Doomsday Minus One

by Andrew Dorn

  There was no stopping it.

  It could, and would, evolve and devolve, transform itself to accomplish its mission. Reprogramming Simon with a new set of instructions was imperative now that its delivery system had been compromised.

  “Emmeline,” Simon whispered, eyes glazed over in shock, his skin turning pale and colorless. “I’m sorry...”

  The end of his sentence was lost to the universe as he collapsed in her arms.

  45 Conflict

  ANNA’S EYES WIDENED in complete surprise. There was an arrow stuck in Declan’s chest. What the hell? Someone shot him! Adrenaline pumping in her veins, senses screaming for her to stay low and get down, she dropped to the floor. Declan’s body was slumped, his chin down to his chest. She could see he still breathed, but she had no idea how badly hurt he was.

  Hold on Declan, I’ll get you out of here.

  Her mind flashed back to the Starwind and the conversation with Major Redding. Declan had given him the coordinates of their location before the communication was cut off. The army must be en route, perhaps even just minutes away.

  There was still hope for Declan.

  And for her.

  There was a loud bang at the door.

  “I know you’re in there.” Roy taunted.

  She made herself as small as possible, ducking behind a piece of shelving which had been ripped free in the crash. It was a flimsy shield, but it was better than nothing. The knocking on the door grew louder. Roy’s fists pounded on the thin plating of the door, denting it inwards with each blow, but the door had been wedged in by both a bent frame and by Declan’s effort to seal it; and it refused to open.

  There was a last blow to the door then silence. A profound and pregnant stillness, broken only by Declan’s labored breathing. Anna trained herself to stay calm. She knew there was no other way inside the hold but she didn’t for an instant believed the attacker had given up. The man was clearly fixated on getting inside, on getting at her.

  Another minute went by.

  Still no sound from the outside.

  She remained rooted to the spot, arms tiring from holding up the piece of metal, nerves like raw wires waiting to catch fire. The tension raging inside her was unlike anything she had ever lived through before. She thought of her dad, probably dead at the moment. He would have wanted her to fight, to never abandon hope.

  It was her duty to carry on. He had instilled inside her a will to live which she could not ignore, could not oppose. She owed it to him, to the man, to the father she had loved so much.

  There was somebody outside that door. Someone bent on hurting her. His reasons were his own, and she didn’t have to know them at the moment. What she needed to do was stop him from getting inside.

  The silence in the hold was absolute. The wind outside must have died down because Anna couldn’t make it out anymore. The tremors which had followed the collapse of the spire had also stopped, producing this pocket of silence inside the cramped space. Declan’s whistling breath lingered on and Anna decided to do something about it. With finesse, she pivoted her make-shift shield in her hands and leaned it against the wall at her side. Pushing with her two arms, she flipped onto her stomach, making sure not to bump into any of the debris scattered about, and moved forward, using her knees to slide her way to the co-pilot.

  She snagged a fat roll of gauze from the spilled contents of the survival kit and in one smooth shift of her body, pulled herself next to him. Her hand slipped on the blood pooling on the floor, and she gaped at it, dismayed. Declan’s pale blue shirt had turned deep brown from all the blood. The thin shaft of the arrow was buried halfway inside his upper chest, underneath his right armpit. She gripped the shaft with the intent of extracting it then froze, uncertain.

  Will I do more damage by pulling it out? Should I leave it in?

  She had no clue, so she wrapped the gauze at the base of the arrow where most of the blood had collected. Declan moaned in pain, an absurdly loud noise in the tomb-like silence of the hold. Spotting a bottle of pills underneath an upturned box of plastic cups, she wiggled sidewise and pulled the container within grasp.

  Painkillers! Yes!

  She twisted the cap off and extracted 4 pills from the bottle. Declan groaned again as she held up his chin.

  He opened his eyes. They were unfocused and glazed over, the look of someone near death’s door.

