by Aaron Dennis
****
Adams led a team through another tunnel. He moved at a tremendous rate without even a light. Within minutes he was lost to his team. Fitzpatrick took the rear, grumbling about his idiocy, and DeReaux, who was in front of her, asked her to keep quiet. The new leader, since Adam’s departure, was Korit. Behind him was his partner, Lom-Pu, who carried two sidearms.
“Where the fuck did he run off to?” Fitzpatrick whispered.
“Don’t know. I hope he knows what he’s doing,” DeReaux replied, softly.
“Your friend seems rather foolish,” Korit commented. Lom-Pu noticed movement, and whispered in Thewlish. “Its Adams on his way back,” “Korit translated.
Their lights revealed as much. “I’ll take the rear,” Adams cackled. “This Lokian is turning around. Be prepared to shoot it in the mouth!”
He moved past the crew then stayed facing the opposite direction, peering into the darkness. Soon, a slithering, scurrying sound resounded. Korit remained steady, his cannon aimed into the darkness, when smooth, brown tentacles broke free from the shroud. The alien let loose a powerful burst from his cannon.
As the bolt of energy rushed forward, it lit the tunnel, showing a glimpse of a monstrous, round mouth filled with concentric rows of razor, sharp, metal teeth. They spun in circular fashions, both clockwise and counter clockwise. The Lokian was more machine than creature, but the plasma burst exploded in a dazzling array upon striking the gaping maw.
Tentacles flailed in rage and ferocity coupled with a thunderous hiss. Lom-Pu dipped in front of Korit, both arms pointing twin guns at the writhing beast. She fired repeatedly, unleashing a strobe effect.
During the intermittent, light display, DeReaux took aim, firing into the mouth. Unexpectedly, the Lokian rocked its mass against the frozen walls. Ice fell, and the thing spewed a blast of acid, covering Lom-Pu.
She flailed back and hit the ground hard. The acid mixed with the ice underneath, resulting in a viscous surface, forcing the screaming Thewl to slide down the declining path, and towards the Lokian. Korit tried to grab hold of her, but the tunnel shook from the creature’s heavy movement.
“Son of a bitch,” Fitzpatrick yelled. She and DeReaux fired past Korit, who was unable to keep his footing. Chunks of exoskeleton erupted from bullets. “Get some! Get some!”
Having backed away to leave his comrade for dead, Korit grunted and fired a blast of super heated H-4, which flamed out in a bluish-green haze. Heat immediately flooded the tunnel. The concentrated heat, set the Lokian on fire before it exploded, painting the walls in smoldering chunks of chitin.
The cannon ceased. The flame and light died out, leaving only the gun lights to illuminate their environment. Korit’s display had melted a portion of the interior, covering them with droplets of water. Everyone was on edge, on the verge of vomiting or screaming. DeReaux wiped his visor free of goo and water.
“No time to rest,” Adams said.
“What?” DeReaux cried out.
“Reinforcements from the rear!”
“Oh, son of a bitch,” Fitzpatrick exclaimed.
Korit knelt over the melted corpse of his partner. Taking a sorrowful breath, he backed away to force his way beyond the others. Adams attempted to halt his blitzkrieg, but the giant overpowered him, so he pulled out two, black, baton-type weapons before giving chase.
With little more than haggard breaths over the comms., other crew mates from other tunnels spoke words of distress, yet Korit stared into the darkness. He heard a trace of movement, felt it in his bones, and he pulled a small, round, silvery ball from a compartment on his right thigh.
“Enough of this,” he whispered.
After pressing a button on the device, he tossed it. It lit up the whole shaft a blinding white. By the time eyes readjusted, Adams pulled up the flank, followed by Fitzpatrick and DeReaux, who took knees to steady their aim at three lanky, shiny, Lokians.
They were radically different from the tunneler, and looked like bipedal crabs with enormous limbs. Most gruesome was their heads; eight, black eyes leered hungrily at the crew. Metallic hoses ran rampant throughout their exoskeletons.
“Ew,” Adams remarked.
