The Agathon: Reign of Arturo

by Colin Weldon

  “Okay, Gentlemen, let’s get this done,” he said with a quiet confidence.

  The Colonial Guard formed a barrier beside him standing three on each side as they began to walk through the corridors of Earth One on their way to the main docking airlock. Inside the airlock stood a man waiting to die.

  3

  The Agathon

  Conference Room

  Carrie nervously looked at the playback from the monitors trying to gauge the reactions to the images that were being rerun from their escape from the Targlagdu. The killer mechanical planet had lured them to its surface, replaced one of their crew members with a replicated monster and had nearly destroyed the ship. Chavel had returned from escorting Tyrell to the brig and was looking at her from across the table. She ignored his gaze and focused on the screen. The digital images showed her father and Tyrell running across the crumbling surface of the planet as it began to transform. In the distance, an army of alien life forms of all shapes and sizes gave chase. Long, black, snake-like creatures slithered amongst the army towards them as Carrie stood her ground. Bolts of blue lightning began firing from her fingertips destroying the creatures. She stood her ground and kept firing at the alien life forms. Some of them fell to the ground, while others simply exploded.

  “Freeze image,” said Young suddenly. The image froze on Carrie. A thin bolt of electrical energy that was coming from her arms stood motionless. The group at the table turned and looked at her. She gazed at the table not making eye contact with anyone. She felt her father’s hand on her forearm. She looked up at his smiling face as he winked at her. They waited for a response. Young took the initiative.

  “So, what are we looking at Carrie?” he finally asked.

  “It’s okay, Carrie, go ahead,” her father said.

  She took a deep breath and steadied herself.

  “It began about a year ago,” she said pensively, “At first I thought it was a medical condition, but Doctor Brubaker ruled that out. It would only happen at night. In the mornings, I would wake to the smell of burning. I thought there was an electrical problem in my quarters on Mars. It only happened when I had nightmares and seemed to be brought on by certain emotional states. After the Earth was destroyed, the frequency of the outbursts became more frequent. It was brought on by some sort of defence mechanism. Anger was a key factor. If I felt threatened my body would start emitting this…” she paused looking at the frozen image, “…energy,” she said.

  “After a time it seemed that I was able to control it. I don’t know why or how this is happening to me. I’m sorry that I kept it a secret, but I simply didn’t want anyone to be afraid.” She addressed that comment directly at Chavel who was staring at her in wonder.

  “Was it some sort of reaction to the Martian atmosphere? I mean, you were the first child born on that planet,” asked Chase Meridian shaking her head. Carrie looked at her and smiled. Her dearest friend had been close to her mother and father and had pretty much raised her following her mother’s death at the hands of The Black.

  “We don’t know, Doctor,” the captain forcefully said trying to fend off the multitude of questions that were now bound to ensue.

  Carrie felt his protective presence rise in the group and they seemed to get the hint. Young pressed.

  “Astonishing,” said Young, “It could very well be a next step in human evolution.”

  The captain looked at him.

  “How much control do you have over it, Carrie?” Boyett finally asked.

  Carrie suddenly sensed worry in her tone. But not for her. She looked at her curiously. Boyett looked at the captain.

  “I only ask as it looks like the sort of thing that could pose a threat to the ship, Captain. What happens if Carrie has a nightmare and blows a hole in the hull?” she said. The table went silent. Boyett looked at Carrie.

  “I’m sorry, Carrie, but I had to ask,” she said.

  Carrie had to admit the question made sense, but it unnerved her. The captain raised his hand.

  “That is a legitimate question, Lieutenant, and you do not have to apologise. We are all finding our footing with this new discovery and I want to assure you all that we are going to be investigating this fully. However, you should also realise that I will not have Carrie subjected to any unwanted prejudices regarding her ability. We are going to have a full and open disclosure of her abilities with the entire crew to allay any fears that anyone may have,” he said firmly. Meridian broke the awkward silence. Carrie welcomed her jovial tone.

  “Well, we at least need to come up with a superhero name” she said smiling, “How about Electro Chick?”

  Carrie looked at her and laughed.

  “Eh… No,” she grinned.

  “Does it hurt when you’re doing it?” she added.

  Carrie shook her head.

  “Not at all,” she replied.

  “What do you feel when it’s happening?” Young said.

  “There’s a tingling sensation at the base of my spine. Then a warmth, and then something I can’t quite put into words. A feeling of power,” she said quietly.

  “Astonishing,” he replied eyes widening.

  “In answer to your question, Lieutenant, it seems that I am attaining some level of control over it. I do not believe that it poses any threat to the ship. I would be lying if I said I was 100 percent positive, but unfortunately, I cannot be,” she added.

  “Why is Tyrell in the brig, sir?” asked Boyett suddenly breaking the conversation. Carrie suddenly felt her father’s tension ease at the change. He shifted in his seat.

  “That’s not Doctor Tyrone Tyrell,” he said, “Tyrell was in the lab when we landed on that planet. The containment chamber holding the specimen of The Black ruptured and it entered his body.” He looked around the table.

  “What?” Young said.

