by M. D. Cooper
“What in stars name was that? Was that you, Vermillion?”
“You’ll find it’s easier to just listen to me.” It was a good thing Vermillion said the last part internally because she was pretty sure otherwise she would not have heard it through the reverb still ringing in her ears.
“That’s assault. You ruined my eardrums. What is wrong with you?”
“Don’t be a big baby. There’s no more damage there than a kick-butt rock concert would have done. Besides, any damage is only temporary.”
Zenith managed to get to a standing position and breathed. Everything seemed to be getting back to normal now.
“Hey, Zenith!” Helo’s voice said over the ship’s console speaker from the next room. She could barely hear it. “You need to come and see this. It’s awesome.”
“I recommend that you get your suit.”
Zenith shook her head and decided to comply. “Ok, Vermillion, but this isn’t over.” It only wasn’t over in that she intended to further complain about it later, but it was clear that she had no choice. She got her suit on and exited Vermillion.
She stomped over to where the rest of the crew was bending over a crater. “That crazy ship assaulted me.” It occurred to her that what Vermillion had done was roughly the equivalent of flicking the ear of an annoying child.
“What’d she do now?” Celeste asked. “Was it the jolt of electricity? The annoying singing? The ear busting tone? Or the—”
Helo got Zenith’s attention and pointed at his space suit’s helmet before Zenith could reply. “Speakers. The speakers in our helmets are attached to the ship. She can hear everything you say. Whatever you’re thinking right now should probably stay in your head.”
Zenith’s shoulders slumped. She decided to take his advice as her ears were still slightly ringing. She looked around. It looked like a typical moon, and there didn’t seem to be anything strange around, so that was good. Celeste pointed into the crater. “Look, Zenith. We found it! That means I guessed the correct answer.”
Zenith had to admit the excitement out here was contagious. She got down on one knee and peered into the hole. “So there was a clue on the map that led you out into the middle of this barren comet to this exact crater?” She had to admit, that was pretty impressive.
“Well, the last part of the clue is always a pair of coordinates. I guess in that respect it’s kind of like a geocache.”
That got Zenith excited, thinking about all of the times she had gone geocaching as a kid. The thrill of the hunt, and the promise of treasure at the end, no matter how small, never got old. Maybe she had been too hard on them trying to do the same thing, only theirs was extremely dangerous and corporate-sponsored. She remembered the old backpack she used to take with her full of old useless junk that she would exchange with the new useless junk she would find in the cache.
“Hey, the crater’s mouth is in the shape of Arcturis City,” Helo said.
Zenith stood up and took a few steps back. “Look at that, you’re right.” She knelt back down. “You figured out the clue, followed the coordinates to this exact spot, and inside was some sort of box?”
“Yeah,” said Celeste, picking it up with an antenna. “It’s just a small box. That’s all it ever is, but that’s not the exciting part. The exciting part is where you scan the box to get the next clue.” She held the scanner in her hand. There was a beeping noise, and then Helo confirmed that it had registered on the map. Zenith couldn’t help but marvel at the nifty use of technology with a fun twist.
“I get it. It’s like a deep space geocache. Clever. You scan it and place it right back in its hiding spot, for the slower people to find, right?” Zenith asked, tongue in cheek.
“Of course. Why would we need it after we got the information? Only a jerk would take it and spoil all the fun,” Celeste answered.
“Okay, yes,” said Zenith, holding up her hands, “I was just checking. Can I see it?”
Celeste handed her the box. It was small and brown with light blue symbols and markings on it. “Are all the boxes marked up like this?”
“What?” Celeste asked. “I don’t really look at them, I just scan them and start working on the next clue. Now that you mention it, this one looks more decorative than the ones we usually find. I think.”
Zenith turned the decorative box over in her hands, continuing to look it over. The others turned to head back to Vermillion. The box made a slight rattling sound as she moved it. She shook the box, inspecting it even closer, and a small gem fell out.
