Into Darkness

by Peter Fugazzotto

Suddenly she was gone: pulled around the corner and towards Ragnar’s hold.

  Adams, fighting the pain and bile that filled his mouth, pushed himself to standing and staggered after her. A quick glance over his shoulder showed Finn and Patch battling the spiders. Finn’s gun flashed and flesh and gore painted the wall. Patch swung her arms in wide arcs.

  More than a dozen spiders filled the hall now.

  Adams charged forward avoiding the scything limbs of the spiders.

  He finally rounded the corner, prepared to race to Penelope, tear those spiders limb from limb, stab the naked bodies that hung in those frames, anything to save his beloved.

  But when he rounded the corner, a lone spider huddled on the floor. Dark strands of hair wetly clung to her face. Beneath her brows, bloodshot eyes narrowed. She tried to form words but that intention gave way to a bone-chilling scream and before Adams could react she sprang forward, her metal legs opened like a trap. She slammed into him and her limbs kicked him to the floor.

  She smelled like rotten meat. He struggled to escape, his fists battering at her face and chest, but her legs were blindingly fast and before he knew it, she had pinned him down, the sharp metal ends of her limbs piercing through palm and thigh. She lowered herself on him rubbing her body against him. He screamed.

  “Evolve,” she moaned. “Rom will end all suffering.”

  She lifted one leg and began sawing where his arm met his shoulder.

  The pain almost blinded him. He wished it would. He wished he could pass out. Then he heard her. Somewhere beyond his own screams and her raspy breath he heard metal scraping against the floor: Penelope being dragged even further away from him.

  He tried to tear his hands free, but he was stuck. The bladed limb paused in its sawing and she held it above his throat. Her eyes darted left and right. “He won’t know. I’ll say you somehow escaped and tried to kill me. It’ll be better this way. Rom will never know.”

  She slowly lowered the blade towards his throat, the cold metal touching his skin.

  Thirty-Seven

  GOMEZ RAN AFTER Marley through the hallways. Even though she carried Orlov, Marley kept an unrelenting pace and Gomez struggled to keep up.

  His breath rose high in his throat and his mouth was dry. The halls flickered between a greenish glow and absolute darkness. He welcomed the moments when the hall went black, because it meant he did not have to see Orlov strapped to Marley’s back. Orlov was shrouded in a heavy gray blanket torn from the bed. Only her blood-pale face was revealed in the opening of the fabric.

  Gomez should have put a bullet through her head. What the spiders had done was inhuman. They had butchered her. They were going to turn her into one of them. How much blood had she lost? He could only imagine the shock and horror that would engulf her when she woke from the heavy sedatives.

  Behind her lids, her eyes darted back and forth. He should end it for her. She deserved more than what the future held for her. Her life as she knew it was over. She was done as a mercenary. Even with robotic limbs, she would never be whole again. She could never run with Gomez’s crew again.

  “I’ve picked up Finn and Patch on my map,” said Marley. “Another minute or so and we’ll be reunited.”

  “Where are they?”

  “They were moving, but now they’ve stopped.”

  “In Ragnar’s room?” asked Gomez.

  “Outside of it, I think. They’re at an intersection, holding there.”

  “We need to get to them.”

  Gomez redoubled his pace.

  Orlov opened her eyes. She blinked. She turned her head to the ceiling, then the length of the hall before focusing on Gomez.

  “What happened? Where are we?”

  “You go back to sleep, soldier,” said Gomez. “We’ve got everything dialed in.”

  Her eyes fluttered and closed.

  “She needs more sedatives,” Gomez called to Marley. But she did not acknowledge him. She only kept running.

  “Pablo,” said Orlov. “It all went wrong, didn’t it?”

  “You don’t worry about nothing, you crazy Russian. We’ll take care of you. We’ll get you off this rock.”

  “They took me. The Spiders.” Her lower lip trembled as the words escaped her lips. “I had this dream. A machine. They were laughing. Others were crying. That machine. It’s evil.”

  Gomez sprinted. Orlov made as if to reach out at him. Terror suddenly constricted her face.

