by Sarah Snyder
“He did; he said he did!” Maverick sobbed once before gaining control. “I heard him talking to the doctors when I was in the medical bay at Alpha Sect right after the attacks. He asked if I would survive and admitted he hoped I wouldn’t, so I wouldn’t have to live with the guilt.”
“Mav.” Sawyer’s heart broke for his little brother. “I had no idea he said that.”
“No, you didn’t, because I swore then I would never tell anyone else what happened; especially, you.” Maverick admitted softly.
“Why especially me?” Sawyer asked.
“I didn’t want you to hate me.” Maverick whispered.
“Mav, I could never hate you. Not for anything.” Sawyer assured as his eyes filled with moisture. “You’re my brother.”
Maverick’s expression cracked, releasing the dam of tears he tried to keep hidden. Sawyer stood and pulled Maverick into his arms, holding him tightly until his tears stopped. He pulled away from Sawyer’s grip, wiping his wet face with the sleeve of his tee shirt until only a tinge of pink across his cheeks told of his loss of control. “Sorry.” Maverick shrugged, unable to meet Sawyer’s eyes.
“No, it’s me who needs to apologize. I’ve treated you like my annoying kid brother for too long. You aren’t a child anymore and I have to accept that. I have to start treating you like the man you are.”
“Wow never thought I’d hear you apologize for anything.” Maverick marveled.
“Don’t get used to it, turd.” Sawyer returned playfully. The radio in Sawyer’s ear flared to life, letting out an ear-piercing screech before he could remove it from its home. “Holy hellfire and damnation!”
“What?” Maverick looked down at the discarded radio.
“That thing tried to deafen me.” Sawyer glared at the offensive radio.
“It must have been damaged in the cave-in.” Maverick pulled the radio from his ear and turned up the volume, so they could both hear. “We’re here, Zander.”
“Is everything alright down there? You didn’t respond.” Zander’s worried voice echoed in the cavern.
“Just a little cave in. I think we can get back through.” Sawyer eyed the pile of dirt he’d been under, seeing a wide opening at the top of the pile and the stream of light from the other side.
“Good, because I have not seen another method of escape from that tunnel.” Zander warned.
“We’re going to keep going.” Sawyer informed, swiping a bead of sweat from his brow and lowering his voice for Maverick’s proximity. “Does it feel hotter in here to you since that collapse?”
“A little, I guess.” Maverick answered thoughtfully.
“I made contact to inform you, as you’ve told me sharing information which may prove pertinent is preferred. And, Wil insisted I should.” Zander’s jumbled words were cut off by the sound of rustling as Wil commandeered the radio from the man’s ear.
“Oh, for hellfire’s sake, give me that. Sawyer, can you hear me?” Wil shouted into the radio.
“Yeah, what’s up?”
“You guys need to get out of there.”
“We are only three-quarters of the way through. There could still be survivors.” Maverick denied.
“Zander says this whole area is unstable. You need to get out. It could go at any time. Tell them.” Wil demanded, the radio buzzing from being passed back to its original owner.
“I believe I have discovered why the sinkhole formed; the soil was liquified by rising heat from beneath the mines.” Zander launched into a lengthy explanation. “This entire area is going through a liquefaction process due to the new phase technology they were using to take the rock and soil samples.”
“In English…” Sawyer suggested smartly.
“I was speaking English.” Zander retorted, innocent to Sawyer’s meaning.
“Zander say it like I have no idea what any of that means.” Sawyer advised, shaking his head at Zander’s overly literal understanding.
“The entire area is geologically unstable.” Zander simplified. “The cave-in was only the start.”
“We have to keep going. The survivors might not know the danger they’re in.” Maverick insisted pleadingly.
“There might not even be survivors.” Wil shouted into the radio. “It isn’t worth your lives.”
“We have to look!” Maverick cried. “We’re almost through; what are we looking out for, more tremors, an earthquake, or a sink hole? We can handle it.”