The gem was smaller in size than an egg. It had the same strange, decorative markings as the outside of the box. Zenith picked it up. Even through her space suit gloves, she could tell that it was smooth and pretty. She liked it instantly. In fact, it looked like the electronics disrupter toys she used to play with as a teenager.
“Celeste, did you say that all you have to do is scan the box?” Zenith asked Celeste through her helmet.
“Yes. Now put it back so that other people can use it. And get back here, we’re already setting coordinates for the customer service call. That’s what you’ve been waiting for, right?”
“Yeah. Okay. I’ll put it back.” There was no way to tell from the outside of the box that it had been opened, and by the weight of it, oddly enough, it was unclear that it was missing anything.
She palmed the small stone, figuring that it was probably a geocache and that if she treated it as such, there would be no harm in it. But what would she replace the stone with? The protocol for geocaching consisted of replacing the object you take with something else, something you had on your person.
She felt around in her pockets. The patches. There was a drawer full of fun, official-looking space patches in the bedroom she now shared with Celeste. They were a pretty red color with a blue triangle and a black dot in the middle. There was also some writing on it, but she hadn’t been able to make it out. The patches were in her bedroom, though, so she had taken one as a souvenir. She pulled it out of her pocket now and placed the patch in the box and put the box back in the crater.
“Coming,” she called out. She looked around the moon one more time, seeing nothing but beautiful stars and peace. Maybe this part of space wasn’t so bad after all.
Chapter 4
The crew went back to their time-wasting preferences of choice in the common room. Several hours later, a new alarm chimed at the bridge. This one was unfamiliar to Zenith, who looked up from her reading. By the looks on their faces, it was unfamiliar to the other members of the crew as well.
“What’s going on?” Zenith asked them.
Helo looked like he had just woken from a nap. He narrowed his eyes at Zenith. “What are you reading, there?” He got closer and squinted at the book in her hand. “Best of the stupid things that happen all the time in the cosmos, eh?” He shook his head. “Nice try, Zenith.” He grabbed the book underneath to reveal that she was really reading the manual inside of the cooler looking book. “I knew it.”
“Give it back,” Zenith said, “we’re getting closer to the job. And besides, isn’t anybody going to check out that alarm? Because if you don’t, I will. And I don’t think you want that.”
“You’re right. I don’t.” He tossed the book onto the table and turned to go toward the bridge. Aquillon followed him. Zenith retrieved her book and followed them, curiosity getting the better of her.
Helo pushed the alarm button and started tapping on the console trying to figure out what it was.
Aquillon reached over and grabbed his club hopefully, then turned to Helo. “Am I gonna need this?”
“I don’t know,” said Helo, “this isn’t the ship’s alarm. And it’s not mine. Somebody else set this one, and I don’t know what it’s for.” Helo and Aquillon looked at each other. “If it’s not Vermillion and it’s not you and me, then it has to be Celeste. I doubt Zenith knows how to set any alarms yet, although she will soon if she keeps reading all of the stupid manuals.”
They stomped back into the common room, ignoring her. She continued to follow them around.
“Celeste!” They said, together. Then they turned to each other.
“Shouldn’t you have stayed at the console?” Aquillon demanded, looking at Helo, “what happens when she tells us what it’s for? We just run back, then, don’t we?”
“What do you morons want now? I’m busy,” Celeste said.
“There’s an alarm going off on the console,” Aquillon said, “and we didn’t set it. What’re you up to? And what’s coming for us that we don’t know about?”
Fear rippled across Celeste’s face.
“Code one, Celeste,” Vermillion’s voice boomed over the loud speaker.
“What is it this time?” Helo asked, more insistently this time, “why the alarm? And why the code one?”
Celeste didn’t answer, she looked like she was starting to go into shock.
“Hey, Celeste, are you okay? What’s a code one?” Zenith asked.
