by Angie Arland
“I don’t want to die.” Claire sobbed. “I want to go home.”
“I don’t want to die either, sis.” Tayla’s breath quickened, and her heart felt as though it would burst from her chest like the creepy alien in that movie they had watched...when? Days ago?
She scanned the rows of cocoons as they passed. There was no apparent way out of the labyrinthine hell. Sudden thoughts of their parents rushed to the surface, and a sob escaped her lips. They would never know what happened and assume their daughters were killed in the car accident, their bodies swept away in the current.
Claire gripped her arm tighter as they neared a group of gray aliens ministering to a row of low cocoons. They each held a rod-like apparatus, the nozzle spraying a sticky substance onto the cocoons, the excess dripping in pools on the floor.
Claire let out a bloodcurdling scream as enormous mantis-like creatures crawled across the tubing and hoisted the cocoons, one at a time, onto the rotating contraption and secured the top with green, organic-looking fibers. The mantis creatures’ exoskeletons were different hues of green with patches of moss-type growth peppered down the thorax and legs.
One of the creatures split a wriggling cocoon with its claw-like appendages and a gray, writhing body coated in slime slipped to the floor. The acrid stench of copper filled the air. Tayla wiped tears from her eyes and watched as they drew closer. Two terudithans heaved the slimy humanoid from the floor and turned it to face the mantis-creature. It pushed a neck-tentacle into the humanoid’s mouth for a moment and extracted it again. The newborn Terudithan soldier spewed a thick substance and gasped for air.
Claire sobbed, and Tayla pulled her sister close as they were pushed further along the pathway. “I’m sorry.”
Are they going to feed us to the aliens? Tayla would rather return to the white room and have a thousand needles shoved through her brain. Anything but this!
The forest of cocoons thinned out to an open area filled with more mantis-like creatures scrabbling about and tending their harvest like spiders upon eggs.
A human soldier in military fatigues knelt before a towering mantis. The man looked at Tayla with despair, as two of the mantis’ neck-tentacles delved into his carotid arteries, either side of his neck. The creature sucked juices from his body, and he shrunk down and aged like a dry autumn leaf.
That’s it! Tayla turned to run, but Claire stopped her. “I love you, sis,” she said, tears streaming down her face. One of the aliens flanking them snatched Tayla’s upper arms in a steel grip and dragged her toward the ten-foot-tall mantis. Tayla pulled back, dug her feet into the brittle decay of cocoons littering the floor.
“No! Take me instead,” she heard Claire scream.
She tried to wriggle free for one last look at her sister, but she stopped in paralyzing awe as two Terudithan aliens assisted the soldier to his feet—the very one that had just been sucked dry! The man raised his head and looked at Tayla.
How is he still alive? ’His eyes glazed over as the veins in his neck turned black and spread across his face. The mantis lifted the soldier using scissor-like appendages, and dropped him, feet first, into an open cocoon.
Tayla threw up. The alien released her and stepped back, saying something in its native tongue. She had just witnessed her own demise. The image of them being fed to some alien creature in the cocoons was confirmed. Unfathomable horror gripped every fiber of her being, and she vomited again.
“No! Please no...” Claire kept pleading from somewhere behind.
Tayla looked back to find Claire on her knees. One of the large creatures drove its tentacles into her sister’s neck. Claire’s eyes widened as it sucked the life from her. Tayla screamed as the mantis chittered and drank her sister dry—all the while, Claire held Tayla’s horrified gaze.
Tayla flew into a rage. She ran toward her sister, vaulted into the air and landed on the mantis. She clambered its insectoid body and reached behind its head. Tayla bellowed a dinnarei war cry and ripped the tentacles from the mantis’s skull, violet-pink blood spewed from its open wounds. The creature howled, thrashing from side to side, trying to throw her off. Tayla clung on with her elbows and knees, surging with renewed strength she never thought possible. The creature’s four remaining suckered arms whipped and stabbed at her.
