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by Donald Morrison


  “I trust you slept well,” the sergeant continued.

  The man grunted, his gaze still held fast to the pile of slop in front of him. “Have we reached the colony?”

  Dom leaned over to Fascio who sat next to him and whispered, “Who is this prick?”

  “Some fancy suit from Xenocorp.”

  “Jesus. One of you guys wanna help him retrieve the piece of wood that seems to have lodged itself in his ass?”

  There was a small chuckle from the table opposite Sarge, Portofino and the rep. Baker could only assume that the cackle was directed at the newcomer and lifted his eyes to the others for a brief moment, eliciting their silence.

  “We’re about an hour out, little less,” Baker replied, his gaze burning into Dom for a moment, who stiffened up in response.

  “Good,” the rep replied. “Any contact yet?”

  “I’ve hailed them twice since we resurrected, nothing yet,” Portofino answered, pausing with her spoon hung right before her lips. “Still dark.”

  Talmadge had picked up his utensil, but paused at the pilot’s words. He turned his head and glanced at Baker. “Resurrected?”

  “Military term. Reserved for space flight. We use it instead of waking up, cause after enough times under for long hauls, you kind of equate the dreamless trips as dying. When we wake up, we’re resurrected to fight another day.”

  The rep shifted nervously, and Baker could see that he was uncomfortable with the reference. He could also see by how he avoided eye contact with the others, as if locking gazes would spread an unseen parasite between them, that talking to the rest of the crew would be a communication relayed through himself to them. There was an aura of arrogance that extruded from him that gave Baker the feeling the other man was too good to talk to the lowly grunts. Maybe the man just hated the military, some past traumatic event, or another nouveau-hippy war hater. Either way, he despised it when people disrespected his unit, and even more so, when snobby assholes talked down to him from their self-incepted pedestals. Slowly he lifted his spoon and took another bite, chewing for a moment before swallowing the thick paste along with the words that yearned to spit forward.

  “So what’s the occasion Sarge?” Wilkes asked from the next table over.

  “Yeah,” Corlin asked, setting his spoon down. “Any idea why the hell we’re being sent out here in the first place? I mean, doesn’t exactly take a whole squad to fix a broken radio.”

  “No,” Dom chuckled. “Just Wilkes.” He smirked, a grin spreading across his thin face. “Coulda just shot him across space in an escape pod and been done with it— saved us all the trip.”

  Fascio tapped him in the chest with a grin. “Right.”

  Baker listened to the exchange, his own personal amusement playing into its allowance before cutting it short. “If you ladies are done,” he snapped, turning his gaze to the man next to him. “Mr. Talmadge. Would you care to elaborate to the crew why exactly it is that we have just traveled halfway across the galaxy?”

  Talmadge squirmed a little bit in his seat at having to address the unit that stared at him with malintent. Inside, Baker took a small amount of pleasure in it. Then the rep set his spoon down and took a deep breath. “So as you know, the earth’s resources are failing. Oil is already depleted and natural gas is running dangerously low. It’s estimated that within the next twenty years, there will be none left. Our company; Xenocorp, has taken it upon themselves to make Mars a livable habitat; a second Earth if you will.” A hint of pride slithered into his practiced speech. “We’ve been building a large community around a central atmospheric processing plant and have been working day and night to create and sustain a breathable atmosphere. We hope to be able to start fully colonizing it within the next twenty years, with additional facilities being constructed upon its completion.”

  “Save us the sales pitch man,” Dom sneered. “We just wanna know why it is we got drug out here.”

  “You stow that shit devil,” Baker snapped, Dom once again resting his finger on that single button that triggered his anger to rise. This time, the look he gave him closed his lips permanently. The other knew exactly what would await him if he spoke up again, his immediate desire stifled at the thought of his last punishment.

  The crew could see Talmadge cringe, and he fidgeted with his hands for a moment before looking to Baker, who took the cue to take over from there. “Wilkes, would you be so kind as to pull up the last transmission that was sent from Attis Station?”

