The Helix
Lost Contact
David Viergutz
Contents
Foreword
Amanda
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Foreword
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David Viergutz
Amanda
“Close the bulkhead. Close it now!” yelled Captain Martin Scalden.
“Jesus Christ, did you see that thing? It ripped the console apart!” replied Lieutenant Derek Shovers.
“What about the captain?”
“Did you see what it was wearing? That was the captain, you idiot!” Derek snapped.
“No, I didn’t. But what good are security forces on a rescue mission if you can’t provide security?”
“Would you two morons stop fighting? We need to get off this planet!” Flight Officer Amanda Dawn snarled at the two astronauts, Captain Martin Scalden and Lieutenant Derek Shovers.
Derek looked at Martin. He had a point. Derek had been assigned as security to the mission, but when that creature came out of the captain’s quarters, he turned and ran. He hadn’t even unholstered his weapon.
“What do we do? How are we going to fly this thing?” Derek asked, scanning the room, as if the answers to their troubles were there.
“We aren’t gonna fly shit. We need the cosmonaut. Are any of you fluent in Russian?”
“I speak a little,” Amanda said.
A klaxon alarm whined in the background and the lighting about the ship shifted from dull fluorescent to an emergency red. Orbital decay! Orbital decay! the alarm sounded.
“Damn.”
Amanda strode over to a small console built into the wall near the door and began pressing the keys, pulling up the ship’s messages and attempting to decipher some basic commands.
“Martin, you were here first. Tell me what you know,” Amanda said without looking up.
Martin peered out through the porthole in the door, scanning the area. The red light faded in and out. “I was assigned to the station on Magnus Prime. We received a distress signal from the Russians on the station, but before we could dock, we got a reading from this ship and they sent me in a decay-pod. They were going to pick me up later.”
“So you aren’t a captain? Can you fly at all?”
“On Magnus it is only a rank. I suppose for you all, it is a designator. I’m an engineer.”
Martin’s blue flight suit resembled a pilot’s. A patch with a hammer and anvil was stitched in place of wings. He was tall and heavyset with dark skin and even darker eyes.
“I hate those decay-pods. Since when are one-way ships useful?”
“They’re quick, and the signal we received wasn’t a critical malfunction. Just radios. Pretty typical this close to Magnus. Our planet causes all kinds of hell. What about you?”
Amanda pressed the keys and leaned in closer. The green-lit screen reflected on her face. “I was nearby as well, but we never received a message from Magnus about them responding to the Russians. We didn’t think they had anyone in orbit, so it was a surprise. I was stationed on Opus Prime, the second moon around Magnus.”
“What about your ship?”
Amanda shook her head. Her short black hair swung side to side. It was cut at an upward angle, longer in the front. It draped across her face and hid her high cheekbones.
“My shuttle is in orbit nearby. Even if we could call it, this ship is in a decaying orbit and it wouldn’t know where to go. Once we fix our orbit, we can call it to us. What about you, Derek?”
“My ship is somewhere in deep space at this point. I was doing a scheduled space walk with a cosmonaut to look at his sun array. He locked me out of the airlock hours ago. Next thing I know, my ship is jettisoned. Luckily, I was able to get back inside using the umbilical. I ran into that thing in the captain’s quarters, hoping to beat the hell out of his cosmo. That thing chased me through the ship until you guys found me.”
Derek, an American astronaut with a boyish face, a military haircut, and striking green eyes, wore a black flightsuit with an American flag patch. Two crossed swords identified him as a security expert.
“What was a soldier doing on a space walk?” Amanda stopped typing to look him over.
“I’m dual purpose. Security and communications. Why send one when you can send one and a half? I’ve been here a few days and there hasn’t been anything out of the ordinary.”
Martin scoffed. “Americans. Why send an expert when you can send half an expert, right? Did you get half the array fixed?”
“Yeah, like Magnus has produced shit that worked. I’m surprised you backwater bottom feeders could get anything to fly at all.”
The klaxon alarm faded and Amanda slammed the console shut. “Pulla. I can’t get past the login. We need the cosmonaut. Alarms off for now, but the main power has been diverted to the engines. They’re keeping us from crashing, but not for long.”
“Even if we had the cosmonaut, what do you expect him to do?” Derek plopped down on the bunk next to Martin, who slid over to the other side of the bed. “That thing tore the bridge apart.”
“We just need to get a signal to my ship, The Helix. We can do that via the emergency communication panel in the captain’s quarters. Every ship has one in case of mutiny. We’ll have The Helix match our orbit and space walk to it. Let this ship and that thing burn up upon entry to Magnus.”
This time it was Derek who spoke; his voice cracking with concern. “You want to space walk in a decaying orbit? You know your ship won’t be able to match our pitch, right?”
“I saw a satellite bay on my way over here. It’s loaded with supplies, and I think I saw a few Velo-Paks.”
Derek forced a hollow laugh. “Velo-Paks? Seriously? Why not just jettison us into deep space instead? Those things are a suicide mission.”