The brawlers ran forwards with all four arms outstretched. Korit fired his cannon, hitting the first one with no problem. The blast knocked the creature back, but the other two flanked the falling creature. One struck Korit in the sternum, totally flooring him; they were bad, they were tall, and they weren’t playing around.
Adams leapt headlong—his batons glowing bright red—and performed a lateral summersault. No sooner had he landed on fists and knees, he started smashing into an alien. His weapons flashed brighter on impact, sending limbs sailing. Fitzpatrick and DeReaux each fired a round at the head of the brawler bearing down on the rising Korit. Its head burst, but the Lokian kept striking wildly.
“God damnit,” Fitzpatrick screamed.
“Keep your eyes on it,” DeReaux grunted.
“I know!”
The scenario playing out in front of her wasn’t nearly what she expected of battle. Between horrid, shrieking monsters and the bobbing weaves of Adams, the athletic, there was a lot to take in, but she exhaled, firing into the Lokians. Korit, finally able to take aim, blasted the last one in the chest, blowing it to bits. DeReaux and Fitzpatrick were left astonished, their fingers cemented to their weapons.
Adams shut off his batons and put them away. He dusted himself off like it had been no big deal. Korit picked up his light emitting device, shut it off, and motioned to move.
“Fitzpatrick,” DeReaux asked when they made it back to the partially dissolved Thewl.
She didn’t reply, but shook her head in disbelief, returning wide eyes. They both walked over to Korit, who stood over his deceased partner.
“I’m sorry, Korit,” Fitzpatrick said, solemnly.
“We are all prepared for a final journey. It’s a shame hers came to an end so abruptly.”
They carefully made their way past remnants of the smoldering tunneler, but soon came to a dead end. Adams approached the wall blocking their path. He ran a gloved hand over the damaged rock then turned to address everyone.
“These tunnelers use a mechanical mouth to grind the stone and ice as they expel acid to melt it. We’ll have a devil of a time blasting through….”
“We have equipment. I’ll go get it and return with a few men to help us. I need to tell them about Lom-Pu as it is,” Korit replied.
DeReaux placed a hand on the Thewl’s forearm. “We all go. We’re a crew.”
They all nodded and made their way back.
Chapter Eight
Jun waited for a moment. Sparks slowly vanished in the darkness as the grinding sound grew fainter. The creature was inching forward, eating new depths into the icy tunnel. After an initial moment of hesitation, Jun whispered.
“We need to strike one at a time. If we stay a few feet apart, I can kneel and fire until the Lokian turns and comes at me. Then, I’ll run behind the rest of you, and the next in line can fire at the creature.”
O’Hara nodded, saying, “If we take turns moving, we should be able to take it out without getting hurt.”
Hurriedly, they spread out when Adams’s voice erupted into their earpieces, talking about Lokians spewing acid to dissolve the rock.
“Oh, my goodness,” Nandesrikahl said.
“Holy fuckin’ crap,” Marty heaved. “We gotta’ watch for that shit.”
“Copy,” O’Hara ground his teeth.
“Ready? I’ll fire,” Jun said, and took a shot.
The green-blue light emitted by his weapon flashed through the corridor. Small bits of ice and rock fell on the crew as the beast at the other end thrashed against constricted space. Running back turned out to be more difficult than the Thewl assumed, so he fired more rounds while back peddling. He stumbled, sliding on the icy ground, but O’Hara was ready; he took a knee, trying to keep his rifle steady.
Scared beyond belief,
the Human realized he wasn’t training. He wasn’t up against anything remotely familiar, and they all stood a chance of dying. The other Thewl’s death choke wormed through his mind.
Flicking his gun light on revealed a mechanical mouth mere yards away. Vicious, metal teeth, spinning in circular destruction drew closer. The Lokian thundered its way forwards, unleashing a deafening clamor. Before the captain popped off a round, ropey tentacles slapped him across the helmet, spider webbing his visor. He tried to scramble back, but another tentacle caught his leg, reeling him towards churning death.