  The Lance Corporal moved his tray aside and pushed a small button on the underside of the table. Instantly a hologram image of a keyboard illuminated on the surface in front of him. He typed across it for a second before a holographic image of a vid-screen popped up in the middle of the table. Frozen in frame was an older man in a grey lab coat with the Xenocorp logo embroidered neatly across the lapel. He reached forward and tapped one of the buttons on the keyboard and the video came to life.

  “Now what you’re going to see here is strictly classified,” Talmadge said as the video crackled to life. “No one outside of the company and your commander here has seen this, and it is and will be considered a criminal offense if any of this information manages to find its way outside of this room.”

  “Yeah,” Dom chuckled. “Cause there’s a hell of a lot of people around to share this with…”

  Fascio and Vuong chuckled, the smile growing across Dom’s cheeks. Immediately all three stifled down with a single glance from Baker, who then turned his attention to Wilkes and nodded.

  Wilkes pressed the button that began playback and the screen snapped to life.

  “Our excavation team found something today. It’s huge; unprecedented. We have found irrefutable proof that there was, in fact, life on Mars prior to our arrival; possibly an entire civilization.” A smile grew across the scientists face. “What we have here, is an absolute, archeological and scientific goldmine. At the moment, we have no idea what it is, but what we can say, is that it is a single, pyramid-like structure, and that it is unquestionably alien in origin. Our teams have done thermal, seismic as well as radio and x-ray scans of the structure, which in design, seems consistent with the pyramids in Earth’s Egypt. The results are astonishing. We have found that that there are a series of tunnels running through it, with a large, central chamber that they seem to circumvent. There is no apparent entrance, but our excavation team is currently preparing to breach the outer wall at one of the sealed exit points to investigate further. We will send regular updates with any findings we may make, as well as soil, atmosphere and carbon samples for dating. Our initial analysis has determined that this structure has been here for nearly a half a million years. But as our science lab is still growing and some of the equipment we have is not as sophisticated as that which is in the labs back on earth, we must wait for the shipped samples to be confirmed. We will continue to do as much as we can here, and are all very excited.”

  Talmadge shifted nervously, pushing his seat out and making his way to the processer on the wall where he filled his cup with water.

  Baker watched him take the glass down in a series of gulps, and waited for him to turn around before he continued. “Could you pull up the next one?” he asked, glancing quickly to Wilkes before letting his gaze fall back to Talmadge who stood silently, staring at the blank screen hanging in the air. He had seen the videos prior to leaving earth, and the hairs on his arms tingled to life beneath his sleeves at the thought of having to sit through it again. He had sat awake for the two days following before announcing to his unit that they would be shipping out, and clenched on the inside at not being able to share the information to them prior. But protocol dictated that things be kept quiet before they departed; a stack of nondisclosure agreements ensuring his silence. So he took a deep breath, steeled his gaze and then continued. “The company received this transmission just two weeks before all communications ceased. This next one, is one of the final communications from the colony.”

&n
bsp; He nodded to Wilkes, who reached out and pressed on another file. A video very similar to the last popped up on the screen. This time, it was a colonist, not a scientist, and the look on the woman’s face was vastly different than the bright, smiling man that had spoken prior.

  “I’m not sure what they found out there, admin has been pretty hushed about the whole thing. But something’s wrong… They found that structure out there a week ago, and now all of the sudden people are beginning to get sick. And that’s not all. People are dying. The science team won’t say anything, and medical’s been quarantined since this morning. I don’t know where Kyle is, and Danny… Danny told me he saw his grandmother this morning. She died on earth two years ago. But the way he described her… We’re all scared. The whole facility is falling apart. There’s this, whisper. Like a familiar voice. Everyone’s hearing it but pretending not to. I know it… I’m scared. We all are…”

  The woman stared at the screen for a moment when a shadow moved past the hallway behind her, a dark shape in the dim corridor. She tensed, her pupils dilating nearly to the point of all color disappearing, swallowed by the growing black. Then she nodded softly and reached out, turning the camera off.

