Wayfarer: AV494

by Matthew S. Cox

  “I―”

  Captain Chen whipped her arm up, put the gun under her chin, and fired her last bullet.

  Kerys screamed.

  A glop of blood and brains slid down the wall, disappearing behind the dead woman.

  16

  Degrees of Sanity

  Hallway after hallway passed in a blur. Kerys ran until she reached her quarters. Once inside, she locked the door and collapsed to the floor, bawling. Marco’s exploding head and Captain Chen’s utterly psychotic stare traded places against the backs of her eyelids. She sobbed into her arms for what felt like hours, unable to process the idea of being stranded here, the one sane rat in a cage full of bloodthirsty animals.

  Eventually, she stopped crying, but lacked the will to move. That she didn’t sniffle or feel stuffy-headed surprised her. She sat up, rubbing her sinuses. The congestion had broken. It couldn’t have been a minor cold that made everyone go insane. If whatever caused this had been in the air, surely, she should’ve been out of her mind with everyone else. It didn’t make any sense that she had a foggy head while everyone else went murderously delusional.

  Kerys considered the possibility she might have set off some kind of alien curse that spared her because she’d been the one to touch the head. But that made no sense. For one thing, if she started to seriously entertain the idea of ‘magic’ as being possible, she’d have to file herself away as ‘insane’ like everyone else. For another, why would it spare the person who broke the seal? No, she hadn’t invaded some ancient Egyptian burial vault. And she didn’t believe in curses either.

  What was Anna trying to tell me? Maybe there’s something on her computer?

  Sore muscles, the last vestiges of fever aches, protested her moving, but she wiped her cheeks and stood. A few laps around her tiny room eased the stiffness. She spent a few minutes stretching as if preparing for a workout, grabbed her dumbbell, and approached the door.

  Three out of five people she trusted were dead and she had no way to know if the other two, Gina or Corporal Guillen, remained alive or even sane. Whatever happened here had so far spared her, so perhaps others―by means of whatever genetic quirk she had―might’ve escaped as well. The idea that Foster might still be pounding on the door in the cafeteria caused a nervous laugh, followed by a pang of guilt.

  I don’t know if there’s anything out there. If people who die away from Earth go to the same place… or if people who die even go anywhere. Never much thought about that stuff before. She wished for Don, Paula, and Marco to rest in peace, took a breath, and opened her door.

  “Okay,” she whispered. “Anna works in Lab 1. She knew something was coming; maybe she’s okay.” Down the hall to the tube, across the dome to the south, left side tunnel.

  The soft hum of the ventilation system, a sound she never noticed before with people moving around, filled the hallway outside. She crept to the ladder and made her way down, careful to watch for another surprise from behind. No one waited for her at the bottom. She clutched the hex dumbbell like a knight with a broken sword, and made her way to the dome.

  Nothing looked different in the flexible tube or the area outside the cafeteria. All the bodies remained as they had been before. The absence of banging proved Foster had gone elsewhere, which got the hairs on the back of her neck standing up. She kept her weight on her toes to minimize sound as she followed the hallway past the stairs to the southern half of the dome.

  White noise hissed from a speaker in a small office on the left. Dripping came from a single-occupant bathroom a few feet ahead on the right. She stared at the door, expecting someone to jump out at her. A buzz overhead made her jump and recoil from a fluttering LED tube.

  “Shit,” she whispered. “Just lights.”

  Kerys glanced side to side at doors as she advanced, unsure if she should be comforted or worried at being in the military section. The barracks on her left looked quiet and dark. Across the hall, a security monitoring station had been abandoned; two empty chairs faced a bank of monitors.

  “Ooh.” She grabbed the doorknob, hoping to get a view around the facility, but the knob wouldn’t turn. The panel rejected her ID badge with an irritating buzz. “Dammit.”

  She started to go up on tiptoe to peer in the window, but jumped away at motion in the reflection near her head.

  Private Foster, only a few steps away, froze when she moved. He’d looked devoid of sense before, but the expression on his face now had become as blank as an android. With all the emotion of a moving corpse, he clenched and relaxed his grip on his combat knife, and charged.