The tremors began again, this time from beneath their feet and splitting a crack in the floor of the mine. Steam billowed up from the crevasse, heating the area with a humidity Sawyer was unfamiliar and uncomfortable with. “Something tells me we aren’t talking about sink holes and earthquakes.”
“We are not talking about those things.” Zander informed with a seriousness Sawyer could feel through the radio. “The scientists here may have been looking for biologicals, but the composition of these soil samples has been altered by heat. I ran a scan a few minutes ago and there is a massive pocket of super-heated rock beneath this entire area.”
“Super-heated rock, like lava?” Maverick responded with a furrowed brow.
“No, there is magma beneath this entire area. Magma is the super-heated rock beneath the ground. It is not called lava until it breaches the surface.” Zander corrected as if speaking to an ignorant child. “It is this magma which caused the sinkhole, which is why it appeared as if burning.”
“What does all of this mean, Zander?” Sawyer prodded.
“It means, I believe this area may be facing a catastrophic geologic event in the near future.”
“What kind of geologic event?” Sawyer asked with growing concern.
“One which will change the topography of this hemisphere.” Zander’s response was followed by a long silence until he sighed and spoke again. “It’s called ‘Volcanization’. Simply put, it is a state resulting from the process of undergoing change by volcanic heat or action.”
“Volcanic heat or action?” Maverick asked with a gulp.
Sawyer’s eyes widened; “A volcano?!”
“That would be my assumption.” Zander agreed.
“Sawyer, you need to get back up here.” Wil demanded through the radio.
“We have to warn the survivors.” Maverick denied.
“Damnation, turd, they aren’t worth your lives!” Wil shouted.
“Zander, how long do you think we have?” Sawyer interrupted their argument.
“I cannot answer that. Any answer I gave would be purely guess; there is no possibility of accurately determining when the magma will find a suitable breach. The variables at play are numerous – and those are only the variables I can conceive. My best estimation would only be a guess.”
“Then guess.” Sawyer demanded as the ground tremored beneath his feet.
“I would estimate anywhere between ten minutes to an hour.” Zander’s voice faded, the radio cracking and hissing before going silent.
“Zander are you there?” Sawyer shook the device.
“It won’t work.” A feminine voice echoed through the cavern from deeper within. Sawyer and Maverick spun to confront the stranger, watching her step into the lights from their head gear reluctantly. The woman was tall and curvy, with wide hips and an ample bosom which strained at the fabric of her too-tight, dirt-stained, pink, buttoned blouse. Thick, horn-rimmed glasses and a soft afro surrounded her dark, copper face and her lips were dried and cracked from dehydration. “As the tremors get worse and more of the tunnels collapse, the radio signals can’t get through.”
“Who are you?” Sawyer asked the woman dubiously.
“Verity Urim; Dr. Verity Urim.” The woman’s smile didn’t reach her eyes as she studied them. “And you are?”
“Sawyer Hale, Alpha Sect.” Sawyer answered. “This is my brother, Maverick.”
“Alpha Sect? So then, you are native Flamourians?” the woman asked cautiously. Her shoulders slumped, and her chest heaved a sigh at Sawyer’s an
swering nod. “That’s good, but what are you doing here?”
“We were looking for you.” Maverick stepped in, quickly stammering an explanation at her raised brow. “Well, we were looking for survivors. Specifically, the people from the scavenger village not far from here.”
“The village.” Verity’s eyes brightened at Maverick’s response. “Are there survivors there?”
“No, we have the only survivor with us; Zander Kane?” Sawyer informed.
“Zander, of course. I’m glad to hear he is well.” Verity smiled, but her eyes grew sad and distant. “Dr. Charles always spoke fondly of him.”
“You knew Dr. Charles?” Sawyer questioned.
“Yes, we worked down here for many months until he became ill.” Verity nodded and crossed her arms as if hugging herself against a sad memory. “He and several others attempted to return to the village to seek sanctuary and say good-bye to loved ones, but we never heard if they made it or not.”
