by Colin Weldon
“Just making sure you two don’t blow up the ship over a domestic,” Barrington said.
Meridian looked at McDonnell who was turning red.
“Not at all, sir, just a minor disagreement over laboratory protocol, that’s all,” Meridian said smiling.
“Hmm” Barrington said frowning at the smouldering console.
Meridian coughed as he did so.
“Report,” Barrington said formally as he moved over to the console.
Meridian sighed.
“What you are looking at are the results of my last experiment. As you can see, it was less than successful. The problem is, that the only sample of The Black we had on board decided to come alive and inhabit the body of Doctor Tyrone Tyrell. All we have left to work with are theoretical elements,” Meridian said.
“Meaning?” Barrington said.
Meridian moved over to the console and opened a panel at its base. The smell of fused wires filled the room.
“We’ll need to replace the primary circuit, Kyle, can you go to engineering and get a welder? Better ask Tosh to send up one of his boys, just in case,” Meridian said.
Barrington knew the request was so that she could talk to him privately.
“No problem,” replied McDonnell pushing a palm full of curly hair back on his head.
He turned and left the pair alone. Meridian continued to study the innards of the console.
“Look, you know we spent years trying to analyse that thing and look where that got us … nowhere. I’ve tried simulating the compounds that we think make up most of its structure, we know that it’s Silicon based but there were several bonded molecules we still haven’t been able to identify. We’re talking about completely new elements never once recorded on the periodic table. It’s completely pointless. I’ve spent the last six hours poring over Tyrell’s rambling log. By the looks of things, he tried everything from intense heat and chemical compounds, to exposing it to every known toxin that we have on record. While it received a nominal response to 2000°F it still wasn’t hot enough to vaporise,” Meridian said, “Just now, I was trying to see if it would respond to direct high voltage electrical current, a cattle prod if you will.”
Barrington looked at the ground.
“Nothing?” he said.
“Nada,” she replied, “I’m sorry, John, I just don’t know. Best guess is to get hit it with 3000°F and hope for the best.”
Barrington walked away from the console and took a seat by a table covered in data pads.
“The damn thing is organic, Chase. It can’t be indestructible,” Barrington said.
“I agree, but as far as its reactivity to what we have on hand on this ship, it might as well be,” Meridian said standing up and brushing off her knees.
She took a seat on a small stool opposite Barrington and followed his gaze across the lab floor.
“You know,” she said, “we wouldn’t have to destroy it.”
Barrington looked up at her. She raised her hands.
“Just listen to me, whatever the organism is, it’s highly intelligent and Carrie seems to think that it’s doing us good, right?” she said.
“Right,” Barrington said with hesitation in his voice.
“Well, let’s suppose, for the sake of argument, that your fears are never realised and this black goo becomes our saviour. Then we wouldn’t have to do anything,” Meridian said.
Barrington leaned on his knees and looked at her.
“Chase, it’s probably killed Tyrell’s body. It had enough power to persuade Carrie off this ship and send them both out of the known galaxy to God knows where. While Carrie might think she has it in check with her abilities, I am a man who plans for the worst. I want a defence against this thing. And I want it before they return,” Barrington said with guile in his voice.
Meridian sighed and sat back.
“The only way we can defend against it, is if its separated from Tyrell’s body, contained and then jettisoned off the ship, maybe towards a nearby star. That should do it,” she said half joking.
Barrington’s eyes widened. Meridian’s smile slowly dropped.
“I was joking. There’s no way to actually do that,” she said.
Barrington looked at her.
“Why would it leave its host?” Barrington said.
“I don’t like where this is going,” she said.
“Just answer me, do you think it would leave its host if it were dead?” he asked her.
There was a deathly silence in the lab.
“Probably,” she said quietly.
Barrington nodded.
“Thank you, Doctor,” he said standing up and walking towards the exit.
“John?” she said calling after him.
He turned to face her.
“Don’t do anything you’ll regret,” she said.
They looked at each other, but Barrington did not respond. He turned, let the doors slide open, and walked slowly out.
12:
THE SIENNA CLARK
“Well, let’s have it,” Aron said to the group sitting at his table. India had been stirring her drink for the last twenty minutes. Doctor Charles Vishal, who had joined them for their meeting, was leaning back in his chair and stroking his light grey beard. Aron had surprisingly become quite fond of the man, despite him being partly responsible for holding his daughter in a stasis pod for most of her life. Vishal was a quiet and reserved man. He seemed to be very much aware of the subdued resentment towards him. Aron knew he had no choice in trying to reintegrate Vishal into to the colony. He had, ultimately, helped him when the time had come. All he cared about now was that he had his daughter back. She was alive, although somewhat disconnected from the world. He was teaching her though. Slowly bringing her back into the world.
