“Are you seeing what I’m seeing?” Hudson asked.
“Sure do,” Jeannie Lee said. “I got my big ass gun at the ready.” When Hudson looked behind him, she was in stealth stance, her eyes shifting back and forth with her back to him. She was waiting for something to come out and jump them.
“You think there are any survivors on this jalopy?” He asked.
“By the looks of this and all the blood droplets that just waltzed by my helmet, I’m thinking no,” she said.
Blood droplets. Hudson hadn’t seen blood floating along with the water.
They fell in silence as he took them down one hallway to the next and then down a flight of stairs. They walked past the galley which had more cutlery and freeze-dried food floating in the air and more blood and water droplets interspersed. No sign of a human being, though, or what could have actually happened here. They walked down another flight of stairs and Hudson spotted a door down the hall.
“That’ll be where the reactor is,” he said.
“Bishop, come in. We’ve gone down to the reactor. Have you found anybody yet?” Hudson said. They were met with crackling static.
“Newell, can you hear me?” Hudson asked.
“Loud and clear, Hudson,” Newell said.
“Looks like we’ve lost contact with Bishop and Marcus,” Hudson said.
“I’m seeing their heat signature on the other side of the station,” he said. “Oh, shit. They just blinked out?”
“What does blinked out mean?” Jeannie Lee’s voice came out tense and angry.
“They were walking down a hallway a moment ago. They entered a room and blinked out. No heat signature. No signal.” Newell reported.
No one said anything for a moment. Hudson glanced at Jeannie Lee, whose eyes widened and her lips tensed.
“That doesn’t sound good,” Hudson said.
“Could mean nothing. Could mean some sort of surge blocked the equipment or maybe the room. It doesn’t mean that they’re lost,” Newell said, but Hudson didn’t really believe him. He heard the shake in the chief navigator’s voice.
“I want to get this reactor started and then we can go looking for them,” Hudson said to Jeannie Lee and nodded. She stepped in front of him with the big ass gun at the ready. Finger on the trigger, she opened up the door and swung the big ass gun back and forth, ready to take on anyone who was inside.
Nobody jumped out at them. The reactor was undamaged from what Hudson could see, which was a relief. He hoped the sequence that this reactor used was unchanged from its factory settings.
He clomped over to the console to their right and started punching the sequence to get the thing back online. He finished up the necessary steps and the chamber lit up, blue and red lights pulsing. Hudson smiled with pride. That was optimistic.
A swooshing sound came through the chamber and a powerful wind pushed them both up against the wall. Gravity began to build up and within a minute all the floating flotsam crashed to the ground.
“It’ll take another couple of minutes for the gravity to stabilize so watch your head,” Hudson said and Lee nodded.
“I’m not seeing any reason why the generator would be down,” Hudson said, perplexed.
“Any signs of battle near the reactor?” Captain Rogers’ voice came in through the headset.
“No, sir. It looks like somebody had just turned it off,” Hudson said.
“That’s surprising. Go find Bishop and Marcus, then. If we don’t find any bodies on the way, get the hell out and pretend we were never here,” Captain Rogers’ voice boomed through all of their headsets. The worry in the Captain’s voice unnerved him.
“Yes, sir,” Hudson said and motioned for Jeannie Lee to head for the door. Jeannie Lee’s big ass gun went through the door first and they started back the way they came. Hudson wished they could just withdraw. Get back on the old boat and go on their merry way.
“Where are all the bodies?” Jeannie Lee asked as they crept back up towards the bridge.
“Maybe the captain’s log will have some information for us,” Hudson said, trying to keep the sarcasm out of his voice.
“The bridge then?” Jeannie Lee asked.
“Yes. I’m assuming that’s where Bishop was headed when he and Marcus disappeared. That’s at least what I would do,” he said. Jeannie Lee nodded and stayed silent. At least, he’d managed to keep his frustration in check.