  She gritted her teeth at the sight and inserted each pill inside his mouth. He grumbled incoherently but seemed to understand it was for his good and swallowed down the medication. Turning her head but keeping a steady hand to his chest, Anna retrieved the bottle of water they had used earlier. There was just enough left for a sip, but it would be enough. Holding Declan’s head up, she whispered in his ear.

  “Declan Penney... open your mouth”

  He obeyed as if hypnotized by her voice and she poured the water down his throat. He gagged a little but kept the water down. She propped his head up using a piece of insulation as a pillow and satisfied he was resting comfortably, moved back to where she had left the make-shift shield.

  The hold’s door cracked open with a resonant clang and silvery light spilled in from outside. Using a piece of bent steel, Roy pried open the door, forcing it from the hinges.

  “You have ruined my future,” Roy hissed, elbowing his way inside the compartment.

  With as much force as she could muster, Anna flung the squat piece of sharp metal at the door. It hit Roy squarely in the face. The man roared in pain, the shout a primal scream of fury and fear. The ragged edge of the metal plate had lodged itself straight in his right eye. He staggered back from the doorway, dazed and in shock.

  Anna pounced.

  She slammed into Roy with so much force that the two tumbled to the ground in a heap of limbs. Roy bellowed with rage, blindly throwing punches in a furious attempt at nailing her. Anna ducked the punches then scurried away, moving fast.

  Roy saw the woman run away from him. He raised his crossbow, already cocked and ready to fire, and pressed the trigger. The arrow zipped away and flew a centimeter above Anna’s head, vanishing away into the cloud of dust. He stumbled forward, determined to follow suit. The pain in his eye was incredible, and he knew he was seriously hurt.

  She will pay for that.

  They destroyed the future!

  His future!

  She was one of the stupid people. One of those poor ignorants who didn’t understand... and never could. He had been forced to deal with their stupidity all his life. There were so many of them, with their assumed superiority, their fake concerns, their hypocrisy. It was amazing how few real people remained. The Stupids were the dominant life form on the planet and because of the way they had tailored Society, they were difficult to eradicate, to extinguish. The great cannon in the sinkhole was supposed to take care of them.

  But they had destroyed it.

  He knew in his gut it was a monstrous mistake, something humankind would regret.

  They had screwed up big time.

  Screwed up the first and last chance they had. Screwed up their opportunity to be better, to be part of a new world.

  And as long as he lived, he vowed to make them pay for their actions.

  46 Beast's Breast

  EMMELINE SAW THE light in Simon’s eyes dim with each passing second until it faded out completely. She was holding on to him but his body felt inert and lifeless. In the unnatural illumination of the Seeder, Simon’s skin was the color of ash. She carefully brushed the side of his face, trying to bring him back from wherever he was.

  “Simon, can you hear me?”

  Even through his clothes she could feel his body heat fade away, like a stove’s hotplate turning cold. Putting a finger on his carotid artery, she checked for a pulse. There was a beat. It was slow, weak, the pulse of someone close to death’s door. There was nothing she could do but cuddle him as he lay unconscious.

  “You can’t leave now Simon. You have too much to live for,” she w
hispered in his ear. “You still have to buy me that burger, remember? And we have barely begun our relationship.” She felt his body tense, a slight jolt along his spine. “We’ll fly away together. To wherever you want to go. To Alaska, Mexico or Hawaii. You get to choose. It’s not as if we didn’t merit a few days off, no?” Again his body twitched, as if he was undergoing electroshock therapy.

  “You can do it Simon. Come back to us. Come back to me.”

  His eyes snapped open. He stared ahead, eyes empty and vacant. Emmeline snapped her fingers about an inch away from his face, the sound loud in the quiet chamber. “Simon! Can you hear me?”

  The blank stare remained but there was an almost imperceptible movement of the head. She snapped her fingers again. This time the eyes swiveled in her direction.

  “Yes! Simon, you can do it. Come on! Wake up!”

  All at once, the unblinking stare of the man in front of her sent a chill down her spine.

