Virtual

by S A Pavli

  "Double fantastic," said Jimmy. “But, do you think we can get this working?”

  "I very much doubt it," said Mark. “But our scientists can work out what these machines do, and duplicate them. Anyway, I do believe that our own scientists are on the verge of creating the same thing. There's a professor Chan on Earth who has apparently worked out the theory behind the Trans-Gate . So building it should not be too difficult. Discovering this will just make it easier.”

  "Just walk through the gate, and you’re on the moon,” muttered Jimmy.

  "Or any other planet," said Mark. “It won 't take you to the stars, but perhaps that will come too, in time.”

  "Alden, are you receiving video from our cameras?” asked Mark.

  "Yes Mark,” came the voice of Alden through their speakers.

  "Forward it to Anja's team on the moon, and to Melanie's team," he said. “I'll walk around and try to get as much of this on record as we can.”

  The next few hours passed quickly for Mark as he and Jimmy tried to get as much detail of the Trans-Gate installation on record. They filmed and photographed all the machines and the gate in detail, allowing Alden to build up a composite image of the whole installation. They located the power room with it's banks of huge capacitors to power the gate, and the control room with its computers and rows of monitor screens. It was all uncannily familiar.

  "Technology is technology I guess,” muttered Mark. Anja came back to tell him that her team were preparing to go back down to the moon to install better lighting and do the same job there that Mark and Jimmy were doing. Mark had heard from Melanie, who was delighted with their find, but in the excitement he had not asked for progress reports from her. He was suddenly reminded of the time by the beeping of his battery alarm. The battery supplied the power for his air conditioning system, which sucked in air and sterilised it, which meant that they did not have to carry heavy air cylinders and could spend much longer in their suits. But the drain on the battery was heavy and it had a life of six hours.

  "Battery alarm Jimmy, we need to get back.”

  "Ditto Captain, my one is getting low as well," replied Jimmy.

  "Well, we’ve done a good days work here I think," said Mark with satisfaction. They headed back the way they had come, having no difficulty in finding their way back. The sun had turned to the west, but the day was still hot and bright with another three hours of daylight still left. As they trudged across the square towards the shuttle, the comms hissed and Alden's voice came through.

  "Mark, I have had an emergency message from Melanie's team. There has been an accident.”

  Chapter 28

  The bridge had looked so pretty, Melanie could not resist walking out to enjoy the view. It was a slender delicate lacework of what looked like aluminium, spanning the dried river bed, in the heart of the decayed old city. Their expedition had gone well so far and she was enjoying herself. At first, the desert had scrolled like a monotonous river of sand beneath them. Then they had flown over a dried river bed, and the countryside had started to become more rugged. She was reminded of the old novel by Edgar Rice Burroughs about Mars and its races of red men and four armed green warriors, and their floating ships racing above the red sands of the dead planet. No beautiful maidens here though ; no fierce ten foot green warriors.

  Then the first stunted vegetation had appeared and they had landed to take samples. Small insects had scurried in the sand and Walters had caught a couple in a sample cup, complete with a scoop of red sand. Gradually the earth had turned greener, with the appearance of trees and then the remains of a small village had appeared. The buildings had collapsed and become overgrown with moss and vegetation. The quality of construction was poor by comparison to the desert city they had left, the decayed walls like broken teeth thrusting through the earth.

  But green now predominated, and as they approached the isthmus of the huge river where it joined the sea, they flew above thickly wooded slopes and deep green valleys. They stopped frequently to take samples of plants and insects while Walters chipped away at boulders and examined cliffs and river beds. Birds and insects there were plenty and they saw small rodent like creatures and once something larger, but no large animals. Melanie soon realised how odd this was. If there had been a widespread civilisation, surely they had farmed animals for food. What had happened to those animals, their equivalent to our sheep, cows, chickens and pigs? The place should have been swarming with them.

