Expedition Nereus

by Ilya Martynov

  This was what happened to Jack. The claw ripped a piece of flesh from his leg, continuing through to tear the muscles, skin, and his trousers. Fortunately for Jack, this had helped to free his leg. If Lieutenant Sallenge hadn't been thinking rationally, he certainly would have been the predator's dinner. The claws themselves resembled an advanced tongue, helping the Lieutenant come up with the Pilertongue moniker. The claws which the creature had lost were its main means of hunting. No matter how strange it seemed, Jack pitied the poor beast who would never be able to hunt again, likely dying soon from hunger. The huge animal's life depended on the thin tool that had emerged through evolution for hunting.

  The laws of nature worked no differently on Nereus as with Jack's home planet. Animals competed with one another, developing sophisticated ways to find food. The pilertongue was neither good nor bad. It just followed its natural instincts. Possibly the animal hadn’t intended to attack him, and it only held on to the officer out of the fear of meeting an unknown creature. Jack was a strange alien to the pilertongue, just as the pilertongue was to Jack. A few days later after the incident, the Lieutenant gradually forgot about the incident.

  38

  Looking through the panoramic windows, Jack noticed from time to time the pack of wartstones passing by, accompanied by baby Amigo. Jack had learned to easily distinguish his friend from the other wartstones by paying attention to the darker color of warts on its skin. Amigo sometimes stopped right in front of the door, pawing at the entrance, before lazily waving its thin tail and leaving to follow the rest of its pack members. Jack had no strength to go outside. He needed to some time alone to rest and recover.

  A few days later, Jack went to check on his airbike and also glance at the list of tasks from the Avant Light.

  The screen read "Task 284 is incomplete. No new tasks in the database."

  Jack opened the cargo compartment only to have the smell of decay assail his nose. The plant specimens had started decomposing without proper storage conditions. There was no point in putting these plants through quarantine. Tossing the plants, Jack then removed the pieces of rock and took them to the mineral container for quarantine.

  Stricken with grief, the officer realized there were no more tasks from the Avant Light for him. Not only had he finished his own workplan, but he had successfully carried out all the tasks of his deceased crew members.

  Jack cleaned the airbike's cargo compartment as much as he could to eliminate what remained of the half-rotten plants by applying some absorbent gel. A few seconds later, he wiped up the congealed gel and placed it in the transparent cylindrical container with self-cleaning liquid. The bits and pieces of rotten plants accumulated on the bottom. A couple more seconds passed, and Jack saw the accumulation form small balls, dropping through the bottom of the container to the ground. The cargo compartment of the aircraft was shining almost like new with no stench remaining.

  The next morning, Jack started the day with fried egg whites and pressed seaweed. Sitting in the glass house and chewing on seaweed, Jack suddenly felt as though he had been living like this all his life. It was as if his entire life had passed by the same way day after day. Every day he would get up early and watch the orange-yellow sunrise radiating across the sky. Then he would get on his airbike and do his job, for which he was rewarded with food and drink. In the evenings, his pet Amigo greeted him, and after playing with him, Jack would train his mind by studying the local environment.

  His life was almost similar to the one he led on Earth. But something was missing in this idyllic lifestyle, and he couldn't quite put his finger on it. It was on the edge of his mind, just perched there, ready to make itself known, but it never did. It crawled to the surface of the bottomless depths of his subconscious, yet Jack was afraid to confess to himself that he was missing it. Sitting at the table, he suddenly saw Gladys sitting down next to him. Propping up her chin with her right arm, she smiled gently and leaned forward to give Jack a peck on the forehead. She ran her soft hand through Jack's hair, her warm lips pressed against his, gifting Jack a pleasant kiss. He sat, his eyes closed, with no memory of joy. This mosaic of a perfect life in his own home was totally imaginary. He had everything he needed to lead a joyous and fulfilling life.

  Jack's eyes opened, a single heavy teardrop rolling down his cheek. He realized his mind had started hallucinating. The soft morning light only strengthened the effect of such visions. Jack wanted the memory of Gladys' kiss to remain on his lips as long as possible. His mind, though, propelled him to long-forgotten memories.

  There was a girl standing with her back to him on a green lawn in the bright sun in front of a house. Her hair was let down and she was wearing a beige dress. He knew who she was, but he couldn't see her face. According to the rules, he could ask her questions, and she should answer them in a calm and smooth voice. His task included guessing her opinion on the question and if she was telling the truth or not. Without being able to see the other person's expressions, it was incredibly hard to guess if they were lying or not, or if they were worried or calm. But Jack didn't need to see her face to understand this. He had learned Gladys' mannerisms so well over all those years that her back would reveal more to him than a thousand faces. He asked her some strange and incoherent questions.

  "What are you doing here? It's morning now, right? Are we still together?" She answers, sometimes calmly laughing, unable to stand the awkwardness anymore. Finally, he asks the next question.

  "Are you happy?"

  But he gets no answer.

  Jack repeats his question, in a more worried tone, but gets no answer again. She is sitting silent, motionless. Something made her turn into stone from the inside.