“Celeste, what’s the alarm for?” Helo asked testily.
“Spiders, ok?” Celeste said. She snapped out of it and ran toward the bridge. “I set it to let us know if we ever picked up any giant space spiders, you know, roaming around off the map. I set that alarm so long ago that I forgot about it.”
A primal fear swirled around Zenith’s insides. She had picked a bad day to start picking up on Celeste’s facial expressions because even if her reaction to spiders hadn’t kicked in, the look of fear on Celeste’s face would have made it happen anyway. And she had no idea that giant space spiders even existed or that they were to be avoided in deep space travel. The whole thing just seemed wrong.
“What’s a code one?” Zenith asked again.
A clear, calm voice inside her head said. “Zenith. A code one means fear.” It was Vermillion. Not on the loudspeaker, but in a little voice inside her head. Like last night. It shook her to her core. Again. Vermillion’s ability to monitor the vital statistics and personal digital information of the crew was just creepy.
“You’re getting pretty close to a code one right now yourself,” Vermillion chimed in her head.
Zenith froze. It was a lot to take in. Did Vermillion have the same relationship with all of the crew? Or was it different for everybody? She wanted to know. It was very emotionally important to Zenith that the relationships in her life be purposeful and reciprocal. How weird was a relationship with a ship, anyway? She was currently living with a bug. And a reptilian-adjacent humanoid. And her previous best friend was a coffee maker. So probably, all in all, not that weird.
She approached the bridge with the others but hung back behind them. A major part of her didn’t want to know a damn thing about space spiders. Were they giant? Super senses? Could they just float around in space waiting to pounce?
Stop it, she yelled at herself inside her head. She shook her head, trying to get the cobwebs out. Cobwebs? Come on, Zenith. Shut up, she told herself.
She thought about the conversation she had been having in her head for the last several minutes, wobbled over, and heaved herself into the nearest chair, trying not to hurl.
She scanned the nervous faces, the three stooges slapping of each other’s hands from the console, and the entertaining bickering. She watched it like an out of body experience, like it wasn’t happening to her as well. She watched Aquillon gesturing, his green muscles rippling. Celeste flitted here and there, slapping people with her antenna, and Helo arguing with them while raising his voice and gesturing. And all the while there were the beeping and the colored flashing lights. It was almost funny in a way.
Zenith peeked underneath and confirmed for herself that Celeste’s feet, or what passed as them, were not, in fact, touching the ground. She knew this because she could detect the very faint humming sound over the rest of the noise that she made when she levitated. It wasn’t flying, exactly, sometimes she simply seemed not to like touching the ground. Zenith wondered what that would be like.
Zenith was, in fact, still watching the ship’s crew argue, point, and push buttons when she heard a small hiss somewhere behind her, barely audible over the noise.
“Guys?” She glanced first at the still arguing crew, but they had not noticed it. And if they heard her, they were not responding. She turned her head toward the central air lock, one of the few places on the ship capable of making that kind of hissing noise.
There was now a giant, hairy leg protruding out of the airlock and into the ship. Then there were two.
Zenith’s screams attracted the attention of the crew.
Chapter 5
Vermillion’s voice boomed over the speakers. “Zenith- code one. Celeste- code one. Helo-code one.”
Zenith wondered about Aquillon. Why wasn’t he scared? As if in answer to her question, Aquillon darted past her eagerly on his way to the airlock, a giant club in his hand.
Zenith watched him and then felt her back hit a wall, just then realizing she was backing up. She hadn’t taken her eyes off of the airlock, where there were now at least four giant legs and a bunch of spider eyes staring back at her. She was now against the far wall of the bridge.
She heard pronounced buzzing and turned her head slightly to see that Celeste was in the corner up against the ceiling, much like Zenith was against the wall. The buzzing noise was loud, though. If Celeste was trying to hide from the spider, there was no way this was a good strategy. Celeste was making so much noise that the spider could probably have heard her from outside in space.