  They had found the sea and flew parallel to it, over undulating golden beaches and rugged cliffs, stopping frequently to take photographs and samples, passing over the remains of decayed buildings spotted along the beach front.

  "Holiday homes and hotels,” Walters had declared. Soon the buildings had become more numerous and then continuous as they flew over the remains of a large city. There was little left of it, most of the buildings collapsed and overgrown, some invisible under huge trees and bushes. Melanie was surprised as to how well the desert city they had left had survived compared to this place. Walter’s theory that it was a much more modern city must be right she mused.

  The old city straddled the bay and delta formed by the river which ran into the sea there. Although they had not come to explore ruins, they spotted the beautiful bridge and landed next to it to take a closer look. It was a delicate footbridge spanning what must have been a small tributary to the main river. A tributary which had now dried, leaving a rugged rocky crevasse, heavily wooded where the tributary had coursed its way to join the main river and the sea.

  The view from the bridge was spectacular. They were high up and in the distance they could see the broad river flowing into the bay and the sea, the river silvery grey with silt, the sea a deep azure reflecting the hot sun. On either side, buildings must have crowded along the river bank, their remains now being a wall of trees growing at odd angles and jutting masonry with the occasional ragged spire pointing forlornly at the sky. Melanie mused on how beautiful it must have been and she was almost moved to tears by the loss of a whole civilisation and it’s works. The alien sun was settling low on the horizon, but its heat still reflected brightly off the old bridge which cast its shadow into the ravine, Leslie moved past her and towards the centre of the bridge to admire the view while Walters was at the side looking for a way down into the old river bed.

  "Like to get down into the river bed and see how long ago it dried out," he said, looking for a way down from the remains of the old road. Their hover car was parked on a clear part of the road just a few metres from the bridge.

  "The view is just magnificent from here," said Leslie from the middle of the bridge. Melanie walked over and stood next to her.

  "It's beautiful,” she agreed. “Can you imagine what it must have been like? How sad it all is.” There was a crack and a screech of metal and the floor of the bridge they were standing on collapsed beneath them like a piece of rotten cardboard. Both women cried out and grabbed for the handrail, but that too collapsed in their hands and they were precipitated twenty feet into the river bed below. Fortunately, the heavy bushes and vegetation cushioned their fall, but they broke through that and fell into a dark and dank hole, sliding down a sandy slope and both coming up hard against a boulder. There was a loud crack as they hit and both lay still. Their intercoms hissed and Walters agitated voice came through.

  "Melanie, Leslie, bloody hell speak to me!” He continued to bellow insistently into the microphone, interrupting his pleading with expletives. It was Melanie's voice that eventually interrupted him.

  "James this is Melanie. I'm ok I think, can't feel anything broken anyway.”

  "Thank Christ Melanie, how's Leslie?" he asked.

  "I’m just checking her,” came the response. Melanie could just make out Leslie's huddled form in the darkness. She was crumpled and still. She was distracted by a blinking red light on her suit display.

  "Shit, my suit's damaged," she said. “Air re -cycling system is down. I'll attend to that when I've checked
Leslie.”

  "If your air re -cycling is down you don't have long Melanie," said Walters.

  "If I have to breath native air, I'll breath native air," said Melanie, gently turning Leslie's prostate form over.

  "Oh Christ, her helmet's cracked,” she said. “That was the loud crack I heard when we came to a stop.”

  "Is it leaking?” asked Walters.

  "Can't tell but I see some red lights blinking on her display," said Melanie.

  "Is she unconscious?” asked Walters. “Sorry, I guess she must be,” he finished, answering his own question.

  "Yeah, she’s out," replied Melanie. “I'm just checking her for broken bones, I think she may be ok. She must have taken a knock on the head. Oh God, what's this!” The last exclamation was torn from her and she jerked back in shock.

  "Melanie what's happened,” exclaimed Walters.

  "This place is teeming,” she gasped.

  "Teeming? With what?”

  "They look like insects. Big ugly bastards," said Melanie.