  “What the hell..?” Dom whispered, just loud enough for the others to hear.

  A thick unease worked through the room, creeping silence pressing back in between them. Baker didn’t have to lift his gaze to know the looks held on his units faces. He knew all too well the cold knot that was growing in their guts, the tightening of flesh across their backs. Silence screamed between them, the choir of their breath stifled deep within clasped throats behind gaping mouths. An eternity passed, the cold in the air whispering back at them, before the company rep cleared his throat, snapping the squad from their daze and allowing a rush of breath to be expelled into the room. “That, was one of the last transmissions we received. Since then, the colony has gone black. So the company felt as though it would be pertinent to have yourselves, and the person in charge of acquisition and appraisal; myself, go see what all the fuss is about. I understand that some of you,” his gaze moved to Dom like a snake following the heat signature of a mouse, “are not so keen on this journey, but I can assure you that if Xenocorp finds it important enough to elicit this trip, then it is by far, more important than whatever it was that you happened to be doing before this.” He paused, glancing to Baker who sat surprised to see the business side of the snarky man manifest so quickly. But Baker knew it was only in a moment of other’s weakness that the man’s courage could flare. “Now when we arrive, we will assess any damage or problems that may have occurred with their communications relay, and I will meet with the director to retrieve, personally, any findings that they may have acquired post transmission. The rest of you are here as a just in case scenario.”

  “Damn,” Vuong whispered to Fascio who nodded almost unnoticeably in reply.

  The unease that hovered in the air wore thick. Questions were lost in an image of frailty cut short; depleted sanity lost to the echoing crack of a single gunshot.

  “Well ok,” Baker said, tearing at the thick sheet that had blanketed them. “It’s plug and play. We get there, run it by the numbers, and we’re back on Earth before we have time to shit out breakfast.” He glanced at each of the marines one by one, catching eye contact with each before moving on. “I know none of us wants to be here, but this is what we get paid to do, so let’s get it done quickly. I don’t want to be out here any longer than I have to.”

  “I just need to give everyone a quick checkup before we land,” another woman said, her small voice singing across the room. “Let’s give em a clean bill of health when we get there.”

  “I could use a thorough checkup,” Dom grinned, a thin layer of insinuation flirting inside his words.

  Baker was about to snap when the chief medical officer responded coolly and without missing a beat. “Trust me DiLeonardo, I’ve checked that, and it isn’t anything worth writing home about.”

  Baker smiled as the others around Dom’s table burst into a fit of laughter.

  ‘OOOHhhhhhhhh….” Fascio said, slapping his friend in the chest before standing up. “And you thought space was cold. Damn… Way to go Lanskey.”

  Above them a small speaker pulsed to life, a thin rhythmic beeping that hovered on audible, announcing that they were nearing orbit.

  “That’s our signal,” Baker said, sliding his chair out to rise. “You heard the lady. Make your way to med bay and then find your posts on the double.”

  4

  Baker sat on the edge of a bunk in a small room designated for officers. He had turned the holo-vid over again and again in his mind, trying multiple ways to rationalize it as a singular occurrence, or a case of bad timing; one person cracking from the pressures of deep space mining followed by a communications outing. But there was just something that didn’t sit right, something that clawed deeply at him, a sixth sense honed by years in the service that tingled up his spine and screamed from the depths that something was badly wrong. He was about to lead his squad right into a really shitty situation, he could feel it. It was the desperation in the woman’s eyes, the loss of hope, and that final moment that must have plunged like a coffin nail into her mind as she made that ultimate decision. Something on that planet had gone horribly wrong, and no matter how he phrased it to himself, no matter how much he listened to the pompous representatives words, he knew it. Nothing good awaited them.

  He flicked the edge of the photograph in his hand with his forefinger over and over as his mind compartmentalized their mission, mentally filing things in order of importance and efficiency. He wanted this to be another short trip, out and back with just enough time between for him to force back the emotions the picture in his hand conjured. But the video, the quickly organized trip, the secrecy hovering like a cloud around his assigned mission, and the company’s involvement in the whole thing, it all told him this would not be that trip. He could feel it growing in his gut that this was going to be another long one. So he took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, flicking the picture one last time before placing it in his shirt pocket without a second glance.