  “It would appear that the alien life form we know as The Black is a sentient species of life,” he said. “How long it had been on the surface of Mars is anyone’s guess,” he stated looking at Carrie. “But, what we do know is that for whatever reason, when it came into contact with Tyrell, it bonded with him instead of liquefying him, as was the usual outcome of human contact with the substance.” He sat back in his chair and threw his arms in the air inviting comment.

  “Jesus fucking Christ!” said Meridian.

  “That was my initial reaction, Chase, thank you. Hence, he is now in the brig,” Barrington said. Carrie looked at Young who was still staring at her wide eyed.

  “Could you please stop staring at me, Mr Young? You are making me uncomfortable,” she said.

  He shook his head apologetically and raised his hands.

  “I’m sorry, Carrie. This is a lot of information to process.” He turned to the captain who frowned at him.

  “Sorry, John,” he added clearing his throat and getting up from the table to pour himself a glass of water from a side table.

  “So,” her father said, “Where are we and where the hell is Tosh?”

  “He’s in sick bay, sir, the creature that attacked him in the engineering bay left a nasty wound that Brubaker is attending to,” said Boyett. Carrie looked at Chavel who sat quietly looking at the table.

  “Lieutenant?” the captain asked him. Chavel didn’t answer. “David?” the captain said more forcefully.

  “Huh?” Chavel said raising his head. He looked dazed.

  “Any indication from the navigational array on our current position?” he asked.

  “Eh ... sorry, sir, no. The computer is still running astronomical marker checks. It could take a few hours. We literally just punched in a set of random coordinates in the escape, so the vectors are a little screwed up. Bear with me, sir. I could use Doctor Tyrell’s help in all honesty,” he said looking at Carrie. She could tell he was upset. He had been injured on the planet and looked weary. She sensed a distrust towards her and an anger. She turned away and looked at her father. He sighed. Young raised his hand. The group turned to look at the form
er CEO of Jycorp.

  “John, what the hell was that thing?” he asked referring to the mechanical planet that had captured the captain and replicated one of their crew members, “What did you see down there?”

  “Tyrell called it The Targlagdu,” Carrie answered for him, “It is an ancient life form created millions of years ago by a species long extinct. Apparently it travels the galaxy feeding on alien life and replicating them for energy and to serve its needs.”

  “Right,” said Young, “So instead of finding the Signal Makers we stumbled upon a killer planet filled with robotic alien life? I don’t get it. I thought our coordinates for the signal were locked into the flight computers. This was definitely the Aristaeus system, no?” he asked the room. There was silence. “Christ,” he said leaning back in his chair.

  “Right, then,” the captain finally said, “I want a ship wide diagnostic immediately. Boyett, I want a full test on all bridge systems done. Chavel, I want a location on our position. Mr Young, we need to establish the Signal Maker’s signal, if it’s still out there, so please work from the aft communications station.” Young was about to protest, but the captain put his hand up.

  “Please,” he said, “first order of business is to lick our wounds and get our bearings. I will be in the engine room after a quick visit to the medical bay to check in on Tosh. I want services arranged for casualties,” he said looking at Boyett. She looked sad. Carrie had heard that Landon Emerson, the Irish Chief Engineer, had been killed by something that looked like Crewman Amanda Llewellyn. She sensed that Boyett had been close.

  “After that, I think I’ll pay Doctor Tyrell, or whatever the hell it is, a visit. I think it’s time we had a chat.”

  “And me?” Carrie asked him. He looked at her softly.

  “I am ordering you to get some rest,” he said.

  The Agathon

  Crew Quarters

  Deck 4

  A small candle burned on Katrina Padrosa’s nightstand. She stared blankly into its rhythmic flicker and thought about setting herself on fire. It would be quick, probably painful, but if that was God’s will, then so be it. Perhaps her flaming corpse would cause the fire to spread to the rest of the ship and maybe even suffocate the last of humanity to death. She was ashamed of herself. Her explosive device had not worked. She repented and begged forgiveness for her failure to carry out God’s will. Their time had come to an end. They had been selected for rebirth. Her husband and two daughters on Earth had been reborn. The Signal Makers had vaporised them. They had followed God’s will and cleansed the universe of the sickness of the human race. Now this flying abomination was trying to save them. It was trying to cheat God. She had tried to solve that. Her explosive device was simply not strong enough. She clasped the palms of her burnt hands together. The skin was still raw from her first test. The missing little finger on her left hand reminded her to be more careful with her next attempt. She was still unsure of how it was that she had come to be on this ship. She had been in the medical bay of a transport back to Earth when the ship had been turned around in mid-flight. She awoke to find herself on The Agathon. Her head had hurt. She had no memory as to why she had been on the transport. She had been sick. She had known that much. She had been seeking treatment for the nightmares. Those horrifying torturous nightmares that had assaulted her late at night. She had seen the face of God. A monster in the forest with large bulbous red eyes and fangs that craved raw flesh. It had chased her, screaming at her to do the things she had done. It controlled her and she could not break free from its grasp.