  “I can’t move. I’m trapped. Help me, Gomez.”

  He pulled a sedative patch from one of his pockets and leaping forward slapped it onto her neck.

  “Promise you’ll get me out here,” she said.

  Before Gomez could answer, she passed out.

  And gunfire erupted from ahead.

  Thirty-Eight

  MARLEY WOKE TO a single gunshot.

  The lights flickered. She smelled the tang of blood and the burn of metal. She lay belly down, her cheek pressed against the cold floor. She stared at a wall. Pieces of flesh and hair stuck against a splatter of blood.

  The last thing she remembered was the sudden gunshots, the sense of dread that Adams and the others had been ambushed, and she and Gomez racing down the hall. Marley had rounded a corner, weapons drawn, and found Finn and Patch in a pitched battle with a swarm of spiders. Too many spiders. Adams and Penelope were nowhere to be seen. A wave of spiders had burst from the intersection. The things swarmed on Patch, latched on her like leeches, trying to rip the flesh out of the exoskeleton. Marley had laid down fire, not suppressive, but targeted fire that picked off half a dozen of the spiders that had not swarmed around her companions.

  She had closed to a few strides when the world blacked out.

  Now she woke, slowly, a searing heat cutting from her shoulders to the base of her skull.

  Another shot cut through the air. Then another.

  “Stop! They’re helpless!” screamed Patch. “You can’t do that.”

  “The hell I can’t!” growled Gomez. Another shot.

  “Pull their control cables! Then they won’t be able to control their skeletons. At the base of their skull is the interface. Unplug them. You can’t just shoot them.”

  Gomez laughed.

  Marley’s limbs quivered.

  “The pulse is wearing off!” said Finn. “They’re starting to move.”

  “Blast them again!” shouted Gomez.

  Marley slid her hands underneath her body and lifted her head. Gomez walked down the line of fallen spiders, his pistol jolting as he fired shot after shot.

  “The EMP’s destroyed. Burned its own core.”

  “Then we finish this with bullets.” Gomez fired into the raised head of a dark-skinned woman. She did not even plead. Blood painted the wall.

  “Bastards!” screamed Patch. Her exoskeleton powered up again, the servos whining as she bent her arms beneath her. “Finish me off while you’re at it! I can’t be a party to this murder. And that is what this is. Murder!”

  “Seriously?” said Gomez. “This ain’t murder. It’s payback! What they did to Orlov. What they did to Hendo. They ambushed us. Payback! Kill all the fucking machines!”

  “Is that how you see us?”

  The gunfire continued, a sudden frantic burst, and then silence.

  Marley pulled herself to her hands and knees. She pressed against the wall, unable to avoid the spatters of blood, and rose to standing. Orlov moaned from the straps on Marley’s back. She had forgotten about her.

  The spiders littered the floor. Most of them had been shot in the head, roughly between the eyes, though a few shots had been delivered straight into their mouths. They were dead. Every last one of them. Even with the damage caused by the guns, these were humans, naked, vulnerable, slaughtered.

  “I am done with this cold-blooded murder,” said Patch, her voice low and steady. “Whatever it is you are doing here, it is not about justice or order. You could have done something different. You didn’t have to kill th
em all. Not like that.”

  “You’re either with us or you’re against us,” said Gomez. He leveled his gun at Patch.

  “He’s right,” said Marley. She stumbled along the wall. “They came at us. They killed Hendo. And what they did to Orlov.”

  “Is she there? On your back?” asked Finn.

  “Part of her,” said Gomez through bared lips.

  “Is she alright?”

  “They were prepping her for modification,” said Marley.

  “They fucking butchered her!” Before Marley could react, Gomez tore Orlov off her back and flung her to the floor. She rolled out of the blanket, arms and legs chopped off. “This is what they did to her! Didn’t even waste a moment!” Orlov’s head lolled to one side, lips quivering, lost words trickling from her sedated mind. He turned his gun to her and shoved it against her forehead. “Justice! Order!” His voice cracked and when he spoke again, only a whisper seeped out. “She deserves our mercy. And yet, I can’t.” He fell to his knees and wrapped her again in the blanket. “We need to get her out of here. She never deserved this. Not sweet Orlov.”