Screaming, and shooting wildly as bullets ricocheted off the stone walls, sending ice everywhere, O’Hara begged for assistance. Martinez wasted no time. He ran to help, when a blast of light filled the tunnel, causing him to falter. Jun had tossed a lighting device, which brought them all to utter dread; O’Hara was dangling by an appendage.
“I gotcha’, Cap!” Marty dropped his weapon to snatch a colossus grenade from his belt, an explosive like claymores made to cling to objects. “Eat this, you son of a bitch!”
He slammed the colossus against the beast’s jaw. Nandesrikahl was right behind, firing at the tentacle. The chitinous appendage slammed O’Hara against the ceiling before the colossus went off. The explosion blew teeth and goo everywhere, covering everything. Muffled sounds of pain slipped from the captain’s mouth as he slid onto his side. Jun and Sura took the forefront, unleashing hot fury into the Lokian’s headless mass. Martinez and Nandesrikahl pulled O’Hara free from friendly fire.
To their amazement, the tunneler charged them by way of tiny, metallic hooks protruding from its undercarriage. Realizing they were still in danger, Marty called a retreat while strategically placing charges along the walls. Stumbling backwards over melted ice and strewn debris, the crew managed to get away.
The explosives finally went off, resulting in a minor quake. Ice and stone peppered the men from overhead. After a final rumble, the damaged corridor collapsed with the tunneler caught in the uproar. It hissed a long, hateful exhale before everything came to a silent standstill.
Continuing their retreat, and fearing a cave in, Jun tried to force them back to the entrance as quickly as possible, but O’Hara was unable to cover ground. The cracked visor had him in a blind panic. He latched on to whoever was in front.
“You are losing life support,” a robotic voice penetrated O’Hara’s ears. The suit monitoring system provided detailed information regarding heart rate, blood pressure, and more, medical jargon. “Temperature dropping. Losing Oxygen. Recommend you return to a safe zone.”
O’Hara fumbled with the oxygen hoses behind his helmet, looking for leaks, not that he was able to find them wearing gauntlets, but his crew pushed him to keep moving.
“My fucking suit,” he gasped. “Shit!”
“Please, Captain, try to remain calm. It’ll take at least fifteen minutes to return to the ship,” Nandesrikahl said.
“We have to move quickly,” Sura added.
****
Swain’s crew didn’t have a chance to enjoy their view for long. The captain’s fight echoed over their comms. seconds after their arrival, leaving them rattled. They exchanged looks of shock, but when Jun contacted the Explorer, Swain spoke.
“Captain, listen to me. It’s Swain. Override your suit stability function, and set it to survival mode. It’ll conserve oxygen, regulate your temperature, and conserve power.”
His information was sufficient to calm the captain. “Override code alpha six beta nine. Engage survival mode. Swain, what should I do about my visor?”
“I don’t know. How bad is it?”
Martinez replied, “It’s not that bad, just spider webbed.”
“Okay, Captain, sounds like you’re okay. If you’re maintaining pressure, you can get back top side without a hitch.”
****
While O’Hara’s battle came to a head, the fourth team was treading much more slowly. They hadn’t come across danger, but hearing the others fight rattled their nerves. Scanning the environment with gun lights, smooth, blue, frozen walls reflected mesmerizing beams.
“Captain, are you hurt,” Day asked.
“Uhh…broken, but not battered,” he said.
“I think you have it backwards,” Franklin laughed.
Ignoring him, he continued, “Having some difficulty moving, but I’ll manage. I want everyone else to be careful, out.”
She took a deep breath. I don’t want anyone else to get hurt, she thought. Becker swished by her to take point.
“Hey,” Day called, “slow down.”
“We should get a move on,” Becker argued. “We know what these things can do.”
Fretting nervously, Day fell back behind the rest. A second later, Franklin slowed. She got scared, and peeked over her shoulder, expecting a rear assault.
“You’ll be fine, Miss Day, I think this hole is clean,” he said.
His words comforted her. She smiled at him, but wasn’t able to see his face. His black suit had him completely covered from head to toe like a space ninja.
Hun-Tan and Un-It, two male Thewls, flanked Becker’s rear, keeping aim above her shoulders. She maintained a fierce gaze, her whiskey mouth pulled tight over her teeth. Her jaw clenched nervously, but she wasn’t about to be outdone by aliens, even if there wasn’t any danger.
