by Tobias Wade
“There are four of us awake, plus two who aren’t up yet,” Sali countered. “Can we at least take them with us? We probably won’t have to carry them long before their body temperature rises enough for them to wake.”
“Don’t ask him for permission,” Eisen chided, assisting Sali in lifting one of the bodies from the pod. “I wouldn’t normally side with a Cyber over an Outlander, but I know right when I see it.”
Harris hesitated, stepping back from the corridor when it became clear no one else was following him.
“If there really are other prisoners or Masks roaming the ship, then the more people we have on our team, the better,” Elden reasoned. “We shouldn’t leave anyone behind.”
“Or because they’re human beings who need our help in an emergency,” Eisen scolded.
Sali was struggling to support an unconscious dark skinned young man barely older than a boy. Harris snatched the deadweight from her and swung the body around his shoulders in a practiced and balanced motion. The young man was terribly thin, and his knees and elbows clattered together roughly like dry sticks as Harris marched into the corridor. Harris turned confidently to the left without slowing.
“Hey, wait, other way!” Sali called. “The Galactic Express is a bifurcated thruster model with a centralized docking mechanism. We must be above one of the thrusters based on the vibrations, and the even numbered room panels puts us on the left side of the ship. That means we need to turn right to reach the escape craft.”
Harris pivoted and marched wordlessly in the opposite direction. Elden tried to swing the second unconscious body over his shoulders in a mimicked motion, but he immediately overbalanced and tumbled to the ground. This one was larger, a polar bear of a man with a bristling white beard like a hedgehog on a bad hair day. By the time Sali and Eisen helped support the body from either side, Harris had already disappeared around the far corner.
“How do you know so much about the ship?” Elden asked Sali as they lugged the weight. “Do you have information about all the Humanist vessels installed in your… whatever?”
“I’m going to install something in your whatever if you don’t pull your weight. That cowboy looks like he is pushing sixty—you’ve got no excuse not to keep up.”
“Not a cowboy!” boomed around the corner.
Elden wasn’t a quitter, firmly believing that if you couldn’t find an excuse for something, you simply weren’t trying hard enough. He didn’t have to look far before the excuse found him, however, as the floor began to buckle beneath their feet. The impact was powerful enough for several of the metal panels to rip loose from the ground and reveal a mess of wires like the noodles of a mad scientist. The strain of metal on metal groaned throughout the ship, grinding at last to an ill-tempered stillness. The alarm was still going, but something was missing that had been there a moment before.
“The vibrations stopped,” Sali breathed.
“The engines,” Elden inferred. “Any idea what’s going on out there?”
“Asteroids, maybe. Probably not. The computer shouldn’t allow navigation anywhere near something big enough to do structural damage. The Masks wouldn’t have left the ship if we were in an asteroid belt anyway. If I had to guess, I’d say something deliberate was going on. Something human.”
They found Harris crouched against the wall around the corner. Harris hadn’t seemed exerted from his load, but his face was still strained and pale.
“Want to try another guess about what attacked the ship?” he asked hoarsely, barely above a whisper.
The corridor ahead converged on a narrow metal bridge which extended over a large storeroom filled with wooden crates. Something the size of house cat was moving along the underside of the bridge, little more than a shadow scuttling along on dozens of tiny legs. Red light from an overhead alarm illuminated the area with periodic flashes, the light reflecting from its four beady yellow eyes. A first impression was all they got; the creature swiftly released the bottom of the bridge to disappear between the crates below.
“A service droid, maybe?” Eisen whispered in an unconvincing voice.
“Yeah? Would you buy a vacuum that looked like the Devil’s cockroach?” Sali asked.
“Not personally, but it’s not hard to imagine that the type of person to build a space prison would also have some pretty twisted taste in droids.”
“The Galactic Express isn’t a space prison,” Sali explained. “It’s a long range exploration craft, which is why they’re equipped with cryogenic sleeping pods. It’s typically occupied by the famously brave, or in this case, I’m assuming the enormously disposable.”