Derek had a point. Velo-Paks were personal propulsion devices but largely ignored by flight teams across pilots on Earth and Magnus Prime. They were rushed through testing as space flight went commercial and were largely seen as a check-box on corporate flight insurance. When they worked, they did so a little overzealously, preferring to send the wearer careening off into space.
Amanda smiled mischievously. “The Velo-Paks aren’t for us. We can attach them to the sides of the ship, time the bursts to stop the pitch-roll, and get us out of this orbit. Then the space walk to my ship will be easy.”
“Nothing is easy in space.” Derek sighed. “Do any of you want to help me with just one thing? When are we going to talk about the captain? What the hell happened to him? Some kind of virus?”
“What kind of pulla virus gives someone tentacles, makes them rip their own face off, and gives them superhuman strength?” Martin said what the others were thinking. They weren’t trapped in the crew quarters; they were attempting to protect themselves. Amanda was last to arrive, and the captain--that creature--was waiting for her in the air lock. She ran blindly through the ship and only stopped at the back of the ship near the crew bunks. Luckily, Derek and Martin were there waiting. They were out of breath and just as confused as she.
Amanda turned her back to the door to address the others, hoping to keep their nerves in check. For a soldier, Martin seemed skittish.
“What about the cosmonaut?”
Derek shook his head. “I haven’t seen him since he locked me out. I bet that thing got to hi
m.”
“We can’t assume he’s gone. Look.” Amanda pulled the keyboard away from the console and pointed at a chart showing three bars, each one a different length. “I don’t need to read Russian to know what these are; oxygen, carbon dioxide, and hydrogen. All three levels are dropping, meaning there’s a leak. We need to fix the leak to give us more time, then use the Velo-Paks to adjust our orbit long enough to line up.”
“And the captain?” Martin looked at Derek this time and Derek fingered his weapon.
“If you’re asking me to shoot it, I did twice after it threw a console at me. I ran until I couldn’t anymore.”
“Did you see the Russian on the way?”
“No.”
“What about you, Amanda?” Derek asked.
“No. If he’s smart, he’d barricade too. Hold on. Let me check something.”
Amanda turned and pecked at the keyboard again. The computer beeped twice. “Aha. Look. Here’s where we are. Here’s the captain’s quarters at the front of the ship, just off the bridge.”
Derek and Martin stood up and peered over her shoulder. On the screen was the ship’s layout. It was divided into three parts. Engine bay with crew rooms, storage and the central hall, and the bridge with the captain’s quarters. It was the Russian equivalent of a Bora Bora, an island ship, capable of long distance space travel before needing refueling. Many of the parts used were common on Earth, which explained sending an American communication expert to fix a Russian ship.
“Look. See this moving dot? That’s a bio life scanner. See that?” She pointed to another dot in one of the storage compartments in the middle of the ship. “That’s another life form. It hasn’t moved. I think the cosmonaut trapped the captain there.”
Derek backed away. “All I see are two dots. We’ve got a fifty-fifty shot the thing is there. Did you see a porthole? There’s no way to check without opening the door. We still need the Velo-Paks that are in there with either the captain or the Russian. So who’s gonna check?”
Amanda and Martin instinctively looked toward Derek. Derek looked behind himself. “Oh, c’mon. This is dumb. Just because I have a gun, right?”
“Well, you’re security forces, aren’t you? You have training and experience.”
“I’ve been out of boot camp for three weeks. I got assigned to this mission because it was supposed to be a cakewalk.” He made air quotes with his fingers.
“Interesting,” Martin said.
“What is?”
“My commander used the same term. Cakewalk isn’t something we say on Magnus. What about you, Amanda?”
“We don’t use the term on Opus Prime, either. But my supervisor said it. This is concerning.”
“What is?” Derek asked.
“Two planets, one moon, three nations. All with the same notification.”
“What do you think it means?”
Amanda stopped, as if choosing her words carefully. “I don’t think they sent us all by accident.”
“What do you mean?”
“It means I think there’s a commonality between us. We just need to find it.”
The three sat in silence, pondering for a moment before a furious pounding drove them to their feet and against the back wall of the room. A man’s voice came from the other side of the door. Amanda ran back to the porthole and peered through.
“It’s the Russian! Open the door!” she blurted.
The man’s face was coated in blood; his blue eyes wide with panic. Though he was screaming and she could only understand every few words, his message was obvious. Open. Please. Monster. Coming.
“Derek! Martin! One of you, open the door! It’s just him. C’mon!”
Derek was frozen; his eyes wide. One hand rested on his pistol and the other on the wall behind him. Martin rushed to the console.
“I don’t speak Russian, Amanda! You need to do this!”
Amanda forced herself away from the door, resulting in the Russian yelling even louder, his hands smearing blood over the window, obscuring the view.
“Jesus! This dude is really messed up. Hurry, Amanda!”
“I’m trying, but I’m locked out! What the hell did you do?”
“Nothing! The door closed on its own when I came through.”
“You must have done something, because it’s not opening. There must be an override. Hold on.”