  Kerys spun to the right, grabbing for his leading arm. The knife tore a slice along the sleeve of her jumpsuit on its way into the wall. She grunted and pushed at him. His left hand closed around the front of her throat, pushing her against the door to the security room.

  She scrambled for a second before swinging her right hand up and bashing the dumbbell into his forearm. He pressed harder into her neck, lifting her on tiptoe while ripping his knife hand out of her weak grab on his wrist. She gurgled an attempt to scream and drove her shin into his groin. His face reddened; he froze, stooped slightly forward, wheezing. Shrieking in desperation, Kerys swung her right arm sideways, driving the hexagonal nugget at end of the dumbbell into the side of Foster’s head.

  He tumbled to the side, collapsing to all fours.

  Gagging and choking for air, she took a few steps away, watching him cradle his groin and crawl forward. She glanced at a trace of crimson on the chrome in her hand. Foster dragged himself forward another few feet and flattened out on his chest. Blood streamed from his crushed left eye socket. She rubbed her neck, swallowed, and backed away.

  Metal clanged and clattered from the end of the corridor where it split in two directions, one to the lab, one to the reactor. Kerys looked around for a place to hide, but hesitated, hoping whoever moved down there might not be crazy. Of course, if they’d snapped, and had a gun, she’d be stupid to stay out in the open.

  She started for the barracks door, but made it only two steps before Ellen came tromping up the corridor, wearing her exo suit, her head mere inches from the ceiling. Blood smeared over the dinner-plate-sized Hello Kitty face on the thick metal chest plate.

  The giant woman stared at her the way a Rottweiler might look at filet mignon.

  “Hey Ellen. Good to see you’re okay.” Kerys forced a smile.

  “You’re not real!” shouted the big woman. “Get out of my head!”

  “I’m―”

  Ellen raised her metal-encased arms, roared, and rushed at her.

  “Shit…” Kerys sprinted back the way she came, her mind racing for any idea of where to go to get away.

  “Rrrah!” shouted Ellen.

  Kerys made the mistake of looking back as a pink-and-silver armored boot liquefied Private Foster’s head. Ellen picked up the body by the belt and hurled him into the wall, leaving a dent in the metal. A mushy sack of meat flopped to the ground.

  “Argh!” Ellen grabbed her head, bent forward, and let out a scream of pain, then punched a hole in the wall.

  Three random turns later, clanking footsteps resumed following her. Kerys headed for a smaller door labeled ‘maintenance only.’ Someone had already shot out the access panel, enabling her to pull the door open. Hoping Ellen’s suit couldn’t fit, she crawled in and closed the door. The passage beyond had about half the width of the normal corridors, with bundles of wires and pipes on the left wall. She made it about twenty feet before an ear-punishing screech of metal came from behind.

  Ellen tore the door clear off its hinges and cast it aside like tinfoil. Her steel-wrapped shoulders and chest slammed against the bulkhead with such a boom it seemed the entire dome trembled. “I’m coming for you, figment! I’ll kill all of you.”

  “I’m real, Ellen. I’m not a figment of your imagination.”

  Armored fingers clamped around the doorframe and ripped it off its bolts, widening the opening.

&nbs
p; “Oh, shit.” Kerys whirled around and sprinted hard for the right-angle turn up ahead.

  Ellen pivoted, leading with her right shoulder, and followed her into the maintenance hall. “Think you’re so pretty, don’t you?”

  “Not really,” yelled Kerys as she rounded the corner… and stared at a dead end twenty feet away. A heavy black grille over a maintenance crawlspace vibrated with a mechanical thrum.

  “I don’t care what you think of me. I know I’m pretty.”

  “You are! You’re very pretty!”

  Scraping metal grew louder from Ellen forcing the exo suit down the passage.

  Kerys spun in place, searching for anything. She frowned at the dumbbell. That woman wouldn’t even notice me hitting her.

  “Got you, mouse.” Ellen crammed herself into the bend, straining to pull the massive assisted armor past the corner. The inner wall crumpled under the strain.

  Her left shoulder mangled a pipe as she walked, knocking it askew and shearing metal away from bundles of blue wires. The other end of the pipe broke apart from the wall, ripping down a panel covering a narrow passage lined with wires and glowing circuit boards.