A memory emerged in the back of her mind—not hers, but one of a Dinnarei warrior. Tayla then knew how to disable the creature. She dug her thumbs into the only soft part on its body, its eyes. She pushed her thumbs as far as they could go into its triangular skull.
Tayla straddled the creature’s face as its legs buckled. It dropped to the floor, brown eye-jelly oozing from its sockets and down Tayla’s hands. The creature lay motionless. Tayla turned and rushed to Claire, yanking the tentacles from her neck.
Blood gushed from Claire’s neck, washing over the sun pendant she wore. Tayla pressed her hands to the wounds, trying to staunch the flow, knowing in her heart there was nothing she could do.
Claire stared quietly at Tayla’s face, then her eyes glazed over. Tayla dragged her sister onto her lap and wrapped her arms around her. Claire took her last breath, then her chest was still.
The eyeless mantis suddenly rose up. Its howl echoed off the walls as a horde of Terudithan soldiers converged upon Tayla. She closed her sister’s eyes and allowed Claire’s body to slip to the floor. She felt herself being pulled backward, but Tayla was numb, devoid of emotion. She awaited the inevitable.
Another mantis skittered across the tops of the cocoons. It climbed to the floor and crawled toward Tayla; its face armor flared and neck-tentacles flew around its head. It drew itself to its full height before her, ten feet or more, an intimidating show of power.
Tayla looked up unflinching. She felt defiant and somehow strong. This was never how she had imagined dying. When she found out about her mitochondrial disease, the doctors told her she would die from respiratory failure. She never pictured being slain at the hands of an alien creature on a spaceship. Who would?
The mantis lowered its armored head inches from her own, then slowly wrapped its tentacles around her neck. Without flinching, Tayla stared death in the face, and the mantis tightened its hold on her throat until she blacked out.
Twelve
They were all quiet. Even Harper wasn’t whining, to Aiden’s surprise. He guessed the crew were deep in their own thoughts of family and friends.
Aiden licked his lips. “It’s moments like these that define us, that tell us who—”
“I’ve got sweat in my butt crack,” Small Arms Specialist Billy Mason announced. “I’m sorry, but it’s driving me crazy.” The man made an awkward gyrating motion with his rear end against the wall.
Ryder yelled through the helmet comms. “What the hell, Mason?”
Harper jumped in his chair at her loud outburst.
“No disrespect, sir,” Mason said, “but I don’t intend on dying today. The pep talk you were about to spew, while the sentiment’s appreciated and all, well, I’m sure I speak for everyone here when I say we really don’t want to hear it.”
Aiden laughed, feeling a little foolish. “No offense taken. I think.”
The ground pounder did have a point. If they were about to die, the last thing they wanted to hear was a crappy speech about honor, integrity, and loyalty.
Ryder’s anger was palpable, however. “Didn’t they teach you EVA basics in cadets, Mason? Chain-of-command etiquette?”
The woman was predictable, to say the least, always there to pull them in line and remind them Aiden was their Commanding Officer.
“Just think, Mason...” Karson cut in. “Next time you suck on the hydration tube in your suit, you’re drinking your own body fluids. Pretty cool, huh?”
“What? Oh great, so I’m sucking back on ass sweat right now?” Mason sounded disgusted.
“Pretty much.” Karson responded. “Ryder’s right, sir. You taught cadets before joining the scout division, so maybe you should be giving Mason a refres
her course on EVA basics.”
Aiden stopped laughing. He’d pushed those memories away and never wanted to remember them. After seven cycles, the pain was still raw.
Ryder cleared her throat. “They cut the basics of EVA out of the training, after too many cadets refused to drink their own recycled fluids.”
“When you put it like that, I’m done drinking.” Mason laughed and coughed. “I’m okay, just choked on my own spit.”
Aiden didn’t know whether to laugh, cry, or remind them they were depleting their O2 supply.
“I’m going off comms if you lot keep this up,” came Finnegan’s voice over the comms. “Think I’m gonna throw up in my helmet.”
“How you holding up?” Aiden asked. He felt uncomfortable with five blast doors locked down between them.
