Wayfarer: AV494

by Matthew S. Cox

  At some point in her high school days, she’d spent futile hours searching for her father online before finally accepting his abandoning them hadn’t been her fault. More likely, the man couldn’t stand Mom.

  Kerys couldn’t stand her either.

  I don’t even know if he’s alive. She sniffled. Maybe he’s still out there. Oh, stop. I haven’t been able to find him before. Not like he’d show up out of thin air if I make it out of here, but I can’t leave Jaden alone with The Manager. He’s too laid back. That’s gotta be driving her nuts. It’s only going to get worse when he gets older. She’s gonna give him the same routine, and he’s going to rebel.

  “Oh, why not go for xenoarchaeology?,” she said to no one in a bright, cheery tone. “You like that alien stuff. And, it’s a small field. Easy to get noticed.” Easy to get dead.

  She leaned forward and grasped Sergeant Gensch’s lukewarm hand. “Okay. One last favor right? Get the hell off this rock. I’ll give it everything I have. Watch my back, okay?” She set his arm on his leg as if he’d merely sat on the floor to take a break. “Bye…”

  Another wave of tears came and went when she picked up his dog tags. A few breaths later, she gathered her tattered scraps of composure, forced herself to stand, and trudged along the walkway over the reservoir back to the ladder.

  Kerys climbed, ascending a shaft of pure darkness. No light leaked in around the trapdoor at the top, nor did the weak glow of the reservoir chamber LED lamps help. Every two rungs, she paused, reaching over her head so she didn’t bash her skull on steel. Eventually, her fingertips met something solid overhead. Kerys climbed another rung and pushed, but the trapdoor had no give whatsoever. She felt around until she located a wheel in the middle, which refused to budge when she tried to turn it. With her legs braced on the ladder, she grabbed it with both hands, grunting and straining.

  She fought until she ran out of strength, and grabbed the ladder to catch her breath.

  “Shit! Did he lock it? Or am I just that weak?”

  Again she tried, this time trying to turn it the other way. She twisted with her entire body, shoes squeaking on the ladder, but she may as well have been attempting to bend stone.

  “No… no… no goddamned way.” She thought of shooting it out, but decided against eating a ricochet. “Don’t panic. Gina’s still out there… and she’s on the third floor. She’ll never hear me down here.”

  Twice more, she strained until her arms felt like rubber, to no effect. She climbed down and sat on the walkway with her back against the ladder, listening to the soft lapping of water against the stone beneath her. A part of her wanted to call Gensch a bastard for whatever he did, but she knew it hadn’t been really him. That grunt he made… He just tightened it as hard as he could.

  Struggling to open an over-tightened mechanism would’ve been hard enough if she could see it. She had no idea which way to spin the wheel; all her effort could’ve been making it worse.

  “Shit!” she shouted, her voice echoing over itself a few times before fading to the chirp of soft, continuous dripping.

  “Least I won’t go thirsty.”

  She thought for a while, until the dripping water became maddening.

  “Okay. I’m going to go crazy down here.”

  Doctor Sekhar had told her not to go swimming in it. The idea got her laughing, but she stopped in seconds. He also said there’s a tunnel to the hydroponics pod!

  Kerys bounded to her feet. Again, she walked over the reservoir, this time studying the ceiling for any openings. Gensch remained as she had left him, and she continued on by, muttering another farewell. The metal walkway stopped to plain rock about thirty paces from his body. A short distance ahead, the passage narrowed from the width of the reservoir chamber down to a cramped hallway. Dark grey silt on the walls reminded her of the thrill she’d gotten during the first few hours her team had spent in the alien site. She choked up, but forced her way out from under grief and pressed onward.

  Feeble lights continued ahead, every ten feet, illuminating a passageway she’d have nightmares about for the rest of her life.

  “Whoa, it’s creepy down here.”

  Minutes later, a bend emerged from the murk up ahead. The air took on a strong earthen smell, tinged with chemical and sulphur. She walked faster, not trusting her eyes for making her think the distant wall reflected light. The closer she got, the brighter the glare became, pulling her up to a run. She raced around the curve and stopped short at the sight of a ladder standing between two massive control panels full of knobs and glowing lights. Shelves on the right held various bits of pipe fitting, large tools, and plastic boxes of smaller parts like fuses.