  She looked at the side table and placed all the components neatly in order. She steadied her hands and began cleaning the connections gently with a sterile cloth. It was slow work, but the stillness that the darkness lent itself to, helped her steady her nerves. She quietly examined the container of fluid and made sure that the seal was dry and air tight. She was assembling a gateway to God. The only place she was sure that it would work was the heart of the ship. She had to pierce its walls from within. She was going to destroy the soul of this ship to free them. She thanked God that she had been chosen to bear witness to the end of all things. She felt a sense of joy radiate through her body. The pain of losing her children was replaced with a calm sense of purpose. She had grown accustomed to the constant throbbing of the large mass, which grew on the surface of her brain. She had very little time to carry out His will. She was finally free. Free from her incarceration on the transport ship. Free to move within the belly of the beast. There had been too much chaos in the weeks that had followed the destruction of the Earth. They had not noticed her. Far too preoccupied with saving themselves to even think about what God had actually wanted. They had given her the tools to carry out her work so easily. It was a gift. Her last gift to the world. This ships beating heart would soon be silenced and they would all be reborn into the great cosmic nothingness. She turned her attention back to the device and carefully removed the seal on the container. The blue fluid swirled around as she connected the detonator. She placed the device back on the nightstand carefully and looked into the candlelight. She raised her left hand and placed it over the flame and the heat filtered through her body. The smell of burning flesh filled her senses and she smiled. Her shaking hand remained perfectly still as tears flowed down her cheeks. As her hand slowly burned, she let out a scream of delight.

  Earth One

  Main Airlock - Cargo Bay 1

  “My fellow colonists,” said Arturo from the bridge above the cargo bay airlock, “Welcome.”

  There was silence from the sullen crowd beneath him. He looked out at the pale faces of the men, women and children who gazed upwards. He noted the healthy fear in their eyes. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted a young girl on the shoulder of a large black male. Her torn clothing hung loosely from her shoulders. Her hair was tangled into knots and she held what looked like a small stuffed animal, presumably made for her by her parents. She smiled and waved at him. Her father quickly pulled her arm down and whispered something into her ear.

  “It is with great regret that we gather here once again for such a solemn moment,” he said into the microphone which dangled from a long cord attached to a metal beam.

  “For a thousand years, we have journeyed together. It has not been easy. But, we have thrived. The spirit of the human race cannot be destroyed. Through conflict and hunger, we have travelled a great distance. The old stories tell us of our destination. The great Sienna Clarke’s vision of our people is alive and well in each of us. Every morning I awake with such pride and admiration for our people. The laws that we enacted from the great war are in place for all our safety. The actions of one rogue element reflect poorly on all of us,” he looked into the sealed door of the main airlock. A face stared defiantly back at him.

  “Thomas Greenly,” he said pointing at the man behind the glass window, “was caught in the forbidden zone. He freely admits his guilt and takes responsibility for his actions, not only for himself, but for the good of his family and the tribes,” he said loudly.

  “I honour his choice to abide by our laws. As should you all,” he said looking out at the faces.

  “Our laws must not be broken. One broken link threatens our very survival as a species. Look at your children. Look into their eyes as we carry out his sentence. What kind of world do you want for them? We know the distance to the Signal Makers is a vast one. We know there is hardship ahead. But when we arrive to our new home world, and arrive we will, your children’s children will be the ones settling on that new world. We must begin their future with the best version of ourselves. A strong race of humans capable of following the rule of law,” he paused.

  “Or we will die as a people and the universe will never know what could have been for the human race,” he finished. He looked out at the faces. He spotted a familiar one, recognising it from the folder he had created for Florence. It looked at him angrily. He smiled at the face of the man. He turned to face the old man in the
airlock who was now looking at him calmly. The man closed his eyes.

  “Thomas Greenly, you are hereby sentenced to darkness. We thank you for your service,” he finally said. He turned to his left, to one of the heavily armoured Colonial Guards that was flanking him and gave a light nod. The guard nodded in response and tapped a command into a control pad fixed onto the rail of the bridge. The lights in the cargo bay dimmed. Inside the airlock a flashing rotating red light silhouetted the man. He placed his hands on the window and drew a breath. An alarm began to sound from inside the airlock. An explosive sound echoed through the cargo bay as the outer doors were opened. Greenly was ripped from the window, and a second later he was gone. Silence descended on the cargo bay as the sound of crying filtered through the crowd. The lights lifted to normal levels. Arturo looked at the empty airlock and looked at the handprints left on the glass. He turned, and with his entourage of guards, made his way across the bridge and out of the cargo bay. Arriving at the entrance, he was greeted by Florence.

  “So, what else have we got for today?” he asked her flatly. He looked at her sad face and sighed.

  “Oh, for God’s sake, Florence, get a hold of yourself, will you? We have a busy day today,” he said.

  She looked at him red eyed for a moment before addressing the floor.

  “Yes, sir, I apologise,” she said.

  She was growing tiresome, he thought.

  “You have a meeting with Vishal, sir, in two hours,” she said. “Aron Elstone’s ship is docking presently. I have notified him that you wish to speak with him. He should be in your office in thirty minutes,” she said.

  “Very good,” he said moving past her out of the cargo bay and into the halls of the space station. He could hear the muffled sounds of the colonists behind him as he left.