Together, they marched in unison for some time. Minutes of tension slogged on. Eventually, a faint light shone through the darkness; there was an opening ahead. Becker jogged to the corridor’s edge.
She perched to have a look below and saw buildings yards away. Her eyes darted about, trying to locate the light source, but all she witnessed was an icy floor, a frozen mist swirling inches above it, and the eerie light wafting around the expanse, creating strange, dazzling patterns across the walls. It was like the place was alive.
Becker peeked backwards when the others approached. Day chastised her for taking off. The pit viper only chortled.
“Captain, we’ve spotted civilization,” Swain said.
“Then, keep going. Maybe, we can all regroup and just come through your hole,” O’Hara replied.
“Heh heh! Your hole,” Zak laughed.
“Really,” Imes asked.
When they quieted down, Korit was heard mentioning a pick up. His intention was to grab a rover, and a new visor for O’Hara, and then make for a different point of entry, one free of Lokians. O’Hara agreed to his plan, so the strike force leader made contact.
****
Once the two, battle worn crews made it to their recovery point, they waited patiently at the edge of the opening for the rover. Ravaging winds blew ice over their heads. Thewlish communications responded.
“Rover here in five, O’Hara,” Korit said.
Five minutes came and went, during which time the captain prodded at the cracks painted across his vision. A black cord suddenly appeared from above. Then, a black helmet poked out; someone had tossed them a line.
By the time they crept from the tunnel, ice had covered the rover’s entirety. Painstakingly fighting the wind’s frozen rage, the crew packed inside the ride to find Korit and his team. An engineer helped to pull the captain’s helmet off. After inspecting his oxygen hoses, he stated that everything was going to be fine.
The alien worked quickly to fit the Human helmet with an energy field. In the interim, the soldiers looked at one another, sharing their horrors. Fitzpatrick joked about Adams’s prowess. O’Hara stated it was no time for a laughing mood.
Moments later, they reached the tunnel where Swain had passed. While everyone made their way back underground, the engineer refueled Korit’s plasma container.
****
Swain’s crew and Becker’s crew were working their way towards each other.
“Look at these buildings. This is amazing,” Zakowski blurted.
“Pull your shit together, Zak; those tunnelers might be around here,” Imes barked.
“Geez, keep your pants on.�
�
“He’s right, Zak,” Franklin said. “It’s likely some have tunneled deeper or returned to the surface, but there might be some here.”
“Where are you guys,” Day asked.
“Everyone, quiet,” Flem said.
Phoenix Crew grew impatient. Meandering about, caught in the mystique of misty, minute buildings—scintillating arrays of sparkling hues contrasted neatly with gray mounds—they glossed over their dreamlike surroundings. Ultimately, they congregated around one structure.
It lacked windows and only stood waist high. It was hard to imagine that the travelers were little people, but Ambassador Weh had not included how big they were in his rendition. Imes circled the building.
He found the door, or what he thought was a door; the panel lacked hinges. Day spotted Swain and Zakowski making their way over. She lifted her rifle above her head. Finally, every member of those two crews joined Imes and his search for an entry.
“How uh…how does it open, and why is the door so big,” he asked.
The convex panel in question was practically the full height of the building. Flem placed a hand on it, and the metal slowly sank into the ground, revealing stairs. It turned out the buildings were just rooves with access to a lower level. Becker raised an eyebrow.
“What happened?” she demanded.
“Vibratory energy is required to open the door,” Flem answered.
“Vibra-who?” Imes snipped.
“Biorhythms,” the alien said.
“Are we going in or what?” Becker snapped.
“Would you guys keep your cool?” O’Hara admonished. “Don’t do anything stupid until we get there.”
“Heh, heard that,” Marty snickered. “Wait for us to get stupid.”
The aliens turned to one another before scrutinizing the Humans. Nothing more was said for a moment, but Becker was dancing on her toes, waiting to explore. Swain was no more composed than she, rubbing his hands together. Day smiled at him.
