Psychonautz

by Gentry Race

  "Listen, we are all stuck down here—”

  "You weren't in a fucking cell being hacked on, Tang!" Fery shouted. "You get to live up on that plush orbital station all because of Hastings. Just because you're fucking her."

  He took another drink and remained silent.

  "What do you need?" Fery asked. "A good romp to get things done?

  Tang walked to Fery, her head waist-high to him from where she lay on the bed. "Listen, I'll get you lost on the radar once this nuke shit blows over."

  Fery placed her hands on his waist. "I can’t wait till you blow over me."

  "No, I need something else.” Tang said with a smile. "I need you to check on Nathan."

  13

  A flash of light pulsed against the blackness of space like clockwork, and every five minutes a ship’s hull was revealed, flashing its blocky alien design. The design complemented the mech suit that Vorian Dumaga of Acedia wore as he sat comfortably in his small cruiser, pulling closer to the large freighter that dwarfed him in size.

  Vorian’s windows were darkened more than usual due to the radiation this pulsar star liked to give off. He reached for the hand crank to his right just as the ship touched the soft docking pads of two jointed arms. Pulling down on the crank initiated the docking sequence, and it was all automatic from there.

  The soft pads of the docking arms squeezed and hissed as the pressure maintained a firm grip, lifting the craft into the bay. After being placed precisely between two identical ships, Vorian felt the artificial gravity engage, and two of his stomachs sank. If his skin hadn’t already been green under his armor, it certainly would have turned so from the movement. He grabbed for a scarab-like charm that hung from his neck for strength and prayed to the Mintaka.

  The door unhinged from his craft, and Vorian could now make out the ship’s familiar bay that he’d helped construct with what was left of his family’s wealth on Acedia. He jumped from the ship, his heavy boots landing beneath what looked like hominid legs covered in smooth yet hexagonal rock-tech fabric.

  As his helmet unfolded, collapsing into his neck, his thin, slitted eyes peered around. They were sharp, like those of a dinosaur or dragon, and colored a deep crimson shade that contrasted nicely against his rusty green skin. He was proud of his skin oxidation. At least he didn’t hide it like some Acedians.

  “Lord Vorian, has the gift been delivered?" Volup asked.

  "Yes," Vorian said.

  Volup resembled Vorian’s physical appearance, though he was wearing a purple sash with yellow scripting. His posture was more slumped over than Vorian’s, and he constantly clasped his hands together like he was praying to a deity. His actions exposed two slight nubs on his back that wiggled a bit in excitement.

  Vorian never let his pace down. "The Invidian bugs have shown their worth, and we’re preparing for phase two. How are the experiments going?"

  Volup tried to match Vorian’s speed as they passed several more cruisers and doors before finally entering the corridor. Vorian's hard boot structure morphed into three-toed feet as he stepped into the strange hallway. The floor was covered in a long filament with light shining from its tips like a fiberoptic rug. As the two walked, the agitation of their steps stirred the fibers, causing small bioluminescent reactions.

  "They were… unsuccessful, sir," Volup said reluctantly.

  The top part of Vorian’s bird-like face was stiff, but he kept up the brisk pace.

  The walls they passed were covered in a bright red satin, and the preserved bodies of strange and exotic animals from different worlds sat behind trophy glass. Vorian cherished these possessions, believing the killing of each one had made him stronger.

  "Do you have the Cryptoc now?" Vorian asked, rounding the corner to a small room.

  The room was no bigger than an average cruiser in Vorian's fleet. Despite being equipped with rancid glass beakers and what looked like strange, scientific experimentation equipment, the room felt more like a torture chamber than a laboratory. But these lines blurred when the end justified the means.

  "AAAAAHHHHH."

  A shriek echoed from behind a sheet divider. Beyond the divider, Vorian could make out the silhouette of an elongated, hominid-like alien that was strung up by its hands. A small cap with short, protruding wires that resembled a pinhead was clamped on its cranium. Stepping past the remains of dead alien corpses and kicking a human skull to the side, Vorian approached a doctor who was focused on a device that was feeding a current into the helpless alien. Sparks crawled atop the wire spikes. The instrument the doctor was using showed billions of connections that resembled tendrils, like galaxies in the universe, but Vorian knew it wasn’t galaxies. It was the creature's neuronal connections.