She turned back to the airlock where Aquillon was clubbing one of the hairy legs that were furthest into the room. Way too far in.
Aquillon landed a solid shot on the leg, which instantly retracted toward the door. “That’s right,” he said proudly, “and—” He never finished his thought.
Another hairy leg extended, hitting him in the chest and knocking him against the far wall. Helo jumped onto the extended hairy leg and rode it like a bull, thrashing and screaming.
Zenith looked at Celeste in the corner again. She was still buzzing and thrashing about in fear against the window up by the ceiling.
Time seemed to slow down. Zenith looked back at the airlock where the spider was making its way into the ship. That thing was gonna break through. It was only a matter of time.
The guys were busy, and Celeste was so scared. Zenith had to do something. An idea popped into her head. It wasn’t a particularly good idea, but she felt like time was running out on any better ideas that she might have in the future. The only trick would be to act without thinking because if she thought anything through she’d never move again. She’d sit terrified against the wall until the spider broke in and just ate her. And Celeste.
Zenith willed herself to move for a few seconds until her brain and body re-established a connection, and then, before she could talk herself out of it, she ran over to the corner, jumped high into the air, and grabbed Celeste by a low-hanging appendage.
Then she took off running with Celeste trailing behind like a helium-filled balloon. Celeste screeched, buzzed, and resisted the whole way.
Zenith’s plan was simple. The only way to potential safety was past the spider. In their bedroom, behind the sealed metal door.
So, with both Celeste and Zenith screaming in terror, Zenith ran straight toward the airlock and hurdled a giant hairy leg that was laying across the entire length of the floor. The action was made easier because of Celeste’s furiously beating wings which helped them get higher. Then she passed the airlock and the spider and Helo and Aquillon and kept right on going.
Zenith then continued down the hallway, realizing that she was still screaming. She opened the door to the girls’ bedroom, pulled Celeste in, and then slammed the door shut. It is a pretty good door, thought Zenith, smacking it with her hand. It was solid metal. It should hold. Besides, how would the spider even know where they were? Would it break down every door in Vermillion looking for them? Would the spider just eat the rest of the cre
w?
Oh yeah, Vermillion. Why had Vermillion gone silent? Oh no, the rest of the crew.
“You!” Celeste landed and looked at Zenith, having recovered herself, at least temporarily from her earlier panic. “You could have killed me,” she said, pointing an antenna right at Celeste’s nose. She bared a set of insect teeth menacingly.
Zenith, nearly peed herself, falling backward onto the floor, shaking her head. “I thought the spider was gonna break through,” she protested. “I figured it wouldn’t track you down all the way over here. I don’t know how systematic they are, or intelligent, or motivated. I mean I don’t know anything about space spiders except that they’re terrifying. I was scared for you. For us.”
Celeste’s teeth retracted, and her expression changed. She seemed to consider the whole sequence of events. “You saved me,” she said. “On purpose.” Another pause, then a smirk. Or so Zenith guessed. “You, like, hurdled a giant spider leg to get me out of there. Us, out of there.”
“Well,” said Zenith, smiling with relief and getting into the spirit of things, “you did help me get higher on the jump. I just wanted to buy us some time.” Now that her roommate wasn’t going to kill her now, or in her sleep, probably, there was the problem of the others.
She faced Celeste again. “Stay here,” she said, “in fact, get in the shower. I’m guessing the spider probably can’t break down two doors.”
Zenith turned to leave, but then turned back again, “hey, look, if it does somehow get in here, stay on the ground, okay? Don’t fly. When you’re in danger, real danger, the buzzing: it’s a dead giveaway that you’re prey. I could hear it across the room, and predators can probably hear it a mile away. I know it’s probably instinct, but it’s a really bad idea.” She pushed Celeste into the shower and closed the door.
“Where are you going?” Celeste’s echo-ey voice asked from inside the shower.