“The engine has shit itself and, well, with all disrespect, maybe the upgrades before we left wouldn’t have been such a bad idea.”
The old man didn’t know what the hell he was talking about. Aiden opened his mouth to respond, but Karson cut in, “I heard initial trials passed all standard tests, and they’re rolling out upgrades to every scout ship in the fleet as we speak.”
“Not all apparently,” Harper whined.
“You rejected the upgrades?” Karson turned and looked at Aiden. “Sir?”
“I do not believe our C.O. would do anything of the sort,” Ryder said, then shifted in her chair as well. “Would you, sir?”
Aiden raised his hands in defense. “I didn’t reject them per se, but this ship is the last in line for the new Em Drive. I just wanted to give you all a little extra time to...adjust.” This was not the conversation he wanted to have now.
Harper threw his hands up. “That’s wonderful! It would have made things a lot easier and maybe we wouldn’t be stranded now…sir!”
Aiden took a calming breath. “Okay, everyone, allow me to lay it out for you—after this mission, you’re obsolete, every single one of you, and, to top it off, you’d be stuck in maintenance on the lower decks of the Ancora, the Terra Colonia or the Xenia right now.” Aiden had to admit, it felt good getting this off his chest.
“You’re shitting us,” Harper said.
“The engines don’t require an engineer, an AI flies the damned ship; plus, it runs every single system, so I’ve saved the goddamn lot of you.”
“Or doomed us to death,” Harper said.
Aiden was the first to admit he made a mistake putting off the upgrades. He thought he was giving the crew what they wanted. Now they had him second guessing. Maybe he had doomed them all to a slow death on an asteroid far from home.
“Well, I’m not going to sit in a frecking hole covered in grease just so some asshole higher-up can have his luxury quarters cleaned by a maintenance bot,” Weps Karson cut in before Harper said more. “Thank you, sir, for giving us this last mission.”
Aiden knew Karson’s father was one of those higher-ups, which somehow made it worse.
“Is that it then?” Ryder wore an uncharacteristic scowl of frustration. “Do we not have a choice where we go? After everything we’ve done for the fleet? What? They’re hurling us into the dungeons?”
“What about us?” Zoe Grimes asked, meaning the ground pounders “They replacing us grunts?”
Aiden looked at her. “’Made obsolete by AI-controlled drones equipped with an arsenal no grunt can carry on their backs. Plus, they don’t need food, water, or rest, and they never bitch about working conditions.” Aiden swung his gaze around the room, all eyes were on him. “The engineers installed the Everything program into the prototype, and now they’re rolling it out, to all AT shuttles, fully automated and tied into the Eve Command core on the Terra Colonia.”
Aiden had attended the meeting on the Terra Colonia informing them of the new developments. The only living crew the upgraded scout ships required were a captain and an engineer–and that was a temporary measure until the AI proved itself to function autonomously. The Dinnarei luminary in attendance had insisted that his own people delegate an engineering technician to each ship, as their knowledge of such systems were superior. Aiden didn’t have anything against the dinnarei, although rumors had spread that they were the ones who started this damn war. Until he received hard proof of that, however, he wasn’t going to blame anyone. It had gone way beyond finger pointing.
“I don’t like it,” Finnegan groused over the comms.
“You don’t like anything,” Aiden said in return.
Harper raised a hand. “So, let me get this straight…,” his eyes narrowed with discontent, “…we’re being shelved while the AI runs the fleet?”
“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you,” Aiden shook his head in disbelief.
Harper looked aside. “Sure as hell be safer,” he said in a low voice.
Aiden had been waiting for the SigsOp to complain. “Look, Harper, if you want to transfer when we return to fleet, that’s your call. No one is going to stop you.”
“If we make it back…” Harper added.
Karson swiveled in his chair. “Transfer Harper straight to Central Holding, then we’d all be happier.”
Harper scowled at the Weapons Officer. “Shut the hell up, Karson.”
Karson laughed, knowing exactly how to infuriate the SigsOp.