  The doctor pushed in on another region of the creature's mind, tapping it with a virtual electrode that sent the creature into another deafening shriek.

  The creature, its skin a pale white with deep black eyes tattered with specks of light, arced its back and convulsed violently.

  "It's going into shock," Vorian interrupted, shaking his head.

  The doctor ignored him. Protruding through the lab coat he wore, two small nubs could be seen wiggling about with excitement. The doctor pushed further on the neurons that were being overloaded until the creature was delivered a sudden death.

  Vorian slammed his suited hand on the lab table, smashing a dirty beaker onto the carpeted floor. "How many so far?"

  With large eyes, the doctor finally acknowledged Vorian by slowly turning toward him. His face was similar to Vorian’s since they were both part of the same species, though not the same race. The doctor was similar to Vorian as one breed of dog would be to the next.

  "This was the last one," the doctor said with disappointment.

  Vorian stood in silence, holding back the rage that ignited inside him, and he wondered if it had been a mistake to trust an Invidian. He would smash all the lab equipment, along with the doctor's flat face, if it would bring him the results he wanted.

  "Why is it not working?" Vorian demanded.

  "The cerebral cortex is different among all species. Perhaps the testing is too rigorous?"

  Vorian shook his head in disappointment. "We can't lower the parameters, or we get nothing."

  "I understand, my Greatness, but unless you have a species that can regenerate their flesh, I think this testing is useless," the doctor said.

  Regenerative.

  Vorian knew of one species that was regenerative, having given up their flesh for a nanoprinted body centuries ago. But the Starcadians were peaceful harvesters of the Æther now, lacking the foresight required to create his new weapon. What Vorian needed was a species with forethought and the ability to withstand the procedure, but the frail bodies of the humans were worthless.

  "Sir?" a voice sounded from the doorway of the lab. Vorian recognized it as Valor, his trusted second in command.

  He stepped away to see Valor standing tall in a fine Acedian uniform. The soft-shell armor was a crowning achievement among his people, hardening only at times of great need. This adaptability had proven essential during the Acedian Movement.

  "What is it, Valor?"

  "The Invidian bugs, sir," Valor responded.

  Vorian nodded. "Yes? I was just telling Volup of the success of phase two—"

  "An Invidian bug has been de-shelled, sir. On Terra."

  "What?"

  "Due to the entanglement we used to control them, it’s fair to say the Terrans now have the coordinates of the bugs’ origins, leading them to Acedia."

  Vorian's temper was now at its height. He grabbed one of the human skulls and crushed it between his mech-suited grip. The Terrans had been brought there and experimented on but deemed worthless due to their anatomy; however, thanks to their inventiveness, they would see what it meant to be on Vorian's blacklist.

  "Unfold the gift," Vorian ordered.

  14

  Nathan lay in his bed with one thought on his mind. It was all
true—the time loop on the Syndicate ship and the advanced race of nanoprinted people. All of it was possible, and he was now experiencing it firsthand like some kind of pscyho nightmare unfolding.

  The excitement was hard to contain for the seasoned Marine-turned-criminal. He had gone through many psyche sessions and had experienced people calling him a hack. Even close friends had distanced themselves. He told himself he would remember who’d stuck with him, who believed the truth.

  Nathan’s mood sank, thinking of the ones who’d believed him and been lost because of it—especially Richter. But his brother hadn’t died in vain. Nathan would make sure that whatever threat came next, those enemies would know his brother’s name.

  He sat up, looking at the small sink that was connected to the toilet. He was reminded of his days on a naval ship, specifically the small destroyer ships. But small quarters weren’t the worst of it.

  A knock at the door startled him. He got up, checking the one small porthole in the dark grey door. It was hard to make out a person’s face since the porthole was so high, but what did strike Nathan as odd was the rainbow-colored assortment of hair that peaked just below.

