“Reactor 2 is going critical! Coolant leak on 1.”
Tosh had screamed to Emerson who had fallen next to the processing tower at the back of the control room. “Landon, let’s go!” Emerson had responded immediately and they had scrambled to the reactor.
Signal Control Room
Time Since Evacuation – four hours forty-six minutes
The pair reached signal control and were met with chaotic scenes. Broken screens suspended from cables hung haphazardly from the roof, some still spilling white sparks over the workers below. The red haze of the emergency lighting reflected off distraught and frightened faces. Tosh searched the floor for Young and spotted him out of the corner of his eye. He appeared to be working on one of the signal backup storage capacitors. There were five in total but only three were run on a full time schedule to conserve power from the base generators. The honeycombed clear glass structures had been analysing every nanosecond of the signal for the past forty-three years. Tosh and Emerson made their way through the sparks and joined Young by one of the honeycombs. He looked up and placed a hand on Tosh.
“Still ticking, old friend. Thank you.” Tosh nodded his head. “I hope to Christ we can still save the signal files. If we can’t we’re fucked. Pardon my French. I can’t raise Tyrell or anyone on the surface of Mars. At the moment, we’re on our own up here. Landon, I could really use your help with this. I have everyone working on damage control and communications.”
Emerson acknowledged the words and slipped between two of the glass-honeycombed structures. Young waited for Emerson to be hidden from view and pulled Tosh aside.
“What the fuck just happened? I want a frank answer, Daniel. The human race just went extinct! I find it hard to believe that after one hundred years the fuckers chose today to blow us out of the universe.”
Tosh looked at the head of Jycorp. “I wish I knew, Jerome. I really do.”
A female shouted from over the fray, “Mr Young, we have comms back up to Mars Colony. I have John Barrington for you.”
“Say again?” Young said to the distorted face of Mars Colony 1. The reply was fragmented but the resolution was beginning to clear.
“Mr. Young, simply put, we have to get everyone off the surface of Phobos and Mars and onto The Agathon.” Young stared. Barrington continued, “Tyrell has confirmed that the shockwave has accelerated a large debris field which will come into contact with the surface in roughly eight months. The shock will devastate the surface and possibly shift the orbit of the planet. Phobos’s orbit is too unstable to withstand the gravitational effects of this shift and, to be blunt, we currently have nowhere else to go.”
“John, the last time I checked The Agathon was missing half of its hull.”
The image of Barrington raised an eyebrow. “Well, Mr. Young, I suggest we get a move on, because we have eight months before humans bid this universe a fond farewell.”
“John, can I speak to Tyrell?”
“One moment.” Barrington’s face vanished from view and was replaced by Tyrell’s.
“Doctor Tyrell, are you sure about this?” Young asked.
“Quite sure, Mr Young. To be honest, we don’t really have the time to debate this decision. Preparations need to begin immediately. I suggest you begin transitioning all personnel from both orbitals and the surface base to the colony down here. I will liaise with Doctor Tosh about salvaging all data from the Monolith—”
Young interrupted him, “Tyrell, where exactly do you suppose we go?” Tyrell looked at Barrington off screen.
“Tyrell?” Young pressed.
“Well it seems to me that the logical course of action would be to initiate the FTL technology on The Agathon and, should it prove successful, then...” He paused. Young waited.
“Then...” He paused.
“Then we set a course for the origin of the signal.” Young turned away from the screen and looked at Tosh, whose face had turned a pale colour over the last several minutes.
“Tyrone, did I just hear you right?” he said over Young’s shoulder.
“Yes, Tosh. That’s why we’re building the damn thing in the first place, no?”
“So let me get this straight,” Young added. “You are suggesting we load what is left of the human race into an untested and unfinished ship, hit the faster than light drive, then pay a visit to the planet whose inhabitants have just destroyed ours?”
Tyrell again looked off screen to Barrington. “In a nutshell yes. I am.”
Young answered after a moment of silence, “As I see it, we have one small problem with that plan.”
Tyrell knew what he was getting at and finished his thought. “There isn’t enough room for everyone.”
Carrie Barrington’s residence
Main Habitat Ring
Time since Evacuation – two days thirteen minutes
21:32 Martian Standard Time
The sun had taken on a luminescent green hue as it set over the Martian horizon. Carrie stood by her curved window and watched as it sank into the red landscape. The mixture of the yellow, red and green light was beautiful. The peace of the evening had been a welcome friend, as the events of the last twenty four-hours navigated her mind. The gathering of the colonists in the main cargo hangar earlier in the day had taken its toll on her, as the devastation of two thousand people had flooded into the air. She could see their thoughts hovering over them, as if their minds had run out of space in which to store them. Thousands of dead faces had filled the air. The friends and families of loved ones left behind. Generations of those left on Earth. She had taken precautions before the meeting, by allowing her mind to lock itself safely inside her castle. The drawbridge pulled and all weapons firmly targeted at the entrance. At the moment of the announcement, she had opened fire and had successfully kept the wave of enemy feelings at bay. Only just. Some of the colonists had become distressed and had run out of the main hall. They had run, to no avail, to the closest communications terminal to try and contact anyone off world to confirm. Her father had let them go and urged calm while they had gathered more information about next steps.