The Weps rarely said anything against Harper, even though his counterpart gave him constant hell. Truth of the matter, Harper wasn’t Aiden’s first choice as Signals Operator, but the guy had connections, and Aiden couldn’t refuse his posting even if he wanted to.
“Why don’t we all shut this garbage up?” Specialist Mason said, his deep voice almost a growl. “I do one thing well and that’s kick ass, doesn’t matter where or how, and I’m sure as hell not sitting in maintenance fixing shit—no offense, Finnegan—while some damned AI takes over the fight for me.”
“I’m sure we all agree, at least some of us…” Aiden glanced at Harper, but the SigsOp’s face was obscured by the side of his helmet. “I know we’ve all lost family and friends to the squid. I, for one, prefer to be out here fighting or finding ways to bring them to their knees. I’m not going to sit down in the lower decks cleaning some maintenance bot while machines do all the fighting for us.”
“I don’t get it,” Ryder said. “Why maintenance? Can’t we just transfer to another ship?”
“Didn’t you hear the man?” Mason said. “We’re obsolete! That’s what he’s trying to tell us. If it weren’t for him, we’d be shelved already.”
“Shelved? You mean safe?” Harper whined.
“Shut up, Harper!” Mason and Karson both clipped in unison.
Specialist Grimes said, “Or, they could, you know, really shelve us.”
“You mean limbo land?” Mason asked, meaning Central Holding.
Grimes seemed to shrug in her suit. “I don’t know, but I tell you one thing: I’m not going back into virtual limbo hell. I’ll leave before that shit happens, man. Tell them to drop me off on the nearest rock and I’ll live out the rest of my life there, squid or no squid, I don’t care.”
“I hear you,” Mason said, holding out his arm for an air fist bump, as they weren’t near enough for an actual one. Grimes returned it, saying, “Pow!”
“So…this is our last mission then?” Karson said.
“Obviously!” Harper snapped. “This stupid idea of yours isn’t going to work.”
“You know,” Karson looked aside at Harper. “I don’t know what your damned problem is, but go ahead, keep sucking back on the O2. You’ll be doing us all a favor.”
“Enough of the bickering!” Aiden had considered blasting Harper out the airlock more than once just to get some peace.
Co-pilot Reece chimed in from the cockpit. “Hey, there’s a planet not far from here. I picked it up on radar before we went dark.”
“Goldilocks?” Karson asked, meaning a planet with a breathable, life sustaining atmosphere.
“Yeah, believe it or not. Just one slight iss
ue, it’s shrouded in a metallic particulate I’ve never encountered before. Didn’t get a chance to analyze it further, but once the systems are up, I can check it out.”
“You mean if we get back up and running,” the SigsOp murmured with a sneer.
“Shut up, Harper!” everyone yelled, even Mister Finnegan.
Thirteen
“So…” Ryder said after a long silence. “What does everyone have planned when we return to fleet? I have time booked in the V-Rep.”
Ryder knew how to diffuse a tense situation. When she initially joined the crew, she had trouble fitting in, so she mainly kept to herself in her cabin when not at her console. Over time, she had become a confident crewmember. Aiden smiled at her. It was a shame they were about to be broken apart.
Finnegan cut through the helmet comms. “Pfah! You won’t catch me going near that ungodly representation of Earth. It’s nothing like it, and I’m the only one here that’s frecking seen the place! Well…me and McNeill.”
“Save your energy, Mister Finnegan,” Aiden said with a small chuckle.
“Energy? What’s that? Besides, if I want to die bitching, I’m damned well entitled.”
The old man did have a point, but part of Aiden’s job was to keep up morale even in the face of certain death. He was trying to think of something to say when Karson spoke.
“Hey, Harper, tell us about your last vacation in the V-Rep. I want all the juicy details, especially the rundown on the Amanita phalloides you found in Australia.”
“Oh, I wasn’t aware you had an interest in mushrooms. Oh, um, well I—wait…Are you trying to get me to use up my O2?”
“What gives you that idea?” Karson sat forward in his chair and leaned his elbows on his knees.
“Karson, you bastard,” Harper complained.
Peals of laughter erupted through the comms.