  At that moment, Adams crawled back from around the corner. Blood covered him. He clutched the end of one of the spider’s legs in his fist. “They tried to take her. Drag her away from me. They won’t be taking anything anymore.”

  “I can’t be a part of this,” said Patch.

  “You can’t go!” shouted Adams. “Not now!”

  Patch retreated, her metallic arms crossing in front of her. “I’m not helpless anymore. It won’t be that easy.”

  “He asked for you,” said Adams. “He said he’s been waiting for you.”

  “What are you talking about? Who’s been waiting for me?”

  “Ragnar,” said Adams. “He’s at the end of the hall and he said he’s been waiting for you, Patch. He needs your help.”

  Thirty-Nine

  ADAMS STRUGGLED. HE dragged the box through the bodies. He was a captain, a pilot, not a soldier. The edge of the metal housing shrieked against the floor, its heavy edge smearing and thinning the pools of blood. With each step, Penelope grew heavier.

  Adams tripped over one of the spider legs and the box dropped against the floor with a loud cracking noise. He stared at the box. The metal was furrowed by the spider’s talons. In several places, they had punctured the housing and exposed recessed wires and circuits to the stale air of the colony.

  He lifted the box, but his hands were slick with blood and it slipped out again and slammed on the floor.

  “Sorry,” he whispered, pressing his lips near the cold metal.

  Worse than the gashes in the box, the spiders had torn the interface cables from her. Adams could no longer communicate with Penelope. Given time, he could repair the cables but he wondered how much time he had left before the virus completely consumed his beloved.

  “Let me help you.” Finn squatted beside Adams and lifted Penelope by the straps and then swung her over his shoulders and onto his back.

  “I’ll carry her,” said Adams.

  “You’ve carried her weight for far too long. Let me help you.”

  Adams clenched his teeth. He wanted Penelope on his shoulders. He wanted to be the one to bring her to Ragnar.

  “Don’t worry,” said Finn. “Walk right beside me. I’m not going anywhere without you. Trust me.”

  Adams sighed and nodded. “I’m sorry. I…”

  “No need to explain yourself, Cap. Let’s get some help for the old girl.”

  Adams kept close to the technician. He pressed his bloody palm against the cold metal box in the hope that he would feel some sign from her that she still lived.

  Marley, Gomez, and Patch crowded before Ragnar’s doorway.

  Marley pointed to an air vent. “That’s how the spiders got here ahead of you.”

  “You think more are coming?” asked Finn.

  “Let’s get through this door. Then we won’t have to worry about it,” said Gomez.

  Adams watched Marley turn the handle and push. She leaned into it with her shoulder. “You have an access code?” asked Marley. She turned to Adams. “Was the door open before? Did you see him?”

  Adams shook his head. He pointed at the door. “He stood right here.” He remembered the ghostly figure, the hand stretching out, chains hanging from his limbs.

  Suddenly a voice thundered in the hall. The same deafening voice Adams had heard earlier. “Death c-comes!”

  Gomez cursed and smashed the door with the butt of his rifle. “Melodramatic fucking machines! Why can’t the program open the door without all this drama?”

  “Who dares… to c-cross the threshold… of R-Ragnar?”

  “Talk to him.” Adams pushed Patch into the sight of the camera above the door.

  “Ragnar, it’s me, Patch.”

  Adams watched as a red light moved behind the camera lens. “I could k-kill you all. Right here and now.”

  Somewhere behind the walls, a motor hummed and warm air pulsed out of the vent.

  “Fucker’s gonna gas us,” mumbled Gomez.

  Adams reached out to Penelope. He wanted to be close to her if this was the end.

  “Patience,” warned Marley.

  “We’re not the threat, Ragnar,” said Patch. “These outsiders have been sent by Huang Di Prime. They are here to bring the colony back online. To deal with Rom. To establish order.”

  Static burst from the hidden speakers, so loudly that Adams winced. “You d-dare… speak the name… of the usurper!”

