Ghosts of Ophidian

by McElhaney, Scott

  He examined the bars, tapping a bar lightly with the metal guard on his wrist unit. He kept forgetting that he’d get no sound in the vacuum of outer space. He glanced along the edge of the vent and noticed that the red sensor device from the Chinese was still attached between two of the thick bars.

  “I’d say these bars are probably three inches in diameter, with gaps of about five or six inches between each of the bars,” Conner said, wasting no time, “I could cut through these with no problem unless they’re made of some kind of unknown alloy.”

  Lentz shined a light down into the ventilation shaft, but it reflected off nothing beyond about a hundred yards.

  “I’d have to believe this will be our best mode of entry,” Lentz agreed, “The shaft is probably eight feet wide.”

  Conner was already turning on the valves to both the tanks on his cutting torch. He then sparked the torch to life while Lentz scooted away. Conner twisted the valve, shrinking his flame down to the preferred cutting strength. He then brought the flame to the bar in front of him, attempting his first cut.

  “Although it’s cold up here and I’m sure this metal will cool quickly, you might not want to touch anything I cut for a few seconds,” Conner said as he watched the metal bubble up.

  “It’s cutting!” Lentz hollered for the benefit of those in the shuttle.

  He sliced through the bar, then cut through the bar to the right of it. He cut a third bar and then a fourth. Conner then slid down the vent about five feet and proceeded to cut the four bars free from the ventilation shaft. He tossed the bars off into space as they fell free of the unit.

  “We’re in, guys,” Conner said, “Oh, and girl. Sorry.”

  “No apology necessary,” Crossway said, “I’ve always been one of the guys. Today is no different.”

  McKenzie laughed, then motioned for the crew to head toward the vent. By the time they reached the spot where the bars had been cut free, Conner and Lentz were already inside the shaft and approximately twenty feet beneath the grill. The shaft was only wide enough to permit two astronauts loaded full of gear to huddle side-by-side. This was the position of Lentz and Conner while he inspected the depth of the tunnel walls.

  “How’s it looking down there?” Roberts asked.

  “We took a reading about ten feet in and it was unreadable. Steele thinks that means it was up against a beam or something else that was too wide to read,” Lentz said.

  “I think we’ve got it now,” Conner said, showing Lentz the 3.21 reading on his device.

  “We found a three-inch wall,” Lentz said.

  Conner started up his cutting torch again, then brought the flame to the curved wall of the shaft. The metal bubbled up quickly, then exploded into the shaft with a sudden burst of white gas. Conner involuntarily screamed as he pulled the torch away. A gas, obviously not flammable, continued to jet into the ventilation shaft through the small nickel-size hole Conner had punched into the wall.

  “What’s going on? Are you two okay?” McKenzie called.

  “I’m fine,” Conner said, “I think we breeched a gas line here. Is there anyone who can tell me what we’re venting down here?”

  McKenzie quickly searched his bag, taking careful measures to keep things from floating free of the bag and into the void. He found what he had been searching for. He entered the shaft and met the two who were still being faced with a steady stream of unknown gas. He reached in front of Conner and placed his device against the stream of gas. After a couple seconds, it returned with a reading.

  McKenzie brought the object close to his helmet and then chuckled.

  “We’re venting their atmosphere in there. Oxygen, Nitrogen, and a little Argon,” McKenzie said, “Congratulations, Steele! You just verified that the ship has a breathable atmosphere inside.”

  “So, what should I do? Keep cutting?” Conner asked.

  “We might as well,” McKenzie said, “We’ve got to find out why these aliens aren’t responding to any of our attempts at communication. It’s the only way we’ll get to examine their intentions.”

  Conner sighed, then brought the torch back to life.

  “Stay back in case we get more than we bargained for,” Conner said, bringing the flame back to the wall.