What had followed was four hours of intense questioning from the settlers, most of whome were scientists or medical personnel. The anger of the military complement had proven to be more difficult for Carrie to deal with than she had anticipated. Their thoughts were a mix of focused, determined, and disciplined anger looking for revenge. Their surface was well guarded, but beneath was a sea of uncertainty. The castle was in danger.
As she looked on to the sunset she turned to the open Holo file she had running on the desk beside her bed. It was an old file her father had given to her, from when they were preparing for the journey to her new home. The live rendition was taken on the shores of the beach in Playa Norte in Mexico, with endless white sand and shallow water. Her mother’s smiling face as she looked on at the rolling waves was one of Carrie’s favourite images. She looked happy. She really had been a beautiful woman. Carrie lay on her bed and closed her eyes, while listening to the sea and laughter of her parents. She lowered the drawbridge and allowed the feelings of serenity to permeate throughout her mind. Her mother’s laughter filled the universe and Carrie could not hold back the warm smile that she formed involuntarily. As the drawbridge lowered, she saw her mother waiting for her. She saw her face as it found hers and the love that accompanied it wrapped around her like a thousand soft feathers.
The entrance chime to her quarters snapped her eyes open suddenly. It was unusual for her to be startled by the presence of another colonist, as she sensed them long before they normally approached.
“Come in,” she said. The door, recognising the command, released the locking mechanism and slid open with a soft hiss. Chase Meridian was in the doorway.
“May I enter?” she said softly. Carrie smiled.
“Of course, Chase, no need to ask.” Sh
e swung her legs up and sat against the headrest. Chase walked in slowly and stood at the foot of her bed. She caught the Holo image Carrie had been running.
“She was really hot stuff, wasn’t she?”
“She was,” Carrie replied.
“Still, I think you would have given her a run for her money.” She sat at the end of the soft mattress and looked out at the failing light.
“I wanted to see how you were holding up,” she said, as she continued her gaze out onto the Martian landscape.
“We will have to leave here,” she answered quietly.
“Soon.”
“I am worried about my father. I do not think he is fully aware of what is expected of him from this time forward. He is afraid.”
Meridian laughed. “Your father knows exactly what is expected of him, kiddo. Be careful not to confuse fear with acceptance of sadness. He has lost a great deal. Besides, he’s not alone. We’ve got Jerome Young himself preparing to land with all the crew from up there. Maybe he can buy us a new planet?” she said, pointing to the sky and smiling. Carrie feigned a smile and gazed. Meridian stood up from the bed.
“I want you to come with me. I want to show you something.” Carrie looked puzzled.
“Chase, the sun has gone down. Not much to see around here.”
“Trust me. Grab that scope I gave you for your birthday. It should do the trick nicely. I need to pick something up from my quarters first. Come on, now. While we still have a planet to go out from.” She raised her hand, took Carrie’s in hers and pulled her gently from the bed.
Martian Surface
22:13 Martian Standard
After a short RV journey, Carrie and Meridian stopped three kilometres up the southern face of Elysium Mons. The ancient volcano rose out of the soil and seemed to touch the stars when viewed from its base. The dim glow from the colonial lights could be seen in the distance. At the edge of the horizon, the Atmo processors worked tirelessly, although somewhat foolhardily given the circumstances, to fill the doomed world with breathable air for impossible future generations. Carrie loved being off base. The feel of the soil produced a strange sensation in her fingertips. There was something else when she ventured out. Another feeling. Something in her mind, something familiar calling her.
“What am I looking at, Chase?” Carrie asked, peering at the display screen of the infrared magniscope given to her by Meridian on her twenty-third birthday. The relatively compact device sat on three legs and looked like a cube resting on one of its points.
“Hang on, let me get the coordinates.” Meridian tapped a few commands into her integrated wrist screen.
“Okay, sending to you now.” The scope bleeped and swivelled on its small turret.
“Locked,” said a computerised male voice. Jycorp had not bothered with humanistic vocals for this particular range of scope.
“There she is,” said Meridian. Carrie looked at the screen and the silver disk-shaped craft filled it in perfect detail.
“The Agathon?” she responded.
“The Agathon,” Meridian repeated, with pride in her voice. The pair stared at the quietly rotating ship. The inner FTL ring was currently extended to a ninety-degree angle. They were obviously running a mechanical test of some sort. The aft section of the vessel showed exposed decks, as a series of surrounding construction platforms arced around the hull like a cradling spider, while sparks from plasma welders flashed brightly against the emptiness. They both looked on at the floating vessel silently. Carrie did not notice her attention shift at first, as she had thought her mind had been wandering while taking in the beautiful views. Her eyes came to rest at a point in the distance. She began to take notice when Meridian touched her shoulder.
