by Gavin Magson
“Grab your gear, Ilya, make sure you bring plenty of boom sticks with you. Lev, bring your plasma torch; this thing stinks to high hell and I want to know what it is we have in our hold.”
All three walked up the short flight of stairs to their left and through to the cramped equipment room, it's several dusty shelves bare of anything of worth. A single row of lockers held the crews personal possessions and equipment, from which each removed their drilling gear and sorted through for what tools they needed to take. It was a long walk and none relished returning for any missing equipment, though the ridicule might be harder to endure than the extra exercise.
Once the crew were kitted out in their protective clothing and had loaded up their tool bags Duke keyed in his code on an access panel set in the wall. Reinforced doors slowly retracted into the walls either side and gave them access to the cavernous hold.
The cold hit you, hard, and never relented. Their breath hung in the air as each crew member laboured under the loads strapped to them. Ilya let out a long whistle, which echoed throughout the hold for several seconds, bouncing around until it was overcome by the noise of the Insects working below.
As one they started a fast jog across the catwalk suspended from the ceiling, running in parallel to many more which spanned across the hold. They navigated the joining sections, making quick progress over to the asteroid’s far side. When Lev and Ilya pulled to a stop at the nearest point over the outcrop both were coated in a sheen of sweat from the distance covered, shortly they were followed by a wheezing captain billowing steam. He always said he was going to quit the cigars, one day.
Each pulled a rope out of their packs and expertly secured it to the handrails, letting gravity uncoil them down to the asteroid below. Ilya looked over to Lev as he attached a winch to his rope and then tethered it to his belt. He took his gaze away from what his hands were doing for a split second and she had to force back the laugh as all blood drained from his face and left him deathly white. Everyone knew of his fear of heights, it had just taken awhile for him to remember it.
Ilya was reminded of the bar fight near enough a year ago where she had to knock Lev out with a chair in order to throw him out of the upstairs window, no small feat considering the substantial size difference. It was either that or let him burn in the inferno; he wouldn't have jumped even with the threat of burning to death. She was glad Greg had been there to help her move the giant’s unconscious body, without him the man would never have survived.
Ilya wasn't waiting for the other two, her curiosity was her only priority. She slid under the rail, gripping the rope tight as she gently leaned back, playing out the rope until it went taunt. Ilya held onto the winches button, which began to lower her towards the large outcrop below. She looked up to see the captain coaxing Lev off the catwalk; it amazed her that only now he was objecting to being suspended a hundred feet from death.
Ilya looked around the cavern and marvelled at just how endless it was, she had never stepped foot inside here and was lost in its sheer size. Back in the ships heyday it could have accommodated rocks three times the size with change, it pained her that she had never seen anything close to that in her time on board. Duke always spoke of the past with reverence, which only made Ilya all the more jealous.
She looked up again to see that Lev had finally, if gingerly, started his descent; perhaps the captain had pulled his pistol to encourage some progress out of him.
When Duke looked down at her and shouted Ilya knew instantly the mistake she had made; there was just no time to act upon his warning. Both feet landed on a chunk of ice at speed and she was upended, her hand left the winch and she span upside down. Her shoulder collided with the rock underneath, taking the brunt of the blow away from her head, which still bounced from its slippery surface with a dull thud.
There were a tense couple of seconds for the men above, their breathing stopped as they waited for sign of life. Ilya's cursing rang out around the entire holding bay, shortly followed by harsh laughter from her so called colleagues. She managed to untangle herself from the rope and gently eased herself to the cold surface underfoot. A sharp, bitter taste filled her mouth as her head throbbed, not helped by the abrasive cackling from above.
Ilya brushed her hand across where she had clashed with the rock and wiped away a thin stream of blood that trickled out of a slight gash on her temple. Despite the pain, and embarrassment, Ilya was relieved that the blow had not dislocated her shoulder; she did not bother thinking about the worst case scenario, such thoughts would only eat away at her confidence.
She was still nursing her wounds and bruised ego when Lev and the captain arrived on the asteroid’s surface, both being over-dramatic in taking care when they touched down. Lev had his usual blank expression on but the smirk on Duke's face made Ilya's blood boil. Men her whole life had regretted making fun of her; it was fortunate for him that she liked the son of a bitch.
“Almost there, Ilya, you'll be all right once you catch your breath.” said the captain, once he had finally stifled his grin.
Lev extended his hand towards her, Ilya stared back as if it were poison; when she saw no humour in his smile she accepted his offer. With Ilya back on her feet they unbuckled from the ropes and started to carefully trek over to the outcrop, aware of the treacherous ice and certain death should they fall off the asteroid. Insects were hard at work all around them, but the activity thinned out the closer they got to the untouched outcrop.
“Ilya, can you prep five of those boom sticks for me? I want to find out what is blocking all of our scans. I really don't like this.” the concern in the captain’s voice had her on edge, more so than her own worries.
Everyone had heard the horror stories, gas pockets going unnoticed or drilling by hand when you find out you are working above a hollow chamber in the rock. There were ships even worse off than their own, the thought had always been hard for her to believe, which could not afford the bots; Ilya was more than glad of the robotic aides after her grisly induction to the job. She pulled five of the makeshift explosives out of her pack and started arming them as Lev reached the closest face of the outcrop.