  “Fery?” Nathan asked.

  “Well, come on, sugar. You gonna open the door or make me stand out here all night?”

  Nathan knew where this could go. He’d seen her giving him the “do-me” eyes earlier. If Hastings were to find out he’d hooked up with a teammate, let alone Fery, he could lose his job—not to mention any chance of being with Hastings, the woman he’d always wanted.

  Nathan opened the heavy door. Fery stood there with one arm on the door jamb and one hand on her jutting hip. She was dressed in a one-piece pink dress that fell just above her thighs, sheer white leggings, and shoeless feet. Nathan looked her up and down, trying not to look impressed.

  “Whatcha gonna do, sugar?” Fery said, flipping her bangs over her soft-featured face. Her full lips closed in a pouty way.

  She was pretty, but he couldn’t let it get to him. “Miss Fery. What am I gonna do with what?”

  She shifted her balance onto her other foot as if the heat rising between her legs was too much to bear. “I think you know what I need.”

  Nathan considered it for a moment. Her curves were gorgeous and particularly accentuated in that outfit.

  "What's the matter?" Fery said. "You got a girlfriend?"

  Suddenly, red flashes of light triggered throughout the brig.

  “Shit,” she said.

  “What is that?” Nathan asked.

  Fery touched her pendant earring, this time changing her sexy pink outfit to the black goo that hardened into her Voxel suit. “It’s the central alarm.”

  Fery was jogging lightly as Nathan followed behind her, trying not to take notice of her small waist and bountiful hips moving under the suit. The lights were still flashing, and the shrieking alarm was getting irritating.

  Just as they approached the corner, she slowed down, voxelizing her signature harpoon on one forearm and a submachine Uzi on the other. Nathan balked at how long the clip was.

  “What’s the matter, sugar? Jealous?” she said with a smirk as a helmet folded over her head. “Too fast, too Fery-ous?”

  “Wait, what?” he said, perplexed.

  She peeked around the corner and ran out into the room, guns drawn. Nathan followed to see Fery joining Vix and Beightol. Beightol picked her up like a little kid and tossed her onto his shoulders. She did the leg lock, connecting with her partner, and Nathan wondered how many others had been between them.

  Hastings was just down the south corridor, running with Tang and Switch, all of them suited and booted for action. As they ran the corridor, they stopped to check each room. Nathan watched Tang and Hastings move in tandem like a skilled team, something he would have to teach the others. Switch ignored the tactical maneuver, bolting straight for the computer.

  “Nathan, we have a breach in the northern paddock!” Switch yelled out. He ran to one of the control booths, accessing the central mainframe. Nathan was quick to run up behind him and see the rows of wheat, barley, and corn. “Something happened in the hydroponic sector,” Switch said, zooming the camera closer in on the plants. “These plants were grown with the seed.”

  The corn looked different, as if the stalks were missing only at the top. “Bugs?” Nathan asked.

  Switch brought up another window, cross-analyzing the Spry bug DNA. The results came back negative. “Something’s going on behind that door,” he said, pointing fifty feet away to the botanical sector.

  Nathan looked back at the monitor and studied it carefully. His eye could see something moving on one of the stalks. “Look at that.”

  A few feet away, one of the pale green stalks began to wiggle and the green husk unfolded. Inside, an unripened ear of corn began to break apart into hundreds of tentacles and legs. Where the corn had broken off, a large, gaping hole formed, framed by its husk as if it were lips.

  “Is that a fucking mouth?” Nathan asked, now looking at a shocked Hastings.

  Switch quickly dialed some instructions into the panel. “Gonna turn on the Halon Fire Suppression systems. Maybe it will suffocate them out.”

  Tang shook his head in disgust, stepping back slowly and voxelizing a hand grenade cannon the size of his arm, the barrel nothing short of six inches. He walked to the door, analyzing its contours and mechanics. He then pumped large, hockey-puck-sized devices all along the door in loud thuds.

  Hastings looked at Nathan with a cold expression. “Looks like no more training.”