  "Well, don't worry, insects don't usually attack people," said Walters reassuringly.

  "Did someone tell them we're people? Cos they seem to be having a good go at Leslie's suit.”

  "Those suits are tough," said Walters. “Carbon fibre and plastic strands. They’ll have a job getting through that.” As a biologist, Melanie was not unused to dealing with all manner of creeping and crawling things and was not at all squeamish. But being in a dark hole on an alien planet with a few thousand large insects was a threat to even her stoical scientific detachment. She tried to suppress her fear and turned on her helmet light. She looked around the hole they were in and examined the steepness of the incline they had slid down.

  "James, I may be able to crawl up this incline and get out, but I don't think I can drag Leslie out with me.” As she tried to stand, an excruciating pain lanced through her ankle. She gasped and took the weight off her ankle immediately. “Update on that James, I think I may have twisted my ankle.” She was panting with the pain and she felt the sweat break out on her brow. Was it her imagination or was the suit getting stuffy? another red light was blinking on her suit display. It was the one for low oxygen .

  "My air recirculation is definitely down James. I'm going to have to remove my helmet," she said.

  "Melanie, it's not just exposure to the planet's microbes that's the problem. We don't know whether the Virtuals are active on the planet yet," said Walters.

  "I'll keep it on for as long as I can," she said.

  "I'm going back to the car to get a rope then I'm coming down to you. Hang on.”

  "Hurry James," she said. “We don't have long.” She was busy brushing the insects off Leslie, and then she noticed that they were also swarming up her legs, attacking the tough fibre of her suit with ferocious energy. She divided her time equally between brushing the insects off Leslie and herself, but it was a losing battle. Her air became progressively stuffier and she felt herself becoming light headed. Her chest heaved but no oxygen was getting into her lungs. The first effects of hypoxia said a warning voice inside her head. Yet even as she felt her brain shutting down, another part of her brain was as clear as a bell. I need to remove my helmet now that part of her brain said. She undid the clamps holding her helmet and twisted it off. The warm and fetid smell of rotting vegetation assailed her nostrils, but the rush of oxygen was invigorating. She gasped for air for a few seconds, feeling her strength returning.

  "Melanie, I'm on my way down but the vegetation is very thick. I'm hacking my way through it, but it's going to take some time.” Walters was panting heavily from his exertions and she could hear the thump of his machete and the rustle of bushes. She heard a rustling noise and looked down at her body. It was covered with the insects, their mandible busily chomping away at her suit. She felt terror rising within her, but her cool objective scientific mind was still working in t he background. Why are these insects attacking us she asked herself. Our plastic suits are not food, they should not be attracted to them.

  "I’ve let Mark know we have an emergency," said Walters in between pants. “He's flying the shuttle down, should be here in a few minutes.”

  "Don t know if we have a few minutes James. These insects are eating us alive," she said. She continued her efforts to brush them off, then noticed with horror that the whole of Leslie's body was black with them, except for her helmet. The cold scientific voice interrupted her again. You haven t been bitten yet ; they're not eating you. She directed her lamp down onto her torso and examined the insects carefully. In places, her suit had been eaten through, but the insects made no attempt to attack her garments underneath, or her skin. They were, it appeared, only interested in the plastic of the suit.

  "James, something interesting here," she said.

  "Something interesting?” panted Walters. “Did you say something interesting? Now I've heard everything. She's down a hole with a broken leg and a broken suit with a million insects trying to eat her, and she's found something interesting to talk about. Do tell, I'm all agog!” Melanie laughed, which she had to admit even surprised herself.

  "No, seriously, this is really amazing, The insects are only eating our suits. I haven’t been bitten once. I'm checking Leslie and she's the same. No blood. Her skin hasn’t been touched. I'm removing my suit to confirm that.” Melanie struggled out of her suit, batting insects out of the way as she did so. As she threw it away from her, the insects swarmed towards it, completely ignoring her.