Hudson worked on the doors to the bridge and managed to hotwire them open. The signs of a massive battle were evident up and down the corridors that led to the bridge. Blood spatters and burn blasts from proton guns dotted the walls. Some sort of acid had eaten the floor in places and sparks flew from the open wiring. There was no evident winner and no victims to speak of. The scene depressed him. He hated inconclusive results. It muddied everything up.
The gravity had fully come back several minutes ago but he had instructed Lee to keep her gear on. The Russians had been known to spike the air filtration systems with poison gas to kill whoever they hadn’t picked off with the proton weapons. It was just like them to play dirty tricks, victimizing their enemies to the very end.
The doors to the bridge ground open. Jeannie Lee stepped inside first and did a full sweep before motioning for Hudson to enter. He’d been expecting bodies but found the bridge empty and clean. The battle hadn’t made it past the doors. Someone had to have turned the reactor off from here and sent the SOS signal out into space. He was more scared then intrigued and wished for a plain old gunfight. That was obviously not happening, he thought and went in search of the captain’s log for some answers.
He checked out the center console, where captains typically kept them. He found the notebook underneath the main portion of the console and flipped through to the back.
Unfortunately, the entries were measurements on the progress of the terraforming station. No other useful information whatsoever. The last entry was a malfunction on one of the pieces of the terraforming equipment and the back and forth between the main engineer and the Corporation. How disappointing.
“Captain Rogers?” Hudson asked.
“What did you find, Hudson?” Captain Rogers asked.
“I have the Captain’s log but there’s no mention of any attacks. Just notes on the terraforming operation.” Hudson said.
“I’m not seeing bodies. Just damage,” Jeannie Lee said.
“They were taken by surprise,” Captain Rogers said. “The battle had to be fast. They must have taken out the captain first and then went after the crew. Hence, no log of it. Any sign of survivors?”
“We’ve seen a lot of blood but no human material,” Hudson said.
“Find Marcus and Bishop and get back to the shuttle. I’m calling this in. This kind of coordinated attack reeks of military and not mercenary. Any idea of the kind of weapons that made those blast marks?”
“That’s the thing, Captain. I’ve never seen anything like the damage all over the walls. It’s not heat based. Sir, do you know of any weapon that doesn’t use heat?”
“Nothing comes to mind, Hudson.”
“The ammunition causes a corrosive effect like damage acid would do. The holes in the metal flooring and ceiling have rough edges with staining around the edges. Nothing a laser or proton gun would make. No flame throwers either.” Hudson said.
That was bothering him the most. The pattern of damage. It had taken him some time to pinpoint the cause of his worry. He was a veteran of the first intergalactic war and he’d been through gnarly battles.
Hudson could distinguish between the burns of lasers, proton guns, the hydrogen stream super weapons that the Mars Federation had come up with. In fact, all of the federations had their own weaponry and he could recognize most of them. But these marks? He’d never seen anything like them. A sliver of cold sweat ran down his back as he glanced over to Jeannie Lee. The woman was not saying much but he could tell by the look on her face that she was on alert. She felt the fight coming.
“Alright. Sir, we’re leaving the bridge and going to look for Marcus and Bishop. Doesn’t look like they ever made it here because I had to hotwire the doors open to come inside.” Hudson said as they backed out of the bridge and headed right. The battle had intensified in this part of the station.
They stepped over the holes that encompassed all the floors between them and the hull. This ship was not salvageable.
An otherworldly hissing sound filled the hallway and crescendoed into an ear-piercing wail. Although he still had his helmet on, Hudson’s hands tried to cover his ears in a reflexive move and he leaned flat against the wall. Lee followed him and by the look on her face, she’d heard it too.
“Heard anything like that before?” He whispered, fighting down his fear.
“Never thought I’d encounter a bat in space.” Jeannie Lee retorted. She white-knuckled her gun. The look of surprise on her face told Hudson all he needed to know.
“Why are y’all whispering?” Newell’s voice boomed in their ears.
“Did you hear the unearthly shriek?” Hudson said, startled by the question.