  Something was wrong.

  The eyes were staring at her but they weren’t seeing her. There was no recognition, no warmth in those eyes.

  They were empty.

  Taken aback, Emmeline grabbed Simon by the shoulders, wishing she just could shake some sense back into him.

  “Come on, dammit! Wake up.”

  Without warning, he straightened up, his features those of a rigid mask. He took a step forward then another. The jerkiness of his stride resembled that of someone learning how to walk.

  “Simon,” Emmeline pleaded, her voice breaking. “Snap out of it!”

  He turned to her but the movement was more an unconscious response than a deliberate and thoughtful action. The pale gray eyes were like glass in the dim light, their natural vivacity replaced with vacuity. Emmeline backed up a few steps, observing the way he moved. He was behaving like somebody under hypnosis.

  He lumbered out of the tight passageway without a glance in her direction, deaf to her pleas. He was active but absent, present in body only, his intellect not responding.

  He was under its control.

  The Seeder had gained control of his mind. But how? They must have been contaminated. Being in such close contact to the sludge, for prolonged periods, had probably allowed the Seeder’s microscopic soldiers to infiltrate their bodies.

  The headaches.

  It all made sense to her now. Simon’s headaches were his body’s way of fighting off the reprogramming underway within him. Emmeline realized he was aware something was wrong and had tried to warn her.

  “I’m sorry.”

  Those had been his last words.

  She too was sorry. Sorry for not knowing what to do, of being unable to stop it from happening.

  Frozen in place, unsure about what to do, she watched Simon walk away, deeper inside the Seeder.

  Should I follow him down into the unknown?

  Emmeline stood at the door, one foot inside the alien world. Would she be able to find her way out if she lost sight of him?

  Probably not.

  Eyes closed, fists balled up into tight balls, she debated on what she should do. Should she let him go, find another way out?

  It was another one of those impossible decisions, one she wished she could simply avoid, waving it goodbye as it passed harmlessly out of reach.

  Her fists unclenched.

  She took a deep breath. The air had a dull, inanimate quality to it as if it had been sealed up for too long. She glanced backwards at the clogged tunnel. It was plugged to the hilt by tons of rock.

  Was there another way out?

  She turned her head and saw Simon disappear inside the inner sanctum of the Seeder.

  He was inside the beast’s breast.

  She took a step forward.

  A curtain of transparent goo dropped from the low ceiling of the chamber. At once, it solidified, hardening into a partition across the entire width of the passageway. Emmeline stared at it with incomprehension. The Seeder had taken the decision out of her hands. She was now locked out from wherever Simon had gone. She approached the fresh wall and gingerly poked it with her index. The goo was as stiff as rubber but translucent, allowing light to pass through. The inner core of the Seeder was right there, at arm’s length, but she had been denied the right to go in, to explore it, to discover its secrets.

  Disconcerted, she collapsed to the ground.

  So... unfair.

  She sat on the ground, next to the partition. The emotions she had fought to contain rushed forth in one sudden swift movement. She punched the wall with one massive strike, her hand vanishing inside the rubbery goo. The partition flexed back, and she was pushed away with so much force, she found herself outside the chamber.

  Getting up to her feet, she watched the partition turn opaque, blocking her view inside. The Seeder was sealing itself up. The cavern’s low light dimmed even more and she was forced to wait until her eyes adapted to the darkness. Looking around, she realized the Seeder was virtually indistinguishable, its exterior hull swallowing whatever light remained. It was now locked tight, an impregnable vessel.

  She had no choice but to retreat and wait for Simon’s return.

  Godspeed, Simon.

  47 Thin Layer

  THE WIND LIFTED thick clouds of dust around the scattered remains of the Starwind. Anna ran blindly, the adrenaline keeping her from collapsing to shock and fatigue. The surrounding landscape had no distinguishable features, saved for the deep crust of hardened goo, which covered everything for as far as the eye could see. Panting from exertion, she stopped running and looked back to see if the man was still in pursuit.