  “Yes!”

  Kerys darted the length of the spur and jumped on the ladder, peering up at an open hatch from which bright light rained down. The stink got worse, but she didn’t care, hauling herself up as fast as she could make her limbs move.

  She emerged from a hole cut in a plate of red-painted metal, set in the floor of a storage chamber stocked with enormous plastic tanks and shelves upon shelves of briefcase-sized plastiboard boxes. The huge tanks all held dark liquid and bore the label ‘Base Fluid - Growth Medium.’

  This has to be hydroponics. Whee! I know where I am.

  One door at the other end of the closet beckoned her. Kerys crept around the rows of tanks and shelves to the only exit from the storage room. A small, square window confirmed her suspicion as she peered out over the hydroponic tanks full of vegetables and meat slabs.

  “Crap. I don’t know how to run any of this equipment. We’re going to have to harvest anything that looks ‘done,’ and either freeze it or… ugh.”

  She mashed the button on the wall, and the door slid open with a soft hiss. To her surprise, the air outside the storage room stank less. This place almost knocked me on my ass the first time. Guess it’s way worse in the closet.

  Scratching in the distance among tanks slowed her eager stride to a cautious creep.

  Kerys pulled the gun out of her pocket and lowered her stance enough so her head didn’t peek over the top of the tanks. Someone’s here… The vats stood in a grid formation. Eight rows at the westernmost end all held meat lumps in various stages from tiny buds the size of acorns to three-foot-long slabs of beef, chicken, pork, and fish. Each tank had an attached platform even with the top, accessible by narrow metal stairs.

  A patch of blood on the ground between the tenth and eleventh rows set the hairs on the back of her neck on end. Her feet squished in her waterlogged shoes, seeming as loud as gunfire. She cringed, shortening her steps. Damp cloth clung to her body, muting the overwhelming heat of the greenhouse.

  The scratching came again from up ahead, though the way it echoed blurred direction. She aimed around, but spotted nothing moving. A tank farther ahead on the right drew pause, as the liquid inside appeared too dark. Aiming at it, she crept closer, and regretted looking.

  Bodies floated in the growth medium. A man’s face mushed against the glass at the end, mouth agape. An arm draped over the edge about halfway. More blood spattered the outsides of other tanks in the vicinity.

  A few seconds later, the smell hit her.

  Ugh!

  She looked away, burying her face in the crook of her elbow and running for the exit. She caught a glimpse of a bloated dead woman in a tank on the left, and bit back the urge to vomit.

  “Gotcha!” shouted a man.

  Kerys let off a startled scream as a figure in a blood-spattered yellow jumpsuit sprang off a platform above her. She got her hands up, somewhat catching him as they collided, the impact slamming her into the side of a tank with a resounding boom. Softball-sized potatoes inside wobbled around.

  He snarled, glaring into her eyes, his mangled nose an inch away from hers. The man looked as though he’d tried to tongue-kiss a shotgun. Most of his cheeks had been reduced to a seeping, tattered ruin.

  “You’re starving. You need to grow!” The wild-eyed man’s facial mus
cles twitched, likely an attempt to grin. He grabbed her by the arms, dragging her toward the metal stairs leading to the top of the tank.

  She struggled, her shoes slipping in a puddle of liquid. The man bore down on her, three shards of glass embedded in his face pressing closer as he dragged her to the side. Kerys cringed away from the bloody, tattered skin. She fought to get away from his grasp, but he overpowered her with ease. Desperate, she tilted her right hand inward and pulled the trigger.

  A blast of gore flew out of his left shin. Shrieking in agony, he hurled her to the side.

  Kerys landed hard on her back atop the stairs; the pain of metal edges jabbing into her skin along the length of her body paralyzed her. Her gun slipped out of her grip, bounced off a step, and fell between them to the floor under the stairway. The man pounced on her before she could will herself to move, seizing two fistfuls of jumpsuit, and hauling her up onto the platform.