  Caught between a certain crushing death and a possible electrical one, Kerys ran for the only option that offered her a chance. She pulled the grille aside and jumped into the narrow tunnel with Ellen bearing down on her, the giant exo suit shearing more pipes and components off the walls. The giant woman lunged at the opening; metal fingers snagged the thick sole of her shoe. Kerys grabbed a spar crossing near the top of the crawlspace, clinging in defiance of Ellen attempting to pull her out.

  Her body hung suspended between her hands and one foot.

  The half-inch bar bowed under the strain. A pop came from Kerys’s shoulder; a second later, a similar noise emanated from her left hip. She groaned in agony. The exo-suit’s metal fingers slipped a little on the hard rubber. If Ellen pulled too hard, she’d lose her grip.

  She’s not mindless… just psychotic. “Please let go… I swear you’re pretty!”

  “Got you, mousey mousey,” cooed Ellen.

  Kerys stared at her failing grip, tears running from her eyes at the pain in her fingers. “Please, don’t.” She kicked at her trapped shoe, trying to slip out of it, but she’d secured the Velcro too tight.

  “Come now, mousey.” Ellen thrust her left arm in, pushing at the wall and crushing the glowing components out of her way in a flurry of sparks.

  A bright flash preceded a deafening bang that slammed the air out of her lungs.

  The grip on her shoe released. Kerys lurched forward, landed flat, and slid a few inches. She curled fetal, clutching her hands to her chest. Her palms throbbed with pain as though someone had slashed a knife across them.

  Ellen convulsed, emitting a half-scream, half moan that stopped and started in a staccato rhythm. Great blue arc flashes lapped at her suit, springing out from the ruined hole her fingers had torn in the wall. Kerys looked away, cringing from the zapping, buzzing, shrieking mess only five feet away.

  In seconds, the screaming ceased, but the buzzing continued. After a moment, she risked a peek. Ellen’s head hung bowed, steaming blood and white foam dripping to the duct floor below her. The stink of overcooked meat brought bile to the back of Kerys’ throat. Electrical arcs continued jumping from the suit’s shoulders to the metal walls.

  Even if she had the strength to move Ellen out of her way, touching the suit would probably deliver a fatal shock.

  Kerys twisted to look behind her, and let off a gasp of relief at not being trapped. The passage continued about fifteen feet deeper where it split left and right. She glanced back at Ellen and clamped a hand over her mouth and nose in an effort to stop smelling the awful stench of cooking person.

  Sniffling and coughing, she crawled to the junction. Left only went a few feet to a cabinet full of circuit breakers. The other direction extended much farther, with bundles of blue wire diverting off here and there into tiny conduits. A mesh panel at the far end appeared to be a way out, or at least might be thin enough to kick down.

  She headed in that direction, but slowed at the sound of men muttering.

  “You tell me. You’re the damn tech,” said Sergeant Gensch.

  Another man replied, “Something blew up.”

  Gensch chuckled. “Is that your, uhh, technical opinion?”

  “Cut him some slack man,” said a third voice with a Scottish accent. “With everything going on, that could’ve been anything.”

  “Hey,” said voice two, “someone’s cooking. Smells like steak.”

  Kerys threw up a little in her mouth, and spat.

  “Nope.” Gensch heaved a throaty sigh. “Someone humped an electric outlet. That’s fried dead idiot.”

  Voice two dry heaved.

  Kerys crawled up to the mesh screen and peeked out into the space beyond. Three men sat on the floor behind an improvised barricade of boxes, chairs, and two desks. She recognized Sergeant Gensch, but not the exhausted man next to him. Both he and the beefy ginger on his other side wore grey jumpsuits. MacLeod… The facilities manager.

  “This is all kinds of fucked up,” said the black guy. “Everyone just freaked the hell out all at once. Goddamned Munoz tried to stab me.”

  “I had to kill Vicky.” MacLeod hung his head and swallowed a lump. “Hell with Munoz.”

  “At least she went out knowing you loved her.” Gensch adjusted a bandage on MacLeod’s right bicep. “I’d have shot the bitch before she stabbed me.”

  MacLeod wiped tears.

  Kerys pushed the hatch open.

  Gensch whirled on her with a gun poised.