“They did – well, Dr. Charles did at least.” Sawyer knew by the woman’s understanding expression he didn’t need to inform her of his fate.
“He was in the last stages of the disorder. I hoped he would get to say his farewells before he lost all sense of himself.” Verity shifted uncomfortably.
“Are there others from the scavenger village here?” Sawyer asked hopefully.
“Sadly, there are not many of us left and none from the villages nearby.” Verity shook her head sadly. “We are all transplants now, from the EMRC.”
“The EMRC?” Sawyer questioned.
“The Earth-based Medical Research Collective.” Verity clarified. “We came here to look for the cause and cure for aliena inordinatio irascibilis or what you refer to as Alien Disorder.”
“Why?” Sawyer shook his head with a furrowed brow.
“Earth wanted to know if there was a cure for the disease before additional quarantines were put into effect.”
“Quarantines?” Sawyer repeated with a growing dread in his gut. “Flamouria is quarantined?”
“It should be; it is supposed to be. This latest coup of the Administration – taking persons off world without proper, preventative testing – is in violation of the quarantine.”
“Testing for what?” Maverick prodded.
Verity sighed and motioned for them to follow. “Come with me, I’ll show you.”
Sawyer noted she walked with a slight limp to her step and slump to her shoulders. “How long have you been down here?”
“We came down a couple of weeks ago, after the word of the Administration’s plans reached us.” Verity smiled over her shoulder at them. “Our equipment was safe from the electromagnetic pulse this far underground.”
“So, you know what’s going on out there? You know what’s happened?” Sawyer asked.
“Only the basics: The Administration feared a breach of quarantine and emitted a pulse to ensure the disorder wouldn’t leave the planet.”
“Is that what you were told?” Sawyer demanded heatedly. “Did they tell you they would destroy an entire Sect in their quarantine procedures?”
“No, but I assumed it would happen.” Verity answered with regret in her voice.
“And, you’re okay with that?” Sawyer felt his anger rising at the woman’s nonchalance.
“Of course not!” Verity spun around and confronted him, fire blazing in her eyes. “I’m a doctor; my mission is to preserve and protect life. I would never condone the extermination of any species, least of all human. The orders of the Administration have no bearing on my work, nor do I have any say in their decisions.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…” Sawyer stuttered.
“Do you believe we are down here sipping tea and eating truffles? You have no idea how difficult this is for us; to know we will die on this rock when our families are still on Earth; that they will never know what happened to us.” Verity’s voice cooled as she finished her rant, ending with a poorly hidden sob.
“What do you mean?” Maverick prompted.
“My team came here at the bequest of Earth’s government, not the corporately run Administration. When deep space travel was taken over by big corporation, we hoped it would mean faster results, but we weren’t prepared for them to begin making their own laws. Earth’s government is worried over how rampant aliena inordinatio irascibilis has become.” Verity sighed and continued walking as she finished speaking. “We sent a request to Earth for an immediate evacuation when others started getting sick and were rejected instantly.”
“So, you were looking for biologicals in the soil.” Maverick confirmed his theory. “You aren’t here for the ore at all.”
“Yes and no.” Verity nodded. “The ore was our first concern, as it is being shipped all over the verse, we had to be sure it wasn’t the cause of the disorder. Once we ruled it out, our attentions turned to the soil. We’ve been taking samples down here for nearly a year. The Administration offered to assist by providing more workers and the pulse technology to liquidate the rocks and soil to make our research easier.”
“And, have you found the cure?”
“We found something quite different.” Verity shook her head. “We noticed as we dug in certain areas, that some of our own crew were becoming infected, but they weren’t like those previously infected; they seemed to be infected with a different strain. They could think and communicate where previous victims were mindless, savages bent on feeding.”
“That’s horrible.” Maverick choked out.
“Why do you say that?” Verity asked curiously.