“I’d rather not be having this conversation at all, but if we have to, then I’d rather be having it in the escape pod,” Harris said. “Don’t stop now—last one over the bridge is alien food.”
“Don’t even joke about that,” Eisen snapped, stooping to drag the large slumbering man once more.
“It definitely didn’t look like a droid,” Sali mused as they set foot on the bridge.
“What are you even suggesting?” Eisen asked, her voice tense and irritated. “You think an undiscovered life form just hopped off its planet, swam through the emptiness of space, then burrowed through a steel wall to hitch a ride? Honey, you’re going to need to get your software checked when we get home.”
“Don’t honey me—that’s your theory, not mine. It could have been a stowaway, something that was hidden in the supplies before we launched. Then it got out and started causing trouble while everyone was in stasis for the journey.”
“Whatever you need to tell yourselves, ladies,” Harris grunted beneath his load. “Just keep moving and don’t look down.”
Elden made it halfway across the metal bridge when a shift in his periphery compelled him to look over the side. His legs abruptly decided they were walking in the wrong direction and got into a fight with his knees about it. This caused his legs to bow out in a way that would have earned a single raised eyebrow of approval from a ballerina, if only he had intended for his legs to do that. Sali and Eisen peered over the side while waiting for Elden to regain his footing. Their breath caught in their throats. Harris chuckled with the sort of dark humor one might reserve for witnessing someone accidentally performing the splits during a horrendous accident.
The floor of the storeroom below churned with a sea of writhing black bodies dotted with constellations of beady yellow eyes. Hundreds of the scurrying creatures tore their way through the boxes and into the walls, teeming over one another to rip at the noodle-like wiring underneath. They moved with uncanny synchronization like a swarm of insects as they infested the ruinous mess they were creating.
“Wahh! Get them away from me!”
The large man Elden and the women were supporting was suddenly awake, going straight from a dream into a nightmare. He bucked powerfully in their arms, ripping himself free from their hold as he tumbled onto the metal bridge. His thrashing caused him to land with a rattling crash, and the echoes from his shouts rebounded and amplified in the enclosed space. A moment later and he’d shakily regained his footing, but the mad panic of his awakening still reflected in his stretched and quivering eyes.
“Hey careful—don’t rock the bridge! Calm down, we’re trying to get you out of here,” Eisen hissed, massaging her strained arms.
“I said keep walking!” Harris barked from the far end of the bridge.
A tense silence fell between the commotion and the blaring alarm. The quiet was broken by the clattering of thousands of tiny legs on metal. The creatures were coming up all four walls around them. The bridge trembled again as more of the creatures leapt onto the underside, and a scurrying motion from above revealed the thick infestation on the ceiling. Their insectoid heads swiveled in unsettling unison up to 180 degrees as their full attention locked on the humans.
“Scratch that, better run,” Harris shouted.
Suddenly taking orders didn’t seem nearly as detrimental to their collective
pride. The bridge swayed treacherously beneath their feet as they bolted for the other side. The scuttling of tiny legs turned into an avalanche as the creatures surged after them in hot pursuit. Those on the ceiling began to drop, pivoting their bodies in midair to direct their needle legs downward in a terrifying black rain.
The sprint carried the passengers from the room into a large square chamber illuminated in a harsh white light. One of the walls was entirely made of glass, through which a clear view of the endless cosmos and a looming green planet appeared. Positioned along one side of the room were four round escape pods tethered to the wall by a collection of hoses and wires. Harris was already halfway across the floor, still carrying the remaining unconscious young man across his shoulders.
“Hatachi Escape Pods,” Sali said at once. “Fits three, ion propulsion, manual steering, about a tenth of a parsec range. We can all reach the planet from here.”
“How do you open them?” Harris shouted across the room.
“Wait—all the docks are still occupied,” Eisen cut in.