  There was nothing but the dust, and the low gray clouds drifting in the rust-colored sky.

  She had no doubt whatsoever he was still hunting her. That kind of man never gave up. Unless he was incapacitated. And that’s what she needed to do: find a way to stop him once and for all. She had to do it for herself, and for Declan, who was still in the crew compartment, with an arrow stuck in his chest.

  But how?

  She was in a wasteland, hemmed in by the wreckage of both the airship and the big gun.

  There might be something I can use, somewhere in this scrap heap.

  Bending low to keep herself from being spotted, she moved closer to the largest section of the ruin. The huge spire had broken up into half a dozen pieces, some larger than others. There was a fragment, nearby, with a sizeable gash in its side. A gash wide enough for a human. Anna stared at it for a long moment, then made her way forward. Peeking inside the tear, she could see right through to the other end.

  So it was a hollow tube... just like a cannon.

  The inside was smooth, with a polished texture which reminded her of copper tubing. The silky interior meant it had been designed for easy travel, like the one required by an artillery shell. She snickered at the broken piece of strange tech.

  You never foresaw that us, miserable humans, could do this, right?

  There was a noise, like a footstep. It was close by, about 10 meters away. She hunkered down and slipped deeper inside the broken fragment of the spire. The man was making his way toward her, his head wrapped up in a bloody rag.

  She needed something to defend herself.

  There was a broken piece of what looked like a metal strut, about the length of a baseball bat and shaped like a t-bar, wedged inside the tube.

  A piece of the Starwind.

  The strut was something she could take advantage of. It was about the only object lying around that actually reflected light, in marked contrast to the dull gray, non-reflective material of the spire; and of the surrounding landscape. With a sharp tug, she pulled out the piece of metal and hefted it to see how well balanced it was. It had a solid feel, and even though it wasn’t as symmetrical as a bat, she felt it would be good enough.

  The sun, low on the horizon, cast long shadows over the debris field, changing the setting into a grotesque landscape of twisted and misshapen shapes. The dust settled to the surface as day ceded to night; th
e wind dying down at last. Anna glanced at the sky.

  It was a miracle: for the first time in days, there would be a clear cloudless night. And the good news didn’t stop there. There was a splendid crescent moon visible in the dark azure sky.

  At least the night won’t be as bleak as the landscape.

  Minutes went by while Anna stood motionless, listening with attention as night settled into place and a cloak of cold air fell on her shoulders. She shivered uncontrollably, wrapping her arms against her body in a fruitless attempt at staying warm.

  Bending low, she made her way around the ruin and found a spot amid the debris cluttering the ground. From her position she scanned the remains of the airship. Most of the wreckage was scattered across the expanse, however, there was a glint off to the right, about 10 meters away. It was half-concealed by a broad section of the twisted ribcage-like structural frame of the craft, but she recognized it anyway.

  The cockpit.

  Oh my God, Captain Ballard! Anna thought with a surge of hope.

  She sprang up from her hiding place, glancing left and right for any signs of the assailant.

  Where is he?

  Then she heard it. A faint scratching noise, coming from the cockpit, just a few steps away. Anna slipped out from the shadows and moved toward the source of the noise. The cockpit was badly damaged: the whole front end had been sheared off, and there was a vast hole in the roof. Only one of the pilot’s seats, Captain Ballard’s, had remained bolted in place.

  In the muted lunar light, Anna noticed a shape still belted into it. The face was obscured, away from her, a black silhouette against the darkened sky. She wiggled her way inside the wreck, her focus squarely on who sat in that seat. As she strove her way to the cockpit, she sensed movement behind her. She ducked and put her right arm up. There was a quick snap and an electrical shock of pain exploded up her arm straight to her brain. She fell backwards, confused by the searing pain, and tripped over the belt dangling from the pilot’s seat. She hit the ground hard, doubling over in agony. A tall and menacing shape stepped out of the shadows and loomed over her, eyes blazing with manic intensity.