When Ilya and the captain caught up to him Lev was running his hand along the cold, rocky surface with a quizzical look upon his face. He stared intently at the subtle colour change in the surface his hand was on, as if it went a shade lighter as his hand ran along the rock. Lev furrowed his brow, deep in thought: was this just a trick his eyes were playing on him? Rocks could not do this, certainly none he had ever seen.
“Ilya, could you lay all the charges around the rock face in front of Lev? That is as good a place as any to get to the bottom of this.” the captain’s voice sounded a little faraway to Ilya. He was distracted and making no effort to disguise it as he surveyed the long, tall shard of untouched rock.
Ilya had not said anything but when Lev touched the surface she too had noticed the colour change, she could not decide what to make of the perplexing sight. Her mind rationalised that his body heat was warming the surface, which caused the shift in colour, but deep down her subconscious riled against the thought. Within moments she had the five explosives stuck fast to the outcrop in a wide, rough circle; Ilya had to borrow Lev to place the topmost explosive, who wisely chose to not make any height jokes at her expense.
Ilya gave the signal that she was ready and they started walking away from the soon-to-be blast area, climbing up and down the many peaks and troughs of the asteroid to clear the vicinity. When Ilya decided they were a sufficient distance away she jumped down into a small trench, balling herself up to make sure that none of the shrapnel found its way to her. The captain had an easy enough time finding a hole large enough to hide within; the same could not be said for Lev.
Ilya could hear Lev's faint grumblings as he walked further away from her. Every now and again she would hear a curse, presumably as Lev found he wasn't as stable on his feet as he thought; she could not help chuckling at his mutterings.
When Lev decided he was as safe as he could be the giant finally shouted over to Duke and Ilya, “Ready!”
The captain shouted out the same and Ilya could finally prepare the device in her hands. It looked like three misshaped tubes heavily strapped together to form an elongated L. The shorter piece had a key in the end and a red button in the middle, the long arm was a crude antenna that gave the detonator sufficient range to keep the wielder alive. She turned the key into position and a small green light at the end of the antenna started to pulse. Ilya took one last look over the lip of her trench to check that all the sticks were still in position, her breath fogging the air around her in the sub-zero conditions.
The captain and Lev started to brace themselves as they heard Ilya scream a countdown, “THREE......TWO......ONE...!”
The blast was deafening, literally. They all heard it begin but within a split second the sound wave was replaced by a high pitched whine that rocked their senses. Both Ilya and the captain were enveloped by dust and shards of ice and rock, Lev was lucky to be shielded from the majority of the debris.
It was Lev, furthest from the blast, who recovered first. He stepped out from the protection of his shield and surveyed the damage; he could not believe his eyes. He was still stood rooted to the spot, mouth agape and eyes wide when Ilya and the captain scrabbled out of their hideaways. The look on Lev's face was mirrored by the other two; no one was expecting to see a half buried spacecraft sticking out of the asteroid.
As dust and debris settled the three crew members could see the exposed side of the craft. It appeared to be heavily damaged, as if it had been through an asteroid field and barely made it out the other side. Its engines were ruined, one looked like it had suffered some form of explosion that the boom sticks could not possibly have caused whilst the other had long since fallen apart. A small patch of paint remained, perhaps the name of the ship, though the majority had flaked off long ago leaving it unrecognisable.
Duke snapped out of his trance and began walking cautiously towards the ship, forcing himself to check for signs of danger rather than stare at the ship. He did not turn to acknowledge the crew members when he heard them begin to follow; he had no idea what to do next with this discovery.
The now visible ship slowly started changing colour as they approached, shifting from the dull grey to try and match the sun scorched rock it was partially buried within. Whatever technology had been used to disguise the craft had taken substantial damage from the blast. It was working again in patches but the camouflage definitely wouldn't cover all of the ship in this condition.
“Tell me I am not the only person staring at the hull of a spaceship, guys?” It was a good thing that the sounds of the explosion had finished reverberating off the holding bay walls, Ilya was almost whispering as she spoke.
“The shield must be down if that blast has screwed up the camouflage. Lev, do you reckon that plasma torch could cut through this thing?” asked the captain.
Lev reached around to unhook the torch from the rig strapped to his back. He let out a low whistle at the task at hand and said, “Only one way to find out, let’s give it a shot.”
“Wait”, said Ilya. “Is it really safe just to cut this thing open? We don’t know what could be hiding within its depths. Who knows what could be alive inside? Could be Believers lying in wait.”
Duke laughed. “The ship has seen better days, judging by the ice build-up it could have been here for centuries. It doesn’t look like any Believer craft I’ve ever seen, nothing else could survive that long. Carry on, Lev.”
In the perpetual darkness of the spaceship there was a strange sound, an eerie noise as metal vaporised under the intense heat of a plasma torch. A rough shape was being cut out of the ships side, faint purple flames traced an outline and flared as metal burned away; it was the only light that had penetrated this darkness for some time.