  “We’re approaching orbit, all hands at stations. Prepare for entry.”

  He startled as Portofino’s voice crackled over the ship-wide comms. He inhaled sharply, rubbing his face with his hands as he stood to make his way out into the hallway. As he made his way to the bridge his thoughts continued to revolve around the mission ahead. The rep had told him that they believed it to be a faulty communications relay, but it was his job to assume that was the best case scenario, and to prepare for what the back of his mind whispered was otherwise. He approached the bridge and took a seat next to Portofino. Behind, Vuong, Talmadge and Wilkes filtered in.

  “Let’s see if we can get em on the comms,” Baker said, his eyes scanning the planet’s surface on the vid screen in front of them.

  He’d never been to Mars, but as he looked across the reddish orange surface, a nervous anticipation built inside him. He hated space travel, had regretted accepting the position almost as quickly as he had made it, but there was one thing that never got old for him; seeing things that most people only got to see in pictures and holovids. Every time he saw a new planet, or stepped onto new terrain, it reminded him of the second reason he had applied for transfer to the space corp, the first being an escape from the pain he felt when he was back home, surrounded by an empty house, no laughter or faces smiling back at him; emotions torn from him on his last leave, stolen away by an emotionless phone call that his wife and daughter had been killed. A chill ran through him, and he could almost feel the small photograph burning its way through the pocket at his chest, piercing into his heart. He pushed the thought back and pulled his focus to the surface of a planet they were approaching, one that his grandparents had only seen in on the net, the same his parents thought would never be set upon. Inwardly, despite the pain that had just been pushed back down moments before and the uneasi
ness that wrapped its icy grip around him, if only for the briefest of moments, he felt something his years in military service had beaten out of him; special.

  “Attis Station, This is military transport vehicle Tango Sierra 163 with the Earth Military Federation. We’re here under authorization of Xenocorp to check your communications relay. We are on approach vector and are requesting immediate docking authorization. Again, this is military transport vehicle Tango Sierra 163 with the Earth Military Federation, please advise.”

  The crew on the bridge sat in silence, waiting for a reply.

  Shhhick. ZZrrckkreaaaahhhhh!!!

  Baker could feel his the pulsing in his chest increasing as his heart began to pump faster. The sound that had torn through the speakers had at first sounded like a garbled static, but there was something behind it, something that screamed of exquisite pain, scraping metal blended with tearing flesh and ecstatic moans. No one spoke as the sound continued. The electric response filled the bridge, squirming between the group. Then the speakers fell silent and the comms became still again.

  “What in the hell was that?” Baker asked, looking to Portofino who stared at the speakers in front of them. His mind told him that it was simply static, but that other part tugged rapidly at the back of his thoughts, insisting that he had heard something else behind it.

  “Static Sarge,” Portofino replied, pulling her gaze back to the projection screen in front of them. “Seems like even their short range comms are malfunctioning.” Though her words were delivered as a matter-of-factly statement, he could sense the light tinge of a question behind them.

  “Did that sound strange to you?” Baker asked, the gooseflesh under his sleeves still tingling.

  “Could be interference,” Portofino replied, quickly skirting the question. “Probably just a malfunction.” She had heard something as well, but she didn’t believe in ghosts or goblins, or things that crept in the darkness or hid under beds. She was a science officer and a pilot, the latter taking the forefront only in the three years prior. There was no room for the supernatural for her. If it couldn’t be explained, it wasn’t real, and the sound she had heard; the images it had conjured— There was no way they could have been real. No. It had simply been static, scrambled by some type of interference. “Gonna be a bumpy entrance,” she said, pressing a series of buttons on the curved console before her. She reached out and clicked the open communication button. “All right everyone, we’ll be entering atmosphere in minus three. We’re gonna hit turbulence so make sure you’re strapped in.”

 

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