  A pale-yellow Labrador runs up and starts licking her cheek. She tries to wave off from him in order to continue the game, but her efforts are in vain. The dog jumps up on her knees and licks her face and hair. Jack can't see this, but he knows that's how it happens.

  "Why are you silent?" Jack asks.

  She continues trying to wave away the labrador's tongue, but she still gives no answer. The dog stops licking her and places its head on her lap.

  "Gladys, answer me. Why are you quiet?"

  She turns her head, and the Labrador jumps up to its feet.

  "Because you are responsible for my happiness... responsible, responsible..."

  Suddenly everything vanishes from Jack's mind.

  39

  "First Lieutenant Jack Sallenge. Do you read? Over." A stern female voice shattered the bright, vibrant, and rich image of an Earthly day, transporting Jack back into the glass pavilion on the unpopulated alien planet.

  He could hear the clear sound of a calm, commanding female voice from the teleport. And these were not hallucinations.

  Jack turned to the teleport and activated the 3-D image broadcasting sensor.

  The head and shoulders of a woman with stern facial features appeared in the teleport.

  "Copy. This is First lieutenant Jack Sallenge. Over. Signal is good with no delay," Jack replied, scarcely believing his eyes and ears.

  "First Lieutenant Jack Sallenge. This is Director of Intergalactic Missions, Linda Robore, speaking."

  "Yes, ma'am."

  A thought flashed through Jack's head: "What the hell? Where's Norwell? Did everything really change so fast?"

  "Jack..." Confused about what she should say, Linda continued, "We...we know how hard it must be for you now.”

  "You don't know a damn thing," Jack's mind retorted.

  "I was informed that all the crew members died. We will need those details for the report," the stern woman, whose face had a pointed chin and sharp nose, stated dryly.

  "Not everyone died. One survived. What stupid report? Which details?" Jack's head started throbbing.

  "Pull yourself together and report the main details so that we can match it with the data we have. We are still establishing contact with the Avant Light using the teleport."

  "Copy," Jack responded
automatically, before adding, "Ma'am, I don't know much information about how the others died."

  "Lieutenant Sallenge, this is a formal procedure. We need your statement. Just tell me what you know. We don't need anything else."

  "Yes, ma'am. But may I ask you one more question?" Jack asked, still perplexed.

  "Yes, Lieutenant."

  "Do you play on getting me out of here?"

  "That depends on what you can tell us," Linda replied, her mouth forming a thin, revolting smile. Unamused, she continued, "Don't think we want to leave you there. We can't figure out yet what happened to your equipment. We're looking into those issues."

  His question answered, Jack recounted the entire chain of events starting from when Captain Graham's shuttle exploded. Then he momentarily got hung up at voicing his surprise that the Agency had been out of contact for so long. Realizing this was his chance for salvation, he decided to tell everything as detailed as possible.

  "We entered orbit July 9th. On July 11th, at 6:20 am, we begin prepping for shuttle landing," Jack reported.

  He talked for a long time, sometimes glancing downwards as he searched his memory for every shred of detail. From time to time, Linda Robore's eyebrows raised, but aside from that, Jack didn't detect any other changes in her facial expression. Her face remained a solid stone throughout the whole tale. Her lips remained thin, and her eyes slanted. When he reached the point in the tale when Anne died, Jack hesitated, wondering how he could phrase it, but he thought of nothing other than what followed.

  "Colonel Anne Petrow died around 9:00 am in my arms due to her heavy injuries..." he halted, a lump forming in his throat. It was difficult for him to retell the events of that morning, but he pulled himself together, finishing, "...because of her heavy injuries that she received during the landing," he ended.

  "Go on, Lieutenant."

  "I've told you everything."

  "That's it!?" Linda Robore asked, confused, her thin eyebrows raising.

  "Yes, ma'am. That's everything."

  "What's next? Why haven't you been in contact for so long?"

  "I tried to establish contact through the teleportation connector. I don't have any other long-range communication devices."

  "I wonder why you haven't been in contact?" This furious thought raged in Jack's mind.

  He wanted to shout, but the lieutenant recalled his promise to Anne about following orders. He gritted his teeth and smiled, although it looked more like a grimace.

  "Okay, Lieutenant," Linda concluded the officer wasn't keen on being nice so she quickly switched topics. "Did you manage to accomplish any planned missions on Nereus?"

  "Yes, ma'am. I completed almost everything that the Avant Light's computer assigned me as per orders.

  "Everything?" Her eyebrows raised again incredulously.

  "Yes, ma'am, except for 284... it's incomplete due to receiving an injury after an encounter with a local animal."

  "You mean to say you finished nearly all the mission's tasks!?" Linda Robore repeated, surprised. "Good job. That's good news for us."

  It seemed that her face brightened up.

  "Yes, ma'am, except for 284, which isn't..."

  "Understood." The mask of indifference returned to her face. "What about your provisions?"

  "Hmmm, I have..." Jack was confused, unsure what to answer. He wanted some support from Earth, but he knew if he told them he had established his own independent line of production, they would send him nothing. "I've got enough protein packs for 11 days. Same for water."

  Jack lied. He had enough water for a month. The fruit helped him replenish some of the liquid stores.