“Tell that to the Russian! Oh my god!”
The Russian stopped screaming. Amanda heard Martin gasp.
“What is that? What the fuck is that? Run! Run, man! Don’t stay there.”
Amanda ignored him, furiously pecking away at the keyboard, attempting to override the door lock. It was tedious. She tried one option after the next, having exhausted the extent of her Russian knowledge. Sweat formed on her forehead and dripped onto the keys, her hair plastered to her face.
In her peripheral vision, she caught Derek stalking towards the window, gaining the courage to look. Something inhumane growled deep and throaty from the other side of the door. At first, Amanda thought it was the Russian, but as she listened closer, she heard multiple tones layered together, like a chorus of people howling in agony. Still, Derek and Martin pressed their faces to the glass, unable to look away.
Something howled again, obviously closer. “Run, man. Run.” Martin whispered.
“Don’t touch the fuckin’ door!” Derek screamed.
Amanda’s hand hovered over the enter button. Something that sounded like a branch snapping and an enormous thump that shook the ship walls caused Amanda to wince. Her finger dropped, pressing the key before she could stop.
The door hissed open and tucked into the ceiling. Derek and Martin ran for the opposite end of the room and Amanda pounded the button, hoping to end the command, and quickly shut the door. It was frozen, the command forcing the door open and holding it there. Her heart dropped. There was nothing to stop the creature from getting at them. Derek and Martin pressed their faces against the metal walls like frightened children.
Amanda held her breath, sweat dripping down her back and soaking her undershirt. The sound of her heartbeat filled her ears. The red emergency light continued to pulse outside the room, leaving it dark one moment and dull blood-red the next. Still, Amanda waited with building angst for the creature to enter the room, expecting tentacles, teeth, and awful howling. Derek whimpered from the corner. But there was nothing. Nothing crept towards them out of the dark. All was silent.
It took all of Amanda’s willpower to divert her eyes from the door to look at Martin and Derek. She exhaled and allowed herself to relax a bit.
“Psst. Can you see?”
Martin shook his head. Derek whimpered.
Amanda drew in another breath, forcing air into her aching lungs. She backed along the wall until she could get an angle on the door and inched around the corner to peer down the hall. She froze. A trail of blood led from the doorway down the hall and around the corner at the end. Halfway down the hall was a human hand, and a little farther were bits of flesh.
The klaxon alarm started again; this time, echoing loudly through the hall, and making the three of them jump. Orbital decay!
Terminal limits in t-minus ten minutes.
“We need to go! We need to call The Helix! Let’s go!”
Without waiting to see if the others were behind her, Amanda took off at a run. She didn’t need them to fly The Helix or activate the Velo-Paks; she was capable. She made it to the bend and stopped. Two sets of footsteps ran up behind her. Derek and Martin soon pressed up next to her. She peaked around the corner and pulled back. The blood trail continued around to another blind corner. The alarm blared overhead and echoed off the metal walls.
“Around the corner is the storage section of the ship, then one more hall for the bridge!” she yelled.
It was useless trying to be quiet, because whatever waited knew they were there. A hand pressed her shoulder and another gripped her elbow, drawing strength from each other’s presence and
Amanda’s courage. One step at a time, she thought. Send the coordinates for The Helix. Then get to the Velo-Paks. The alarm sounded again.
Terminal limits in t-minus eight minutes.
That was enough for Amanda. She took off in a dead sprint, pushing herself as fast as she could go, her boots pounding on metal. Every few footfalls the red light faded, casting them in and out of darkness. Each time, Amanda pushed herself a little faster. Darkness again, then light, and something was there.
She screamed and still forced herself to run. It was there. The captain, or what he had become, stood in their way. His upper body appeared to have been skinned away, leaving rippling, bloody muscle. Pale grey tendrils sprouted from his elbows, mouth, eyes, and nose. When the thing howled, the world shook and Amanda was thrown off balance. Then there was darkness and silence, then light again, and the creature was gone, leaving only a bloody trail in an empty hallway.
Amanda made it to the end of the hall and turned left, colliding with the far wall and bruising her shoulder. No longer brave, she barreled forward without forethought, driven only by terror; the image of the monster imprinted on her memory. It was there. Every time the light faded, it disappeared, then reappeared with the alarm. Unaware if the others were behind her, she plowed down the hall, passing identical bulkhead doors, catching glimpses of space outside the ship. The craft was tilted toward Magnus Prime, the red and orange planet and its sandy surface giving some light to the interior of the Russian space shuttle.
Terminal limits in t-minus six minutes.
The bridge came into view. Sparks flew from a ruined control panel in the middle of the room and the emergency lighting was constant. The light gave her hope and lifted her spirits. She was close. Just around the bend was the captain’s quarters and the panel to call for her ship. It was a single red button near the top of the keyboard. Every ship had one, even this Russian piece of pulla. She played it over in her head as she ran. She envisioned herself running into the room, smashing the button and immediately turning back towards the storage bay. She had time. The Helix was quick.
The Helix: Lost Contact Page 1