  "Yep, they're not interested in human flesh. Just plastic," she said. “Do you know what that means James? Life forms have evolved on this planet that can metabolise plastic. That's amazing!”

  "I guess that shouldn't be too surprising,” panted Walters. “If the aliens were anything like us, this planet must have millions of tons of the stuff everywhere . Something was bound to evolve to eat it eventually.”

  "Yes but imagine how useful these lovely little insects are. They are a biological gold mine.” Melanie was busily removing Leslie's suit, brushing off insects while she did so. “I'm afraid I've had to remove Leslie's suit as well. It's totally compromised anyway, the helmets broken and the suit has been half eaten by the insects.”

  "Is she still unconscious?”

  "Yeah, nasty bump on her forehead," replied Melanie. She was cradling Leslie's blonde head in her arms, examining her closely. “How are you doing?”

  "Hard work getting through the undergrowth,” panted Walters. “But I think I see your hole just one second.” There was some heavy grunting, a crackle of breaking branches and then a cry of “Oh shit!” from Walters.

  "James!” began Melanie , but she didn't have to say any more. A heavy body slid down the incline, arms and legs thrashing, and crashed into the boulder at the bottom accompanied by a torrent of profuse cursing. “Oh bloody hell James!” she exclaimed, releasing Leslie she hobbled over to him. He hadn't fallen as far as they had and it appeared only his dignity was damaged. He stood up and brushed himself down, looking around him.

  "Nice place you have here," he said.

  "Glad you could join us," said Melanie, her voice heavy with sarcasm. Their intercom crackled.

  "James, Melanie, this is Mark. We'll be with you in a few minutes. Anywhere to set the shuttle down near by?”

  "Not very close Mark," replied James. “Best to set the shuttle down on the beach and come the last couple of miles in the hover car.”

  "Check. What is your situation," said Mark, his voice calm and measured.

  "Um well,” began Walters, tentatively.

  "Hello Mark, this is Melanie,” interrupted Melanie. “Leslie is unconscious, I've got either a badly twisted or broken ankle. We can't get out of here without assistance.”

  "Where's James? How long before he is with you?” asked Mark.

  "Oh not long at all," replied Melanie. “In fact, he is with us right now.”

  "Good, excellent. James, what equipment do you have? Do you need us to bring
anything else? Can you get them out on your own, or do you want to wait for us?”

  "Not good, not excellent," replied Melanie. “James has had a little accident and has fallen down the hole to join us. You will have to get all three of us out.” There was a pause for a few seconds before Mark's voice came back.

  "Sorry Melanie, just confirm that will you. James had fallen down the same hole?”

  "Yes dammit, down the same bloody hole,” interrupted Walters .“The sand is very slippery and muddy and I lost my footing. You're going to have to watch it that the same thing doesn't happen to you.”

  "Right James, thanks for that," replied Mark. “Jimmy is the expert so I'll put him on and you can describe your situation in detail. We can then decide on the best rescue strategy.” Jimmy came on the intercom and they attempted to give him as clear a picture as they could of their situation.

  The next few minutes passed slowly. Walters explored their environment, muttering technical expressions and even taking out a small hammer and chisel to chip away at the large boulder.

  "Must be an earthquake zone here,” he remarked. “See the way the earth has split? Classic.”

  "Yes, thanks for the geology lesson James," said Melanie. She was observing the ants, who were now busily carrying off tiny bits of their shredded suits into one dark corner of the small cavern. Melanie hobbled curiously over and shone her torch into the corner. It was a hole between a number of large intertwining tree roots. She peered into the hole and saw a complex honeycombed structure, almost as tall as her. It was teeming with ants.

  "Come and look at this material the ant's nest is made from James," she said. Walters came over and the combined light of their lamps lit up the nest. It was a pale brown colour and looked like hard plastic. She rapped her knuckles on it.

  "It's as hard as steel," she said.

  "More like a resin," said Walters, poking it with a chisel. A number of ants swarmed up his chisel and he brushed them off.