  Nathan watched the monitor closely. “Listen, if this doesn’t work, I have a plan—”

  BOOM!

  Tang blew the doors off their hinges, crumpling the thick steel like tinfoil. As smoke poured out, Nathan looked for Hastings from where he’d fallen to the floor.

  “Nathan, get up,” Hastings called out, already behind Tang, along with Beightol, Fery, and Switch.

  Nathan shot to his feet and felt cool air on his face. The team locked down their helmets, and he followed suit. He voxelized his standard two RC-P90s on each arm, falling behind the rest. Now isn’t the time to throw my weight around, or what weight I have left, he thought.

  “Hold up,” Tang ordered, taking one step in front of the stalks as if he were analyzing the room, waiting for something to jump out at him. He turned to Hastings and called out, "Scorch those crops!"

  Hastings voxelized two large missile batteries and a cyclone of fire rained down all over the plants. The heat was intense, and Nathan could feel it through his helmet glass. No stalks were left standing, burning what was left of the seed.

  Tang turned around, unfolding his helmet with a cocky grin. “Now, that’s how you lead a team.”

  From within the fire, hundreds of knee-high bugs burst out, spreading into the central control room like cockroaches from a sink. A fat, bulbous one jumped onto Tang’s head from the back, yanking him to the ground.

  Nathan opened rapid fire, along with Hastings, while Beightol and Fery fired energized rails.

  “Fery, Beightol, the railgun is too big. Fery, get off him and hit them with smaller ammo,” Nathan ordered, never taking his aim off the scattering bugs. “Vix! Give me tracers!”

  Vix nodded her head, taking defensive maneuvers. She kick-flipped and round-housed, punching connecting tracers of light around the group. The light formed a natural deterrent for the scattering bugs, allowing a minute for Nathan to think. He didn’t have much time since he knew if one bug got gutsy and tested the tracer wall, the kinetic energy would release.

  “Tang!” Hastings yelled, firing a few feet from Tang’s head, but she couldn't get close enough.

  The bug was now a dirty brown and relentless with its suction, its kernel pattern gyrating in an eerie motion.

  “What’s it doing to his head?” Fery yelled out.

  Nathan processed the situation as fast as he could. The bugs were surrounding the tracer wall, and he knew it was only a mo
ment before they’d test it. The bug that attacked Tang was draining him, and they couldn’t shoot it.

  “Fery, bolt that bug with your harpoon tracked on a cable. Beightol, get ready. Vix, Hastings, Switch, I want weapons firing with large spray,” Nathan ordered.

  Fery steadied, aimed, and fired, and the pronged harpoon burst straight through the bug’s hull. Beightol grabbed the cable, which looked to be no more than the diameter of a piece of yarn in his hands, and yanked the bug off of Tang’s head. The bug hit the tracer wall hard and was thrown with such momentum that it broke through and scurried around a desk.

  Hastings, Nathan, Switch, and Vix fired on the crawling bugs that were making their way toward them. In large, sweeping strokes, Hastings took out hordes of the colony, but the more they shot, the more the bugs poured out from the room.

  Switch took the center, invoking a holographic bubble. Inside the bubble, movement slowed to a crawl as he engaged his focus meter inside. This allowed him to analyze battlefields when necessary. He focused past one of the bug’s spiny legs as it clawed at the floor, making its way toward the gunfire. Having all the time he needed, Switch now recognized the white core that glowed under them. Æther.

  Switch smiled as he reached behind to one of the HUD windows in the bubble and pulled it around. The panel read “Æther > Voxel upload.” With the press of a button, the group watched as the bugs collapsed and fell to the floor. The fat bug was gone.

  Nathan looked to Switch and then wiped the sweat from his brow. “You could have told us about that trick.”

  Switch gave an awkward smile.

  15

  A roundtable of bickering voices echoed throughout Rockheed’s War Room, somewhere Sasha Hastings hadn’t been since they built the facility. Its deep blue paneling and red accents evoked patriotism at its finest. And judging from the number of stars embroidered on each one of the commanding officer’s jackets that were projected in holoform around the table, it was decision time.