  MacLeod’s sorrow receded. He raised a giant wrench like a broadsword. The other man drew a pair of combat knives.

  “I’m okay.” Kerys raised her hands. A droplet of blood trickled down her palm from where the bar had cut her fingers. “I’m not crazy.”

  “Come on out of there nice and easy,” said Gensch.

  She slithered out, pulling herself onto the floor, and stood with her hands in the air.

  “Who’s that?” asked MacLeod. “Don’t recognize her.”

  “Blue jumpsuit.” The black man shifted his jaw side to side. “From the new team. The archaeologists or some shit.”

  “Yeah. I’m Kerys.”

  Gensch stared at her, hazel eyes unwavering, but also full of sanity. “What’s ninety-four times 206?”

  “Uhh, not sure.” Slow and easy, she tugged her e-pad off her belt and opened a calculator app. “It’s 19,364.”

  Sergeant Gensch chuckled, and lowered his gun.

  “She cheated,” said MacLeod.

  The nameless man put his knives away and swatted at him. “Someone who lost their shit wouldn’t think to use a damn e-pad.” He nodded at her. “Louis Hellerman.”

  “Oh. Right.” MacLeod nodded at Hellerman and relaxed.

  “Guess we’re plus one.” Gensch lowered himself to sit once more. “Have a seat.”

  Kerys eased herself down and rubbed her shoulder. It didn’t feel dislocated, but remained sore. “Wait… Hellerman? Did you hack my quarters for Will Braxton?”

  Hellerman’s smile had too much innocence.

  “You did. Son of a bitch.” She grumbled.

  “Wait… he said you two were gonna get married, but he had to take this job out here. Wanted to surprise you by leavin’ a ring in your room. I, uhh, didn’t think it, umm….”

  “He can be quite convincing.” She frowned. “For the record, I was on the verge of being willing to marry him, but he had a fatal case of asshole. Stalked me for months.”

  “Oh, shit.” Hellerman scratched at his hair. “Sorry. I had no idea.”

  Sergeant Gensch shrugged. “Sounds like a complaint for HR, but I think they’re kinda busy at the moment.”

  “So, uhh… what’s going on?” She glanced at the barricade.

  “Bunch of Gensch’s former buddies decided to do a sweep and clear.” MacLeod pointed
out bullet gouges on the walls around them. “Made a last stand here.”

  Two assault rifles lay on the floor behind him, likely out of ammo.

  Kerys worked her leg back and forth, trying to get her hip to stop hurting. “I meant everything.”

  “Beats me. The crew all hopped the same shuttle to planet batshit.” Sergeant Gensch took a long pull from a vape inhaler. “Most of my people are dead, some are missing, and I can’t get a response from the captain.”

  “You won’t. Chen’s dead.” Kerys shivered at the memory. “She shot herself.”

  MacLeod took a grey plastic packet from a box and tossed it to her. “Hungry?”

  “Not really, but I should probably eat something… it’s been at least a day. Please don’t be any form of steak.”

  Gensch gave her a pointed look.

  “Ellen Vickers. I wound up in that passage to get away from her exo. She tried to climb in behind me, put her hand into something and… zap.”

  Hellerman shook his head. “Aww damn, girl. Shit. What’d you do to ya’self?” He flung himself down with a defeated look on his face.

  “Dammit.” MacLeod grumbled. “I hope she didn’t overload the primary. If that melted, we’re going to have a real nasty time of it.”

  “Can’t we bypass Bank 1 and filter everything ’round the auxiliary capacitors?” asked Hellerman, his lip quivering.

  “Yeah, but that’s gonna require a lot of crawling into places my ass ain’t fittin’ in.” MacLeod crossed his arms.

  “What are you talking about?” Kerys sucked some vaguely chicken-flavored orange goo from a silver packet.

  “If Ellen broke into a line carrying enough juice to fry her, I’m inclined to believe she ate a rapid discharge from the primary capacitor. Basically,” said MacLeod, “she used up a couple days’ worth of juice in a few seconds. It’d be a miracle if the capacitor units didn’t melt. Everything runs off the external power pod. The dome doesn’t have a reactor of its own―just solar arrays, which aren’t set up.”