  He tossed her to the edge, draping her over the side and plunging her up to the armpits in syrupy fluid that tasted like dirt mixed with sweaty socks. Kerys gagged, scrambling to spit the fetid chemicals out of her mouth. Fingers tightened at the base of her neck, holding her under. She flailed and kicked, forcing the man to stumble to the right. She grabbed the platform edge, shoving with all her strength, and got her face out long enough to gulp a quick breath before he growled and shoved her down again.

  A previously unnoticed cut on her lip flared up with pain like she’d kissed a hot soldering iron. Precious air leaked into bubbles with her scream. She scrabbled at the tank wall, trying to push herself out, but couldn’t overpower him.

  The more she fought, the worse the cut on her lip burned―but it gave her an idea.

  She splashed and slapped at the growth medium, trying to throw it on his shredded face. Seconds before consciousness left her, the man abandoned his grip on her neck. She shoved herself up out of the liquid, gagging and choking, to the sound of horrible wailing.

  The slap of a body hitting the floor interrupted the agonized shrieking for only a second.

  Kerys retched, crawling away from the tank on her hands and knees atop the narrow metal platform. She alternated spitting to the side and gasping for breath. The syrupy growth liquid streamed off her chin and nose. Her body wanted to vomit, but had nothing to get rid of. After the convulsions subsided, she peered over the side at the floor five feet down. The man writhed, clawing at his face, screaming with such intensity she almost felt bad for splashing him.

  She grasped the middle railing and slid off the ledge, lowering herself to her feet. The man kicked at the air, howling, his voice growing hoarse and as tattered as his face. She wiped at her burning lip, cringing at the thought of what that liquid had to feel like on such a massive wound.

  Kerys ducked to retrieve the gun from under the stairs, aimed, and shot him in the chest. The man went still and silent. She backed up two steps, staring at the body. Once certain he’d stopped breathing, she sprinted to the packing room.

  “Okay, so maybe we’ll try to get by on Hydra rations. No way am I eating anything in here now.”

  In her best attempt to mimic how Sergeant Gensch had ‘military walked’ down the corridors and hallways of Wayfarer Outpost, Kerys crept along the tunnel linking the hydroponics pod to the dome, and headed for her quarters.

  She snuck past the door to Residence Pod 1, which had been left open, revealing a hallway strewn with bodies. Most appeared to have been shot, though one man had a combat knife sticking out of his head.

  Kerys paused, aiming into the hall. “Anyone in there and still sane?”

  A woman’s cackling laughter erupted from deep within. Soon, a possibly-Chinese woman in a white jumpsuit stained with bloody handprints and smears emerged from a room. More blood leaked from her mouth―the apparent source a hunk of raw, human meat in her left hand.

  “You’re not sane, are you?”

  The former medic laughed. “Sane? No, I’m Mai. You hungry? There’s plenty. Better eat it before it spoils.”

  She pointed the gun at Mai. “Are you going to try and kill me?”

  “Umm.” The woman tilted her head side to side, and got into a discussion with several nonexistent people about if it would be a good idea to ‘kill that girl’ or not since they had a ‘full fridge’ already.

  Kerys shot her in the head.

  Mai collapsed with a soft thump.

  “Sorry.”

  Kerys resumed her attempt at a tactical walk on the way back into Residence Pod 2. Nothing appeared to have changed since she fled Private Foster’s ambush, which made her feel a little safer that no one alive had been back since. She headed up the ladder to the second floor, raced to her room, and locked the door behind her.

  An overwhelming blast of lavender/peachy fragrance hit her, but compared to the hydroponics room, she welcomed it. Her nose and sinuses tingled after a few breaths as if she’d sniffed strong mint oil. She disregarded the sensation and kicked off her shoes before peeling away the bloodstained, torn, soaked-in-nasty-growth-medium jumpsuit, and dropping it to the floor with a splat.

  I am not putting on in an e-suit with that mess.

  Off came her soaked underwear.