  He continued cutting through the metal, noting that by the time he had made an “L” shaped cut, the atmosphere beyond had stopped venting into the shaft. Two minutes later, he finished the cut, leaving it attached by only a hairline sliver of metal. Conner handed the torch to Lentz, then drew his P90 from the special leg holster he’d manufactured. He chambered the first round, then kicked the metal plate inward.

  To his shock, the heavy plate slammed against the floor inside as though gravity had somehow existed inside the small room. He kept his weapon aimed inward; examining the dimly lit room that he was now faced with. The hole he had cut ended up being located approximately three feet above the floor in the room.

  “It looks clear from this viewpoint,” Conner said, “I’m going in.”

  Conner made a frightening mistake that would have proven fatal had there been a hidden foe waiting for him inside the room. He entered the room assuming the same zero G that existed inside the shaft would also exist inside the room. He “swam” into the room headfirst with his weapon ready, but by the time his waist passed over the threshold, gravity had gained enough of a hold on his upper body to force him rapidly to the floor. For those inside the shaft, it appeared as though something had overpowered Conner Steele and swallowed him up.

  “Steele!” Roberts shouted, ducking his head into the ventilation shaft with his MAC-11 cocked and ready.

  “I’m alright. We’ve got gravity in here and it took me by surprise,” Conner replied.

  He rose quickly from the ground with his weapon ready. The room was no larger than ten feet by fifteen and it appeared to serve no purpose, as it contained no furniture. There were two metal crates in the corner and four metal drums that resembled black beer kegs lined up against one of the walls.

  “When I hit the floor, I think I heard what could only be described as an alarm,” Conner said, “Put your helmets against the wall and tell me if you hear it too.”

  He moved cautiously toward a metal door and pressed his own helmet to it.

  “Geeng stom ruttel tut,” a gurgling voice called, “Geeng stom ruttel tut”

  Those deep sounding words were followed by the same chiming sound he took for an alarm before.

  “I hear it,” Lentz said, “It’s a three-tone ring followed by some foreign language, then the three notes again.”

  “It sounds like that alien is drowning as he barks out his commands,” Crossway said, “It’s got to be an automated alarm because it just keeps repeating the same thing.”

  “Probably warning the crew of a hull breech,” Conner said, “And it looks like an emergency door was probably closed to prevent any further loss of atmosphere. There’s no doorknob or handle to speak of on this door.”

  He evaluated the doorframe, feeling around its edges to check its method of movement. He then realized that he never officially told the others that the room was clear.

  “You can all come in. This room is secure, but watch out for the gravity. I highly recommend entering feet first.”

  Conner turned to discover that Roberts was already in the room. The rest of the crew made their way in through his manufactured doorway with no problems. He could tell that Roberts was still on edge by the way he continued to wield his weapon.

  “May I suggest something before you cut through the next door?” the Major’s voice rose through their earpieces.

  “What’s that, Major?” McKenzie responded.

  “Do you have a way to seal off the ventilation shaft?” he asked, “The way I see it, the ship has atmosphere as well as gravity. It also appears as though the ship has an automated defense against the loss of atmosphere. The more often you break through doors and vent off more of the atmosphere, the more often the ship will
probably respond with more emergency doors. I doubt you want to spend your time cutting through more and more doors.”

  McKenzie turned to Conner, but he only replied with a shrug. Lentz turned to the shaft, then glanced around the room.

  “We can do it, but it will probably require a whole roll of Gorilla Tape and ten minutes of wasted time and oxygen,” Lentz said.

  “Let’s do it,” McKenzie said.

  “Wait, how much oxygen do we have?” Conner asked.

  “Look at your wrist readout like you learned yesterday, Steele,” McKenzie said, “You probably have another two hours of air just like I do.”

  Conner verified this, then nodded apologetically. Lentz was already retrieving the thick roll of Gorilla Tape from his bag.

  . . . .

  It only took a little over five minutes to seal off the ventilation shaft. After that, Conner placed a small charge on the door, then had everyone back away. Ten seconds later, the door blew away from the room with almost no sound whatsoever thanks to the lack of atmosphere.