“So?” Harris set the body down and began roughly exploring the pod’s exterior with his hands.
“So… Sali said this ship was a bifurcated…”
“Bifurcated thruster model. Symmetrical across the vertical axis.”
“Exactly. So there were more people in stasis on the other side, right?” Eisen pressed.
“You wouldn’t need a ship the size of the Galactic Express for only six people. You’re probably right,” Sali admitted.
“Why is the Universe being so mean today?” the newly awakened man pondered. He spoke slowly, each word careful and measured as a chess move when he didn’t know all the rules. The man wasn’t just broad and tall, but also possessed a certain squareness that made it seem like he might become perfectly wedged in any doorway he tried to walk through. His nameplate read Ramnus Orwell.
Sali quickly recounted to Ramnus what they’d inferred while the group caught up with Harris by the far wall. Harris must have found the right panel, because the glass front of one of the pods lifted with a hiss of steam. The interior was cramped amid the electronic arrays, with only three narrow stools on which to perch. Harris began loading the unconscious body into one immediately.
“Well?” Eisen demanded impatiently. “Where are the others who were in stasis? We can’t just leave them sleeping.”
“We made it out,” Harris grunted. “Why shouldn’t they?”
“It wasn’t a given that we’d wakeup at all,” Eisen shot back. “I was in such a deep sleep that I don’t think I’d have a chance if Sali hadn’t pulled me from that cryogenic soup. You saw how much of a mess those buggers are making of the ship. How much longer do you think the others have before it receives critical damage?”
Sali closed her eyes and furrowed her brow in concentration. A soft blue light shone through her temples for a moment as she thought.
“The bridge is the only path connecting the docking station with the sleeping chambers,” Sali said. “You’d have to cross over again to reach the others.”
“We have to,” Eisen stressed. “Come on, it’ll only take a couple minutes. The buggers might not even be dangerous.”
“Then we’re about to find out,” Elden said. “A few of them followed us here.”
‘A few’ might have been a tad on the optimistic side. Masses of the scuttling dark shapes were creeping into the room with each passing second. They spread out to clamber up the walls and onto the ceiling, moving precisely like soldiers in formation making room for others to take their place. Ramnus stood protectively in front of the two women with his arms crossed, looking like a stalwart bouncer who was not only prepared to put an end to a trouble maker’s evening, but also evict them from life entirely.
Harris tossed an orange bundle at Eisen from the pod and she caught it reflexively. It unfurled in her hands to reveal a heavily padded space suit, minus the helmet.
“This might offer some protection, but I wouldn’t count on it after seeing what they did to the walls,” Harris said. “Good luck out there.”
“Come now, Eisen, let’s be reasonable,” Elden implored, using the voice of someone trying to convince a toddler not to jump from the roof. “We don’t even know for sure that there are other prisoners. We have our ticket out, and we might not get another chance.”
“I’m going back for them,” Eisen replied in a steely voice.
“There’s no way you’re sending her back alone,” Sali said with disdain. “Either all of us go, or none of us do.”
Eisen was already putting on the padded suit though, her back to the others in a gesture of haughty defiance.
“Sali is right,” Ramnus spoke gravely. “Splitting up is bad. They’re just a bunch of random criminals, aren’t they?”
“You’re a random criminal,” Eisen snapped, flushing brightly as she turned on them. “We can help them if we try. Why are you all being so selfish?”
“If you want to be mad at someone, be mad at the Humanists who launched us,” Elden said gently, moderating his voice to sound just compassionate enough to show he was a good person, while not quite compassionate enough to suggest he was going to help. “I’ve got a wife to get back to. None of us signed up for this. It’s not our job to save anyone.”
The buggers had almost completely filled the entrance to the corridor. They seemed averse toward the harsh light in this room, and they remained in the shadows along the wall. Eisen’s shoulders heaved as she took a deep breath.