Those that had been successfully freed from the pods had been reunited with their loved ones. Vishal was trying very hard to help rehabilitate them. It was his way of making amends. In some cases, however, it had not been enough. Vishal had dealt with some pretty nasty attacks including calls for a colonial trial and a summary execution of the doctor. Aron had worked hard trying to convince the colonists that killing him was not the answer. They had all been slaves, whether they were in a stasis or not. Arturo Verge was to blame, and they had had their justice.
Aron was respected in the colony and as their De facto leader, his wishes that Vishal be left alone and be allowed to continue his work had so far been adhered to. He looked at Oliver Stone who had his head placed neatly in his hands. His fingers were barely visible under his thick beard.
“So, basically, we’re in deeper shit than we were a few weeks ago,” Ollie said.
India looked at him and nodded.
“No shit, Ollie,” India said.
“I wish we still had our ships,” Ollie said.
Aron had to agree. He missed The Unity. He felt useless without a ship to command.
“Yeah, well, we don’t,” Aron replied.
He looked at Vishal.
“So, no matter what planet we settle on, we’re still going to be destroyed by this invasion of planet-sized robot things?” India said, “Why did she even rescue us in the first place?”
Aron had to take India’s point. Maybe it would have been better to not know.
“That’s a moot point, India. Fact is, she did, and we’re here now. We have to deal with it,” said Aron leaning back in his chair and looking around at the smooth white walls of the windowless room.
The image being displayed on the back wall behind India was that of a dense forest. He was getting fed up with Jack’s attempts to make them feel better. He wanted to see the outside world.
“How long until we rendezvous with The Agathon?” Vishal suddenly said.
“Two days,” replied Aron, “Why?”
“I think we’ll all feel a little better once we’re off this ship for starters,” Vishal replied, “How much do you trust this race of aliens?”
Aron threw his arms out.
“What choice do we have? We’re in a new world here. I know how much we all want off this ship, but look at it,” he said pointing to the smooth lined walls and integrated running lights that zipped by along the walls.
“It’s got weapons, presumably, and we sure as hell have a fighting chance with a highly technologically advanced race, such as this one,” Aron said.
“Unless they want to enslave us back on their home world and use us as food,” Ollie replied.
Aron crossed his arms. As ridiculous as Ollie’s statement sounded, by the looks of things, this race could pretty much do whatever it wanted with the remaining human race. There was nothing that anyone could truly do about it.
“Thanks for that, Ollie, that’s just fucking great,” India replied slapping him on one of his muscular shoulders.
It barely moved with the impact.
“Ouch,” Ollie said with a hint of sarcasm in his voice.
“I trust Carrie. I trust that she has a handle on this better than we do and I don’t think they want to turn us into food,” Aron said.
He looked at India who widened her eyes.
“Well, while you might trust your new girlfriend, the rest of us don’t have that luxury, sir,” India said with resentment in her tone.
Aron also heard something else in her voice. Jealousy. This wasn’t the time or the place for that conversation, so he moved on.
“Vishal, how are the others adapting?” he said changing the subject.
India took a deep breath and got up from her chair. There was an uncomfortable tension in the room. Vishal cleared his throat.
“Some better than others, like Maya, they are all having some speech problems and trouble with dexterity and basic cognition. It’s to be expected, but they are responding. It’s like teaching children how to write, Aron. It will happen, it’s just going to take time,” Vishal said giving him a warm smile.
Aron pulled his waist length jacket back and placed his hands on his knees.
“We just need to wait until we rendezvous with The Agathon, to be around our own kind again,” he finally said to the table of onlookers.
Aron and India exchanged glances. She had her arms wrapped tightly around her chest and looked decidedly unconvinced. Aron had to admit that neither was he.
***
Carrie awoke to the sounds of cool air as it swept across her hair. She gently opened her eyes and found herself lying in a courtyard. She knew this place. It was her courtyard. The courtyard to the fortress she had built for herself deep within the recesses of her mind. She moved her head and pushed dark strands of shortly cropped hair away from her eyes. She was alone. The cobbled walkways twisted and turned around flower beds and small deciduous trees. She was completely surrounded on all sides by the towering walls she had built for her mind. The well defended structure was littered with pulse cannons attached to its exterior. She looked ahead and saw the drawbridge closed. She pushed up on her arms and slowly rose to her feet. She was dazed. She remembered feeling suffocated. She was drowning. She looked down at her Mars Colony One colonial issue jumpsuit. She fought off a wave of dizziness and made her way to the nearest flight of stairs that would bring her to the upper levels so that she could peer over the fortress walls. As she travelled up the stone steps, she was suddenly thrown off balance by a rocking vibration. She took another step forward as a huge crashing noise reverberated inside the fortress walls. Her legs shook again and this time she had to place her hands in front of her feet to stop herself from falling flat on her face. Something was attacking the fortress from the outside. Something very big and very powerful. She took a breath and began her climb once again. She reached the top of the staircase and moved out onto a long bridge, which followed the perimeter of the wall. She moved forward and placed her hands on the smooth curved edge, and peered over into a landscape she had not seen before. A writhing black ocean churned into infinity surrounding the fortress. It was endless. The sky was filled with dark clouds that made seeing anything difficult. A low hazy star in the distance granted her what little light there was.