  It only took a second before the atmosphere beyond the room filled their current space. The sound of the alien klaxon was now audible without having to place their helmets against the ship.

  “Geeng stom ruttel tut,” that gurgling voice called, “Geeng stom ruttel tut”

  “At least we know they’re still saying the same thing as before,” Lentz said, “Let’s just hope it’s not something along the lines of ‘Shoot the intruders’.”

  Conner kept his weapon aimed at the open doorway. He ducked his head quickly out into the space beyond their room, then tucked his head back into the room.

  “Looks like a vacant corridor,” he said, taking a quick peek in the opposite direction, “Goes on forever toward the fo’csle and maybe fifty yards toward the stern.”

  “Foaxle?” McKenzie repeated.

  “Our SEAL buddy here is using a nautical term,” Roberts chuckled, “Let’s not forget that most of us aren’t versed in your Navy slang, Steele.”

  Conner turned toward the group, “I apologize, though it’s not slang, Roberts. Fo’csle, an abbreviated version of the word spelled out like ‘fore’ and ‘castle’, is the front of a ship. The stern or the fantail is the rear. And for the record, port is left and starboard is right as viewed in the reference frame of someone facing the fo’csle. Just remember that both port and left have four letters and you’ll never get mixed up. I apologize if I accidentally use these terms.”

  “Don’t apologize, Steele,” McKenzie said, “It’s understandable that you’d use nautical terms for a ship whether that ship is in space or at sea.”

  “So anyway, what’s the scuttlebutt on the hallways again?” Roberts asked.

  Conner looked at Roberts who was grinning at his own attempt at humor. Crossway pushed Roberts, then walked over toward Conner.

  “And a scuttlebutt is a drinking fountain, but enough with the lessons for today,” Conner said, “The hallway looks to be clear in both directions. For now, I recommend going aft since the passageway appears to be shorter. This has me curious, especially since we entered this vessel nearer to the front of the ship than the rear. Logic suggests the hallway should be longer going aft, but it’s not. McKenzie is the leader of the mission though, and is therefore the one who states where we go.”

  “That’s actually a good suggestion, Steele,” he replied, “I’d like us to move single file with Conner taking the front and Roberts taking the rear with their weapons ready.”

  “Why do I get the back?” Roberts asked.

  McKenzie turned to him, confused momentarily by his question.

  “There are two military men in our crew, Roberts, and you’re one of them. I’d like to think it makes sense that the two of you would be trusted to protect the group,” McKenzie said, “And I must say, you’re starting to concern me.”

  Roberts raised his hand defensively and nodded, “I’m sorry. I understand now, Doctor. I’ve got your backs.”

  “Good,” Lentz said sarcastically, “I feel much better now.”

  “Me too,” Crossway added with equal sarcasm.

  Ten

  The passageway offered nothing but a series of doors, which they all agreed would remain unchecked for the time being. The alarm stopped by the time they were halfway to the end of the passage.

  “Do you think they gave up on warning the crew?” Crossway asked.

  “Doon sen wa skon ee tor,” a gurgling voice called over the intercom, “Doon ree ooooooooorrrrk ooorkkkk oooooorrrrkkk.”

  The alien voice was changing now as it seemed to stretch out the words it spoke. The gurgling sound faded from its words as it repeated those last foreign words. They paused and looked up toward the ceiling as though the voice was coming from above.

  “Hok roin cowl,” the voice spoke slowly in a deep baritone, “Wuh wuuuhhh wuuuuuuuhhhhh whyyy do I get the back?”

  “What was that? It just spoke English,” Roberts blurted, aiming his weapon at the ceiling, “Do you think they are trying to communicate with us?”

  “It repeated exactly what you said earlier. I really wonder if it is searching for a way to speak to us. They’ve got to know that we wouldn’t understand their language,” McKenzie said, “If they wanted to communicate though, it would make more sense to meet face to face and start with gestures.”