“A shriek? Like a hurt survivor?” Newell asked. Hudson shook his head, irritated by the stupidity of the question.
“More like a banshee out of hell,” Jeannie Lee kept the zingers coming. She had a way with words in stressful situations.
“So you didn’t hear it?” Hudson prodded, his irritation turning to worry.
“No,” Newell admitted.
“Whatever made that sound is on the ship but far away enough from you that you couldn’t hear it.” A click sounded from behind Hudson and he looked to see Jeannie Lee now holding two big ass guns.
“I like being on the safe side,” she said deadpan. Hudson was happy to have her watching his back. They inched along the corridor as the emergency light flashed often enough to give Hudson a sense of déjà vu. How many times had he crawled down these kinds of hallways, wet and damp with oil, blood dripping off of him, as he waited to be zapped or bombed out into space? He could find another type of job. But then who would have an old soldier like him?
“You scared, Jeannie?” He asked, hoping to keep his frightened tone conversational.
“Hudson, what kind of nonsense you asking me? I can shoot anything that comes my way. I have the body count to prove that,” she said with confidence and Hudson moved near her. He quickened his step as they came to a set of double doors, a pinkish light crawling across the metal grated floor from underneath them. No shame in keeping close to a gunner.
“You seeing this?” His dismay was evident.
“Yeah. You got something going on in your head?” Jeannie Lee asked. Hudson could hear the irritation in her voice. Now that she was out of the closed-off passage, she didn’t seem to be afraid of anything.
“Newell, is this where you lost Marcus’ and Bishop’s signals?” Hudson asked him, worry creeping back in.
“You’re standing exactly where they were when they disappeared,” Newell said. The potential for Jeannie Lee’s ridicule was the only thing that kept him rooted in place. He was not about to shame himself. He swallowed down his terror and put his stoic face back on again.
“We’re in front of a set of double doors with a hot pink light showing underneath the doors. Here goes nothing,” Hudson said and punched the open door mechanism. The doors stayed closed. Instead of relief, his anxiety grew worse. The guilt over Sinclair had dismantled his courage.
“Maybe we should try knocking,” Jeannie Lee said. Frustrated, Hudson obliged her and kicked the door several times.
Nothing happened.
He was about to start messing with the wiring when he had an idea. He tapped SOS out with his foot. The sound of gears grinding told him his suspicions were correct. The pink light blinded them both as the doors swung open.
The pink light was coming from a makeshift reactor standing in the middle of the room. Five ragged, pale and gaunt men stood around it as Marcus sat cross-legged with Bishop’s bleeding head in his lap. He held a dirty cloth against the gash on his forehead to stop the flow. Hudson hesitated.
“What happened to Bishop?” Jeannie Lee asked before Hudson could open his mouth. The blinding pink light was making it impossible for Hudson to focus his eyes. He kept on blinking and trying to get the stars out of his eyes.
“One of these gentlemen thought that we were coming to kill them and knocked him out real good,” Marcus said.
“What happened to your equipment? We lost communications.”
“They were tracking us through our communications. We jammed it. This room is one big Faraday cage. No information comes in or goes out,” the oldest man standing said.
“Who are you?” Hudson demanded. He pulled back on his aggression knowing full well it wasn’t the best way to get answers.
“I was the head engineer here. I created this room for us and sent out the SOS message,” he said. “My name is Boyd. This here’s Sloan and Micah.” He pointed to the two men nearest him. “That one over there is Thomas.” He pointed to the man furthest away from them, slumped over in pain.
“Are these the only people who survived?” Hudson asked.
“That’s it. Out of thirty people on the station, we’re all that’s left.” Sloan answered. The man’s eyes were so pale blue. They appeared white and made the man look like a living zombie. Hudson found it hard to look away.
“What happened here? I see a devastated space station and nothing else.”
“Believe us,” the old scientist said.