  She grabbed a fresh pair of panties and a sports bra as well as a clean blue jumpsuit from her closet, then scurried the twenty feet to the women’s room naked, carrying clothes in one hand and the gun in the other. She looked away from Paula still lying on the floor, and tried not to notice the smell hanging in the air while rushing a shower to get the stickiness of the growth tank off her skin and out of her hair. Still wet and dripping, she walked to the farthest sink possible from Paula and brushed her teeth to purge the taste of awfulness from her mouth.

  After the second repetition of mouthwash, she examined her face in the mirror. Based on the amount of pain she felt while dunked in the tank, she expected a huge gash in her lip, and blinked in disbelief at a small split where Gensch had smacked her in the face with the gun.

  Pleased at not needing to visit the infirmary for stitches, she got dressed and padded back to her room for clean socks and dry shoes. Refusing to sit down or become idle, lest she continue dwelling on Gensch, she jogged out, intent on returning to the command area on the second floor to find Gina. Having fired a gun three times between two shots in the hydroponic pod and putting Mai out of her misery, she figured if anyone else had been alive (and crazy), they’d have come hunting after hearing the blasts. Abandoning caution, she ran.

  Kerys reached the command room a few minutes later, finding only Gensch’s unfinished coffee―and no sign of Gina. She scowled at the mug. Damn this place. I wish I’d never come here.

  “Gina?”

  Silence.

  She sighed.

  Transmitter array time.

  After grabbing her e-pad from the desk and stuffing it in her pocket, she returned to the ready room by the garage airlock and climbed into her e-suit. Eerie silence got under her skin. The rattling of the rigid suit seemed to echo down every corridor. She froze, contemplating being alone in this place for six months.

  I’ve got movies to watch, and Jaden’s messages. I can still talk to him.

  She sighed, putting the loneliness out of her mind for now. After wriggling around like a bear trying to scratch its back against a tree, she secured the clamps and got the helmet on. Maybe in four months, I’ll trust that I really am the only one left. She sighed. Gina looked so damn terrified. Please just be hiding.

  The e-suit gloves made handling the pistol a little tricky, but still well within the realm of doable. She found a holster in Guillen’s locker and clipped it to her belt. E-pad in hand, she went to the airlock. Ignoring the quad, she walked out of the garage, heading for the north face of the dome where the schematics had shown a way up to the top.

  Sure enough, a ladder enclosed by a cage-like guard ran up the side to the cluster of equipment and vertical rods she’d been staring at for hours on a screen. She didn’t bother ‘logging in’ to t
he communication channel, leaving the blank [login] line alone. No other names appeared, a morbid reminder of how screwed she would be if she didn’t keep her wits.

  Rung by rung, Kerys dragged herself up five stories to a small platform. Two doors on the equipment cabinet for the spacefold transmitter were already open, exposing a rack full of removable modules about the size of notebooks on one side, each with a red or green light under them. Some had blue ends, some orange, some red. The other cabinet had a nest of wires connected sockets in one boxy component to sockets in another around two huge batteries and a main power lead coming up from inside the dome.

  Hmm.

  She’d expected damage, or sparks, or something catastrophic, but the aside from the machinery being open, it looked fine.

  Kerys pulled the diagrams up on her e-pad, comparing the pictures to reality.

  The wires all look like they’re going to the right places. She unplugged and reseated about thirty connectors, making sure none had been loose. Okay, maybe dust just got inside?

  She frowned at the diagram and at the rat’s nest of wiring again. Ten minutes of studying it didn’t make the arrangement look any less exactly the same.

  Okay. Side two.

  Aside from color, the modules more or less matched the picture. After staring at them for another few minutes, she noticed that the diagram had all the blue ones in the same group at the top and about a third of the way into the second row, a swath of orange in the middle, and all the red ones at the bottom. Each module had an indicator light under it, but only six of forty showed green.

  Son of a bitch… someone moved them around on purpose!

  She knelt in front of the cabinet and unplugged all the circuit packs with red lights, stacking them in three piles based on color. Next, she selected a random blue module and plugged it into the first slot. The light remained red, so she moved it one space over. Still red. The seventh slot turned green when she plugged it in.