlight from his bag, and stepped all the way into the room.
He made it three steps in before something lifted him off his feet and threw him against a wall. He hit it hard. Sharp pain burned through his shoulder and jaw and bones cracked in his neck. Everything blacked out, and then it came scattering back. His breath poured out of his mouth. His headlamp shone on glistening strands hanging from the ceiling like stalactites. He coughed, sputtered, tried to push himself up to one elbow but shearing pain raced through his shoulder.
What just happened?
He was covered in the slime. That stuff was going to burn his skin. Already he could feel the tingling along the side of his face. He needed to get help.
Where was his phone? Did he leave the tool bag back in the hallway? He could not remember. What hit him?
In the light of the headlamp, now flickering and dull, he saw his flashlight. Behind the flashlight, on the opposite site of the room, a shadow shot from the left to the right. He tried to track it but it hurt too much to move his head.
He reached for the flashlight. Just before he touched it, the headlamp died. He was thrust into complete black. He stretched his fingers until he felt the cold metal of the light. He closed his hand around it and breathed a sigh of relief.
Then he heard something moving on the far side of the room.
"Phuong? How did you get down here so fast? Be careful in here. Call for help."
A rapid clicking answered him.
He cursed.
He thumbed on the flashlight and shone the beam across the room. He saw scores of eggs on the floor, fleshy, black with a yellow oozing crown. The entire room was filled with the slime. It covered and slipped into the air vents. He flashed the light over the machines that generated the power to the fans. They were covered in the slime. Damaged, he thought.
Then his light crossed over a figure. Large, almost skeletal. It disappeared in the shadows. He tried to track it but it moved too fast.
"Phuong, don't come in here, please. Oh, god, please, no."
He needed to warn her. If she came in here, she was as good as dead. She needed to get help.
He rolled into his belly. The sharp pain and the awful stench made him puke. He coughed. He wiped at his mouth with the back of his hand, and then he began to crawl to towards the door. He would get out of the room, he would find his bag and he would warn her not to come here. Why had she been so stubborn in insisting on coming down here?
Tears ran down his cheeks. He crawled, following the waving beam of the flashlight.
The door was close now. He reached out a hand and gra
bbed the edge of it. He could see his bag on the floor, and better the door at the other end of the hall.
Suddenly a sharp ringing cut through the air. But it was not from the bag in the hall. It was from his pocket. He had the phone on him the whole time. He could have called Phuong.
He reached back and pulled the phone from his pocket. The screen was lit with an incoming call. Phuong's face showed up as an icon on his screen.
He smiled. He could save her.
But before he could answer, he was hurled through the air again. This time he hit the wall so hard that he did not wake up.
Chapter Twenty-Two
SNAKE AND THE others retreated from the containment room. The horrific screams of Big T echoed in his head.
Snake whispered to the retreating crew. "Game's over. No more running. The bugs will pick us off one by one. We're turning the tide now."
"What are you proposing?" asked Crunch.
"We're going bug hunting. We go after them. We kill them. We improve our odds. We're not going to survive by running and hiding. We turn the tide."
"I'm all for that." Crunch slapped a palm against the head of the axe. "Bug hunting."
"Count me in, boss," added Fifi.
Snake continued talking to the remaining survivors: Engstrom, Hatt, Thor, and the marines, Harrison, Scully, and Li. "Safety in numbers, which means we stick together, but let's also play the odds. No one runs off like that again. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Let's split into two teams. Half advance, and the other half hold back to either bring in the big guns when needed or to run like hell. I'll lead the advance team."
"I'm with you," Engstrom said quickly. "Scully, Li, and Harrison, you are the second squad. Bring in the heat if we need it." The woman seemed fearless. Snake wondered if they were making a different breed of soldier now in boot camp. After what she had witnessed through the window of the containment room, he had expected her to buckle a little. He was underestimating her apparently.
Fifi and Crunch volunteered themselves to the advance team as well.
"Four of us will be enough." All of them were armed with guns, except Crunch who shouldered an axe.
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