  “Hok roin cowl,” the gurgling voice repeated, then added, “Ee homa heelkin. Wuuuhh Whaaat was that? It juuuhh just spoke Englishhh”

  “It can hear us. It’s repeating our words,” Crossway said, “I wish we could reply.”

  “I’d rather not say anything they could misinterpret. McKenzie is right – we’d be better off meeting face to face with this alien if it wants to communicate so bad,” Lentz agreed.

  Conner slowly proceeded down the corridor, letting the others follow if they wanted. He kept his weapon ready just in case one of the many doors along the hallway opened up suddenly.

  “I’d be more worried that a face to face meeting with us would more than likely be misinterpreted by our alien friends up here,” Roberts stated, “Seeing as we’re roaming around inside their ship with our phasers set to kill.”

  “I’m not shooting this weapon unless I feel that our lives are threatened, Roberts,” Conner replied, continuing toward the door at the end of the hall, “And I’d expect that these aliens would have a security force who may be armed as well. If they are civilized in any way, we could very well find ourselves faced with something of a standoff until we learn each other’s true motives. We’re ambassadors for the human race, so I’m hoping for a civilized meeting where things can be resolved without any shootings and perhaps a method of communication can be established.”

  He maintained a weary distance from each door they passed while keeping his weapon trained in the direction of any potential assailants.

  “I’d say our country picked the right man to be wielding the P90 then,” McKenzie stated, “I think I’d rather find a peaceful solution also.”

  “Speaking of peace, I say we blow this door,” Conner said, smacking his palm on the door at the end of the passage.

  “I’m for it,” Roberts added, “Everyone loves a good fireworks show.”

  “Let’s do it then,” McKenzie stated, putting his arm out to stop the others from getting closer.

  It only took Conner two minutes to get his charge set. He then urged the others to move further away from the door. A moment later, the charge exploded, sending the sheet of metal sailing into the space beyond. They heard the resounding clang of the door as it bounced off something in the distance. The first thing they noted was that there was no sudden rush of air indicative of a vacuum beyond. They would be faced with another room or passageway with an atmosphere.

  “Let me check it out,” Conner stated, confused by what he was already seeing beyond the doorway.

  It wasn’t until he was inside the doorframe that he understood the magnitude of the room he had entered. He was f
aced with a catwalk that led to the left or to the right, then branched out over a huge expanse of a room before him. He was standing at a metal guardrail, looking down at perhaps thirty or forty levels of identical catwalks that all led outward in fifteen or twenty branches per level leading to God-knows-where.

  “You’ve got to see this,” Conner stated, stepping onto the metal grate that made up the base of the catwalk, “This room is as big as the ship itself.”

  The others joined him, sharing his feeling of awe. He looked up at the ceiling, determining by the arc that indeed, the room probably was taking up the full interior of the ship.

  “It looks like Alcatraz in here,” Lentz said, “I wonder if those buildings out there are a bunch of jail cells.”

  The “buildings” he spoke of did rise up from the ground level all the way up to the ceiling. The catwalks reached out to these skinny buildings, permitting access to both sides of every building. Each building, about ten in all, couldn’t have been more than twenty feet wide, but each stood probably thirty or forty stories tall. This meant that there were thirty or forty catwalks on each side of the buildings that all led back to the forward portion of the ship where the BP1 crew all stood.

  “Seriously, what do you think that is?” Crossway asked, “The buildings are too skinny to be living spaces even if this really is a jail.”

  “I’m not afraid of heights,” Conner stated, “I’ll take the catwalk out there and check it out.”

  “Same here,” Roberts said, “Besides, if there were any aliens in here when we blew the door, I don’t think they would have had time to scurry away without us noticing in a room this size.”

  “Indeed,” McKenzie stated.

  Conner located the door he’d blown off down on the bottom level. That explained the delay in the sound of it hitting against something.

  “Should we split up and take two or three of the catwalks to cover twice as much ground?” Crossway asked.