  "So, in 11 days, we must send you additional food and water supplies. Did I read you loud and clear?"

  "Yes, ma'am."

  "Then prepare some surrogate material for teleportation."

  "How much?"

  "We should manage to send you 400 kilograms of provisions. But that's not everything. What about your equipment? Is it possible to construct another building? Can industrial facilities be supported?"

  "I'm not qualified enough for this field to make an assessment, ma'am. But as far as I can tell, the equipment works properly. The research equipment seems in working order."

  "Good. What about the robot-helpers?"

  "The caterpillar Trapecrawler 2188 A was damaged. An unknown creature at the time attacked it and destroyed its central motherboard."

  "Jack, I don't read you. Confirm..."

  "Yes, ma'am."

  "Confirm what you've just said."

  "Trapecrawler 2188 A was damaged due to an attack by an unknown creature."

  "Lieutenant, Nereus isn't inhabited by creatures that can damage such a reliable and durable robot," Robore snapped back.

  "Ma'am, the probes didn't send any data."

  "Lieutenant, the Center possesses sufficient detailed data. Send me images of the robot's damage. Our specialists will evaluate them and decide what to do next."

  "Yes, ma'am."

  "And might I remind you to never send questionable data to the Center. Such an action is punishable by law," she tilted her head and stared at Jack's eyes.

  Jack felt that his new boss was literally present with him. If she had been, he never could have resisted the temptation to pull hard on her hair. He imagined a scene where Linda fell backwards, landing hard on the floor, shouting obscenities.

  In the end, Jack decided not to object to her comment since he understood it was useless. Instead, he hoped that he'd be sent the necessary parts to repair Trape, whose help he sorely lacked and needed.

  "In the next 11 days, the Supplies Department will contact you and send all necessary provisions and water. From now on, you're to follow the Center's orders again. Do you copy, Lieutenant?"

  "Copy, ma'am. The Supplies Department will contact me. I'm to follow the Center's orders."

  "All the orders and commands will be delivered by me personally. Copy?"

  "Yes, ma'am. All orders and commands are from you personally."

  "We're adjusting your mission. Within the next few days, I will contact you and give you further instructions."

  "Yes, ma'am. Copy that."

  "Jack," she gave him another thin, nasty smile. "You don't need to hold out for much longer." Although her voice had softened to the point of being friendly, Jack was just about ready to hurl something at the teleport. "We will think of something. Over and out."

  The image in the center of teleport slowly faded away.

  "What the hell is going on there?" Jack's thoughts flowed out. "Where's Norwell? Who's that woman? Why are there no other Supplies Department members? Do they even care?"

  He remained vexed for another hour until his fury also faded away to be replaced by a more composed line of thinking. Generally speaking, it was a good start of the day. Now that the Center had reestablished contact, they would do so with the Avant Light and provide him with new food and water. He would no longer experience supply shortages. Thinking about the situation, he went over the plan of action for the next few days. Since he was to follow the Center's orders, he would manage himself without the computer monitoring his every action or controlling every flight.

  Jack didn't know if he should be happy or not about it. Everything had been clear and understandable under the Avant Light's direction. Now he could only guess what awaited him once he commenced working efforts with the new Missions Director. For the next 11 days, Jack resolved to not stray too far from the pavilion on the off chance the Center might contact him.

  Strolling around the pavilion that had been home to not just him but also Anne, Jack recalled that Colonel Petrow had left something special for him. His hands trembling, he extracted a few info-lines from the container with Anne's personal belongings. One of them had her personal memories and notes. He opened one of the audio files at random from the middle of the list.

  "Day 426 of the Expedition..." Anne's voice filled the pavilion, causing Jack to flinch. Her
voice sounded so clear and distinct that it seemed like she had cloned herself a thousand times, and now all her clones were speaking. "We've made the first leap at superluminal speed. Repairs took longer than expected. Now we're 1.5 parsecs away from the closest gravitational mass."

  Her voice sounded smooth and patient. During his time on Nereus, Jack had already managed to lose the habit of hearing such an intonation.

  "The Captain says we must be ready for such difficulties. Generally speaking, I agree with him. Some of the equipment is obsolete," she paused. Jack held his breath as if he thought breathing would make him miss something important. "Alan is panicking as usual. He always makes a big deal out of everything. He might be an adult, but he acts more like an overgrown baby. I'm trying to calm him down. Panic is the last thing we need. We have real children on board."

  Jack grinned, guessing Anne was referring to him.

  "I hope I'll be able to calm Alan down," she said, a heavy sigh echoing in the pavilion.

  She used to breathe like this during the last days of her life.

  "I know that he's an open person, but that doesn't justify his behavior. We have our orders," Anne continued.

  Memories of Alan popped up in Jack's mind. They rarely chatted, but sometimes Alan seemed too frank for Jack.

  Long before Jack arrived on board, he knew that some well-known aeronaut would be on their team. Jack didn't know much about him though. Just that he sometimes gave talks about going on flights to other planets for large audiences. Sam's dad mentioned that without Alan, the chances of getting permission for the flight were remote.