“My God,” Carrie whispered to herself, “What’s happened?”
She looked across the endless sea of thick black liquid as it ebbed and flowed across the great gulf. A bright light caught her eye as another impact rocked the outer walls. She gripped its edge to stop herself from falling. She looked over the wall and down to the entrance to the drawbridge. A familiar, bright, free floating, crystallised structure hovered at its entrance. She had seen it before. In the medical bay on board The Agathon when the Black, inside Tyrell’s body, had grabbed her arm and shown its true form to her in his mind. Now he was in hers. She suddenly realised what had happened. The Black was in her. She felt rage. It had entered her body and was now trying to eliminate what was left of her mind. It was controlling her in the real world doing God knows what. She felt like a fool. She had been betrayed. She tried to summon her energy but could find none. There was no sign of her powers. She felt weak.
“Fuck you!” she screamed at the rotating crystal form.
“Let me in!” came a booming voice that seemed to come from every direction.
It wasn’t Tyrell’s voice. It was something different. A strange deep growling sound, the like of which she had not heard since she left Mars.
“What did you do?” Carrie screamed as a thick wave of air hit her square in the face. A howling wind began to blow.
“There is no choice, Carrie, it is done,” the growling voice replied.
“God damn you,” Carrie said swallowing her words as the air swept into her mouth.
She turned her head away from it and sank to her knees, laying her back against the wall. She took several deep breaths and placed her head in her hands. She was trapped. She looked up at the dark clouds overhead.
“What are you going to do? Kill us?” she shouted into the air.
“We will save us,” the voice replied, “We are your future. There is no time for this now. Let me in.”
Another impact from outside shook the walls causing her body to flop forward.
“Stop it!” she shouted as she took to her feet again.
She had to do something. She couldn’t just stand there. She felt a pounding in her head and wondered how long she could hold out. She needed more information. She needed time. Then it came to her. The fortress. The Black had not managed to penetrate its walls. She wondered. Standing up she faced out into the ocean of black liquid.
“Weapons!” she shouted.
She watched as the hatches containing her cannons opened, large black barrels slide into view and took aim with seamless coordination. She looked down at the rotating crystal form and focused her attention.
“Fire!” she shouted.
A barrage of light exploded from the guns as a volley of energy pulses unleashed a mighty torrent of firepower towards the sea and the crystal form. Cataclysmic orange explosions rained down in all directions as Carrie’s counter attack progressed. She felt the heat of the fireballs as they plumed in the distance. The crystal form was engulfed in flames. She continued the assault for several seconds before raising a hand.
“Cease fire!” she shouted.
The wind dropped. She pulled the loose hair away from her face and pulled it behind her ear. Thick, acrid smoke rose from the entrance to the fortress. As it began to slowly clear, she saw that the crystal form had vanished. She tasted sulphur in her mouth and coughed. The black sea remained. Ripples of light bounced off endless waves as the tide drew them in her direction.
“You cannot stop us,” said a growling voice in the distance.
“Maybe not,” Carrie replied quietly, “but I can try.”
The smoke began to dissipate and there was silence. All Carrie could hear was the lapping of waves as the thick black liquid broke against the walls of her fortress. She sank once more to her knees. She needed help. Maybe she could weaken it. Hold it at bay. She felt tired and wondered how long she could hold on.
THE AGATHON
“Well, I think we should land and see what’s down there,” said Chavel sitting in the flight chair.
Boyett was in the captain’s chair running sensor scans of whatever the shield was surrounding the planet.
“I mean, they seemed friendly enough. If it were a Targlagdu vessel then it would have attacked by now, so we know it can’t be that. Might be nice to get some fresh air for a change and walk around. Maybe meet new people?” Chavel said turning and smiling at Boyett.
She ignored him. She heard him blow a sigh out of his mouth as he returned his gaze to the view screens overhead.
“So, when are you gonna let me fly this thing, anyway?” Chavel said.
“Never,” Boyett said smiling, “Don’t touch anything on those flight controls either. I have it set up just the way I like it.”
Chavel crossed his arms in protest. He turned to Ripley who was manning the navigational station.
“She’s so bossy,” he whispered to her.
“I can hear you, you know. Any more chitchat out of you and I’ll have you cleaning the waste disposal manifolds for a week,” Boyett said still looking at the console attached to the arm of the captain’s chair.
Ripley laughed.
“You know, I happen to be a damn good pilot,” Chavel said ignoring her and turning back to Ripley, “I once flew a delta class attack fighter through the rings of Saturn at quarter light speed without so much of a scratch.”
“Is that so, Lieutenant?” Ripley said.
Boyett raised an eyebrow.
“My ass, you did,” Boyett said.
Chavel feigned insult.
“I’m telling you, not a scratch. I was also the second person ever to pull off the Delta Lightning manoeuvre while I was in the academy,” he said proudly.