“Why wouldn’t we believe you? We heard your SOS and came to liberate you. The least you could do is bring us into your confidence. Was it the Russians?” Hudson asked, his previous fright turning into fury. He’d sacrificed so much for this?
“Aliens. They were aliens. Never seen anything like them before. They were eight feet tall and bore a striking resemblance to ice sculptures.”
“Ice sculptures?” Hudson blurted out in surprise.
“Mirrored armor perhaps? A more sophisticated armor made out of mirrored molecules is my thought.” Boyd explained. “We never saw them coming although they made this high pitched wail sound right before they were about to strike. The surprise attack and their weapon obliterated us. The weapon melts people. That’s why you haven’t seen any bodies scattered around.”
“Anyone who got bloodied was shot by accident in friendly crossfire but anyone who was hit by their weapon just melted and disappeared into nothingness,” Sloan said with awe in his voice. “Never seen anything like it. Liquid light came out of nowhere and melted our friends,” Sloan said, his voice shaking.
“I’d love to get my hands on something like that,” Lee said, and Marcus looked up at her and grinned.
That’s my girl,” he said. Bishop stirred in his lap and opened his eyes.
“We need to get out of here before they come back,” he said.
“You have a head injury, Bishop. Take it slow getting up,” Hudson advised. Bishop tried to sit up and swayed in place. He caught himself and regained his balance.
“We heard that. We gotta get back to the shuttle. They must still be on the station,” Hudson said.
“The shriek,” Boyd said and shot the other men a look.
“Aliens?” Marcus started.
“We’ve been going through the galaxies for several centuries now and have never found intelligent life on any of the planets and systems we’ve come across. It was only a matter of time before we caught their attention.” Sloan said.
“I wouldn’t have believed it if I didn’t see them with my own eyes,” Boyd said.
“It started on the bridge. We heard a shriek and within five minutes everybody was dead. We were in here working on that reactor when we heard the commotion.”
“Let’s go. Get out of here,” Hudson said. “Bishop, are you okay to walk?”
Bishop got to his feet. “When I was out, I had flashes of images in my head. Images that I’ve never seen before. Images
of these creatures you are talking about.”
“Are you trying to tell me that some bug got into your head?” Marcus drawled. Bishop flushed and checked his head wound again.
“Maybe it was just what you guys were talking about while I was out,” he conceded. “But it sure was weird. I’m almost sure it was real.” He said but started towards the door.
“Marcus and Jeannie Lee, you’re flank. Me and Bishop will take the lead. You all are in the middle,” Hudson said. “Everybody clear on that?”
They all nodded and Boyd took the wheel in his hand and brute forced the door open.
“Have you told us everything?” Hudson asked. Something was still not right here. His fears were realized when Boyd nodded.
“They somehow got into our computer and communication systems. We weren’t able to control any of our equipment. We turned off the main reactor so they could no longer track us.” Boyd said.
“I turned the reactor back on again,” Hudson said, terror traveling up his spine.
“Right. We’re running out of time to get to that shuttle of yours,” Boyd said, worry etched on his face. This man wanted to live, thought Hudson.
“Alright let’s do this thing,” Hudson said and stepped through the door. Courage fueling his every move. He might be terrified but he was finally ready to fight.
Their small group had almost reached the docking doors when a clicking sound started all around them. Their proton guns fired up the ceiling and walls as the sound surrounded them. To his shock and terror, the guns weren’t connecting to anything.
“Everybody run for the doors,” Hudson yelled and punched the bay doors open. They had about a hundred feet to the shuttle. It was an insignificant number but it very well could be miles. The thought overwhelmed Hudson. He closed his eyes and let the humiliation of defeat sweep over him. He rejected it fully. No way was he going to die like this.
“Newell, undock the shuttle, we’re coming and we have company,” Hudson yelled as he started running to the shuttle. Newell rushed out of the shuttle doors several seconds later and untethered the shuttle from the docking bay. He took one look behind him and ran back inside.
Arrival: A Saluco Fleet Story Page 2