“Because they knew they were sick.” Maverick shuddered. “How horrible would that be to know you were going to turn into one of those things – to lose your mind?”
Sawyer thought about his last conversation with Carl upon learning of the man’s illness:
“You’re dying.”
“Alien Disorder,” Carl chuckled darkly at the words as if they held an ironic double meaning. He reached up a hand, pulling at the thin, brown of his hair and bringing away a clump of its length in his grasp. “Because they would rather call us savages than sick… It’s funny, all of this – all we’ve done, all we’ve explored – and still no greater mystery goes unsolved than our own minds.”
“The disease is mutating; it’s learning the best way to survive.” Verity’s comment dragged Sawyer from his thoughts, bringing him back to the present as the tunnel opened before them into a lit, high-tech medical research facility. “We believe it functions much like a parasite.”
“Is it?” Sawyer looked around the facility, eyeing the dozen medical professionals looking weak and pale in their white lab coats. “Is it a parasite?”
“Not exactly.”
“I’m confused.” Sawyer admitted.
“I’ll show you.” Verity smiled as she stopped beside a tented table, its contents carefully kept cool and sterile. “This is clostridium mutatis Flamouria; Flamourian Metamorphic Bacteria.”
Chapter 5. Accept
“A living organism capable of adapting to its surroundings. As it becomes aware of its environment and its hosts’ limitations, it can alter its chemical composition.” Verity Urim described the microscopic organism beneath the microscope. A portable computer – much like the one Zander retrieved from the village – held a magnified image of the bacteria. It floated innocently in its place, looking no more dangerous than a speck of dust.
“Aware; like it’s conscious? As in, the bacteria can think?” Sawyer scoffed.
“I wouldn’t necessarily say it thinks, but it is capable of altering itself based on its environment. I’ve never seen anything like it before. We’ve counted at least four different strains of the same bacteria. Once a new strain in introduced, the old strain either dies off or mutates. This means different reactions of the infected; while some are mindless savages, others might have higher brain function or actually have no symptoms at all.”
“Where did you find it?” Maverick asked curiously, bending t
o look at the table closely. Sawyer grabbed his brother’s shoulder, pulling him away from the contaminant.
“Everywhere.” Verity looked around, gesturing with her arms as she did so. “It’s in the soil, the dirt, and therefore it is in the air.”
“Are we infected?” Sawyer felt his skin crawl at the possibility.
“No, that is why I asked if you were native Flamourians. I would not have brought you here otherwise.” Verity waved her hand and sat in a nearby chair with a sigh as if drained of her energy. “Some are sensitive to it and others are not. I believe those born here have more of an immunity to it than those brought here from other worlds. At least, those of us from Earth were quicker to become infected than those born here.”
Sawyer was immediately relieved Wil’s injuries prevented him from coming into the mines. As a transplant, Wil and his family settled on Flamouria when Wil was a child and therefore he was not, technically, a native of the planet. Sawyer shuddered at the thought of how close his friend may have come to being infected. “So, do you know how to kill it? Do you have a cure?”
“Unfortunately, no.” Verity sighed regretfully, looking at the table with a wistful gleam in her doe-brown eyes. “We’ve tried to continue our studies, but every day more of us fail. And, with the ground so close to geological disaster, it is only a matter of time. It’s like the planet it’s trying to destroy the damage we’ve done the same way the Administration is burying their failures; annihilation.”
“The damage you’ve done?” Sawyer asked, his stomach twisting with the information.
“The drill used to liquify the rocks down here seemed to convert the disease.” Verity nodded. “We eventually decommissioned all but one, but it was too late. The bacteria are hardier, and its genetic make-up has mutated. Those infected still show the same aggression and penchant for cannibalism, but the bacteria are more heat resistant and its victims are significantly more cognizant.”
“As in, able to communicate with each other?” Sawyer questioned with a growing sense of dread. “Or, to form large groups to mount a planned attack?”