  “We should blast the door,” said Gomez leveling his gun. “Finish off this stutterer.”

  “And if more spiders come, we lose a place of safety. Where do we run?” asked Marley.

  “We’ll blast them too.”

  “The EMP is dead. Its circuits are fried,” said Finn shaking the device. “Better we get out of the halls.”

  “Let us in, Ragnar,” said Patch. “Enough of these games! You know me.”

  “I… knew you-you,” said Ragnar. His voice cracked with static. “But Patch…Patch never wore armor. A healer.” The static overwhelmed his words.

  “What the fuck is wrong with the AI? Let us in!” Gomez kicked the door. “We should blast the panel.”

  “Rom did more than simply isolate Ragnar,” said Marley.

  “Another virus?” asked Adams. His stomach balled up. “Ragnar too? But he’s going to save Penelope. He can repair her. He can’t be infected. It’s impossible.” He clenched his fists. Everything was getting worse.

  “Ragnar trusted Rom,” said Patch. “The sneak had access.”

  “Prime never would have fully trusted Ragnar,” said Marley. “I know how the AIs think. They know the potential power they each hold. Prime always keeps a back door open. Look what he did to Penelope. Rom must have had a program he could insert in case a problem with Ragnar ever arose. Looks like he took it on his own initiative to begin that process of dismantling Ragnar.”

  “Great. Then we’re screwed,” said Gomez. “Caught in the middle of some AI war on a rock in the middle of nowhere. Game’s over. We need to retreat. Get back to the loading bay. Secure enough food and water and we can hold off until Prime sends in another crew. Then we get off this cursed planet. Bring back some real firepower. Wipe out all the spiders. Wipe out the machines. Wipe out the miners. Everything on this rock. Clean slate.”

  Patch placed her robotic hands on the door. “Open up, Ragnar. I can help. You know that. Open up. These people can rid us of Rom, bring you back to your rightful place.”

  Adams felt a hum through the metal housing that held Penelope. Was she waking again? She would be wrapped in her own disintegrating world. How quickly would madness descend on her?

  Adams touched the gun. A few shots through the holes in the housing would end things for her. Save one shot for himself. Maybe a place beyond knowing existed where he and Penelope could return to each other.

  The others were arguing in front of the door. It would be
over before they even knew what happened.

  He pulled the gun from the holster and leveled it at the box on Finn’s back. Killing her was the only merciful thing to do.

  He slipped his finger around the trigger.

  He steadied the pistol.

  Then Ragnar’s door slid open.

  Forty

  PATCH WISHED THEY never found her. She wished she had not been wandering through the hall looking for food. She wished she would had just run when she first saw the mercenaries. She could have hidden. They would have gone their own way. The murderers.

  But maybe Ragnar could stop them. Maybe he could bring order back from the chaos.

  She loitered behind Marley and Gomez. Marley nodded and Gomez slipped into the room, clearing an angle, and Marley folded in after him. Patch lumbered in next, and as much as she would have liked to glide in as smoothly as they did, she could not. She had not been built for stealth.

  But she did not care. As long as she lived another day, she would have hope, hope that she could find some way to reverse the planetary cancer that slowly ate her bones.

  She thudded into the room.

  What she saw was worse than she expected.

  Billowing white smoke crowned the ceiling and the air crackled with the sparks from exposed wires. Two long rows scarred the floor where a dozen servers had been ripped out. At the far end of the room, the dismantled servers had been stacked to create a dais; on that a servitor, one of the expendable skeletal robots, sprawled on a throne of welded scrap metal. On his head, a crown of human bones tilted.

  “My d-dear Dr. Plain, we meet… we meet… we meet again,” said the servitor.

  “Ragnar? Is that you?” Her exoskeleton whined as she stepped closer.

  “Who else would s-sit upon the throne of TS 34?! Who else but…but Ragnar?” A red light traversed behind the glassine face shield.

  The door behind Patch hissed shut. She resisted the temptation to turn.

  “We came all this way for this madness?” said Gomez. “Should have gone straight to Rom. Or retreated to the loading dock.”