“Hey there,” she said, waving her hand in front of her face. “You still with us here?” Carrie stayed on the point in the distance, unable to take her eyes from it. She heard something. Something out there over the rim. She felt something. Something she needed to stay far away from. A sleeping evil. Meridian shook her shoulder.
“Carrie!” She snapped back to the moment with a sharp breath and looked the doctor in her eyes.
“I am sorry, Chase, my mind wandered.”
“Yeah, it does that a lot nowadays, doesn’t it?” she said, raising an eyebrow. “When are you going to start telling me what is going on in that Martian brain of yours?” she said. Carrie smiled and glanced back at the point in the distance, before turning back to Meridian.
“So this little trip was about The Agathon?” she said, changing the subject.
“No, little one,” she said, tapping commands into the control panel of the scope. “This is why.” The scope shifted its axis and began to rotate to a different patch of the night’s sky.
“Locked,” it said dryly. Meridian looked at the display.
“See that?” she said to Carrie.
She approached the viewing screen and stared at the moving objects. “Debris?” she asked solemnly. The objects were too small to make out clearly with this class of scope, but were clearly moving at the same speed and seemed to be clumped together. In formation. She suddenly realised.
“Ships!” she said. She looked at Meridian.
“Ships,” she said smiling. “Tyrell confirmed earlier this evening that multiple beacons have been detected. We knew that the transports would probably make it or at least have their courses automatically set when the pulse hit, but there are others. We got ourselves some survivors, kiddo, and they’re headed our way.”
“Any idea how many?” Carrie continued.
“Tyrell has clocked twelve at the moment, but there could be more and they’re moving fast.” Carrie looked on at the little ships.
“Home,” said a dark voice within her. She glanced back at the horizon, at the sudden interruption in her mind. There was something old and evil out there and it knew she was here. A strange feeling began to run up her spine and her fingertips began to tingle as a light electric charge travelled through her body. She thought she must have left a circuit on her suit slightly exposed. Seconds later, it disappeared.
4
“The Black” Cave
Time since Gamma Event-Three days
17:16 Martian Standard
The Black remained motionless as Lorenzo Fraine knelt at its edge. John Barrington only granted access to the cave in special circumstances and its sealed interior needed three identifiers in order to release the erected air lock. Retinal scans followed a DNA coder into the chamber, preventing any colonist from accidentally falling prey to the deadly substance. The geologist had been granted special permission to conduct seismic and acoustic tests. He had to focus on something other than the loss of his family in Caracas. While he was an unmarried man, his adventures on the red planet were shared on a daily basis by his nieces and little sister. He would bring them out on virtual driving tours, using his portable comm unit and show them all the experiments he was carrying out, by which they had seemed dazzled.
“How are we doing today, monster?” he whispered into the silence. The probe he had placed into the soft underbelly of the liquid was slowly sinking into nothingness, relaying its data before being consumed.
“Your sacrifice has not been in vain, my friend,” he told the doomed metallic pole, as it silently disappeared. His dark brown eyes watched patiently as the last signals from the probe sent a torrent of information into his wrist monitor. There was a light spark as the metal disintegrated and the last signal was sent. The absorption had been swift. Fraine had been fascinated with the fact that it never caused a single ripple. He had noted that the event had been akin to peristalsis in the human digestive system.
“Hungry today, aren’t we?” he asked. His soft Venezuelan accent permeated through the cave. It had been an interesting observation that there was very little reverberation within the cave walls themselves, with most of the sou
ndwaves being absorbed. It was discovered to be an effect of the unique density of The Black. He had postulated that it had been a wonderful defence mechanism of the creature in order to disorientate its victims in a low light environment.
“Cool as a cucumber, cool as a cucumber,” he said. Soft footsteps came from the right. The skinny frame of Bobby Shields stood by his shoulder. His light skin and fire red hair made the inside of his faceplate glow, even in this environment.
“Ye gotta stop talkin’ to yourself, Frainey. You’ll go crazy.” Lorenzo ignored the young Englishman and continued on. He had requested to go out alone after the news of Earth, but Barrington had forbidden it.
“What are you doing anyway? Don’t really see the point in all this. We’re all fucked. Especially this horrible goo.”
Lorenzo strained against the high-pitched, nasal tone of the thirty-one-year-old pharmacologist. “I am trying to concentrate on these readings. Do you mind?” he said with irritation in his voice.
“Sorry, mate, just trying to ease the tension. This place gives me the creeps,” said Bobby, as he shuffled carefully away and made his way around the edge of the pool towards a seated area far from The Black. Lorenzo felt slightly bad about the way he had spoken to him, but quickly focused his attention back to his readings. He tried to quell thoughts of pushing the annoying little man into The Black to shut him up.
The Agathon: Book One Page 7