“I’ve got a family too,” she said softly. “A little boy—or at least he was, twelve years ago. I don’t know if he even remembers me, but I remember him. Don’t you think the other people in stasis have families that are waiting for them too? Having people you care about isn’t an excuse not to help others—it’s the reason you should care. You know how bad it hurts to have someone count on you, or to count on someone who isn’t there. If I make it back, I’m still going to do everything I can to make sure you find your loved ones again too.”
“Eisen, wait—” Elden began, but she was already jogging back toward the corridor.
“You’ve got fifteen minutes, missy. Then we launch,” Harris interrupted. “Don’t be late.”
They watched in silence, each waging an internal battle as Eisen leapt over the first buggers to charge back the way they came. The creature’s heads turned in unison, tracking her with their yellow eyes. From the sides—from the walls—from the floor—scuttling waves closed ranks behind her to block her retreat. Soon the squirming bodies were pressed in so thickly that Eisen wouldn’t be visible even if she was standing on the bridge. Then the heads turned again, those glinting yellow lights focused on the other humans once more. No sound marked Eisen’s passage besides the ceaseless droning of the alarm.
“Maybe she was right about them being droids,” Sali said uneasily. “I’ve never heard of a living creature acting like that.”
“Do you think she’ll be okay?” Elden asked.
“Not really,” Harris replied, picking at his teeth with a fingernail. “I don’t expect being eaten by buggers is much worse than being stranded on an alien planet though.”
“Don’t even talk,” Sali said, her voice tense and low. “You men should all be ashamed of yourselves.”
Harris shrugged stiffly. “Not our fault she’s got a savior complex. You didn’t go back either—you ought to be just as ashamed.”
“I am. Trust me.”
“They’re moving again.” Elden gestured at the buggers creeping farther into the room. “I think they’re getting used to the light.”
“Everybody in the pods,” Harris ordered. “We might as well be ready to launch the moment Eisen gets back.”
“And if she doesn’t?” Ramnus asked.
“Fifteen minutes, or when the buggers start moving in. Whichever comes first.”
“The least we can do is wait for her. Who made you the boss, anyway?” Sali asked.
“Fa
te and your good fortune, that’s who,” Harris replied, his chest swelling as though he’d swallowed a balloon. “I used to be the captain of my own elegant vessel, the mighty Ship Happens. I’m no stranger to danger, and have safely navigated everything from solar flares to quasars to space pirates. I know exactly what I’m doing.”
“I bet you were the space pirate,” Sali grumbled.
“I don’t think I’ve ever met my good fortune,” Ramnus sighed, squeezing his way into the second pod beside Sali. “How do you think Eisen’s luck is holding out?”
A thin, shrill scream erupted from the corridor that froze the blood of all who heard it. As if on cue, the swarming creatures began flooding into the room, spreading evenly across every open surface. The clattering of tiny claws on the metal sounded like a torrential rain on a tin roof.
“That’s it. We’re out of here.” Harris Johnson smashed a button and the glass door of his pod door slid down into the locked position.
Elden shifted from one foot to the other, stretching to get a clear view to the bridge beyond. Sali’s firm hand on the back of his jumpsuit hauled him into her pod.
“Don’t worry—we’re not leaving Eisen yet,” Sali reassured him.
Elden didn’t require much prompting. The truth was that he couldn’t have been more relieved to climb into the pod, and likely would have left every last one of them if he thought he could pilot his own craft. It wasn’t that he was selfish, it’s just that he was so hopelessly inept on his own that anyone he tried to help typically ended up worse off than they had before. It’s not that he didn’t try his best, Amore had liked to remind him, it was just that his best was no good. That’s not to say that Elden was a slow thinker; if anything, he thought much too quickly about all the wrong things. The fact that he was now thinking about which things he shouldn’t be thinking about during an emergency, during an emergency, was evidence enough that he would be doing his part by simply not getting in anyone else’s way.
“Let’s see how these buggers handle the airlock opening,” Sali said, much more practically.