As suddenly as it had begun the flame went out, silence and calm returned to the ship once again; until Lev put a giant boot to the rough door and sent a slab of metal skimming across the dust strewn floor, kicking up sparks on each bounce.
The first thing to greet the explorers was foul, stagnant air; Duke was fortunate that he had not stepped closer to inspect the ships interior. Ilya was sent retching from the almost toxic air, reeling from its effect on her senses whilst muttering to herself – “safe indeed”. Lev was left very pale, taking breaths only through his mouth, though he showed no other sign of being affected.
The captain stepped back further to talk with Greg over his communications unit, leaving Ilya and Lev to compose themselves and resume surveying the lifeless ship; neither picked up on the smile their captain hid behind his sleeve.
“I'll radio in once we have had a look around this ship, if someone went to the trouble of installing high end camouflage then our radios probably won't have any signal inside. Just make sure you don't jettison anything while we are still down here, if you kill me I'll be back to haunt you.” said the captain, forcing a chuckle. He turned back to face the other two, who were still staring wide eyed into the ship.
Ilya fished out a torch from her pack, which stuttered into life on the second attempt, and swept the beam of light around the derelict crafts innards. Duke could see now that they had cut into a storeroom, shelves had spilled their wares onto the floor and the air was filled with dust from long rotten food. He thought that if the ship had been anchored to the asteroid for long enough it might have lost power; the resulting lack of artificial gravity would have shaken everything up. The fact that there had been enough air present for the food to decay, yet the gravity generators had switched offline left him a little perplexed. Why would the ships power reserves be dedicated to camouflage and not basic life support?
Duke turned to look at Ilya. A slight waxy sheen made visible from the torch light coated her face and her breathing came in short, sudden bursts. “Are you going to be all right to go in there, girl?” he asked.
It took her a few seconds to reply, Ilya seemed to mull over his question as she stared into the lifeless room. Duke suspected she was trying to suppress her body’s attempts to release her stomachs contents, so far Ilya was winning that battle. “Yeah, I'll be okay; I'm just getting used to this foul air. Hopefully the new door will circulate some clean, fresh air around the ship. This place smells worse than the Haven in summer!”
Duke pulled out his torch, stepped through the rough threshold and thanked the gods that anything in this ship would have long since died; he wasn't in the mood for rats, or worse, today. Ilya followed him, her torches beam scanning the corners for anything of value. They were soon joined by Lev, who was sticking close behind; he only had the plasma torch as a source of light and that wouldn't last long if he had to resort to it.
The storeroom was not very big, all three of them did a good job of filling what little space there was. Rows of shelves, anchored to the floor and ceiling, had long since been emptied. Judging by what little was left on the floor the ship’s crew had worked their way through most of the supplies, or did not set off with much to begin with.
They spent a few minutes inspecting any surviving boxes and tins that had not burst, yet no one found anything of value. If the labels were not so faded they would have seen that none of the expiration dates were in a recognisable century.
Duke walked towards the room’s rear in search of a way to reach the ruined engines. His torch found a door but he could not identify any way to open it, there was no console or even a handle in sight. He decided to leave it for now and let Lev hack at it with the plasma torch later, he knew that Lev enjoyed the purple flames. If he didn't know him for anything but a gentle giant the captain would be too worried to let Lev carry that torch;
even such a large ship as his own, made predominantly of metal, was susceptible to accidental arson.
Ilya shone her torch along the wall opposite their new makeshift doorway and stopped as something glinted in the light. She walked over to the wall and inspected it closely until her torch revealed the seams of two doors carefully concealed in the wall.
Just like her captain Ilya could not see an obvious handle or lock on what she presumed were cabinet doors, she could not understand how it was supposed to be opened. There was only one thing for it.
“Any chance I could borrow your cutting skills, Lev?” asked Ilya.
Lev lumbered over to her, his grin hidden as Ilya lifted her torch so that he could see the cabinet’s corners. He unslung the plasma torch and fished out the mask he had fashioned to shield his eyes from the harsh flames. It took a couple of attempts for the purple flame to catch, Lev mused that perhaps the musty air had yet to mix sufficiently with the fresher air now seeping in to the ship.
Once the purple flame caught Lev crouched down and leant towards the wall. He placed his hand to the side of the cabinet, ready to trace the flame along the doors seam. He had barely started to cut below the top corner when he moved the position of his hand and a strange screech came from behind the wall. The sound ceased as quickly as it started and then both doors separated into several sections and concertinaed, folding away into the wall on either side. The big man sighed loudly, disappointed that he had to extinguish his torch.
Inside the cabinet were several objects that Lev presumed had to be weapons, each were unlike any he had seen in the slums he was raised in, yet it was hard to mistake an instrument of death. Blackened weapons, contorted intricately from a single piece of metal, formed sleek shapes that imposed a sense of dread in him. Several different shapes and sizes lined up on a rack, oozing menace even in their holstered states. Ilya leaned around Lev to get a better look at the weapons, her instant look of disinterest was a rarity for any of the crew to witness, though no real surprise when weapons were involved.
