The Battle For Cyclops: A Xander Cain Novel
Page 24
***
The handgun felt heavy, its large handle and trigger designed for use with a vacuum suit meant it was much larger than the one Mor’Keth had trained with. He barely carried his normal sidearm these days, or at least, he didn’t before the nightmare he had endured. Some of the other crew had taken to carrying their guns openly again after the first sightings. They had been the first to shoot themselves.
He bounced forward with each step, the gravity had dropped significantly. The engines were well on their way to failing totally. The vacuum suit Mor’Keth had scavenged from its locker was too tight, rubbing awkwardly as he moved. It didn’t matter, the discomfort was a small price to breathe should he stumble into a breached area.
The ship rocked again, metal groaning from deep inside, as if it were feeling a deep throbbing pain. That was the fourth impact Mor’Keth had been able to keep track of. Something was pelting the ship from outside, slamming against the hull. He, like the rest of his crew, had set off into space excited to experience everything they could, the first faster than light explorers of their people. Now he simply didn’t want to know. Curiosity had killed them, a lesson Mor’Keth had taken to heart.
***
Mor’Keth’s fingers squeezed through the small gap, wrapping around the edge of the door. He pulled, grunting as he forced the doorway open. He swallowed, sending vomit back down to where it had originated as he looked at the bloodbath beyond. Corpses floated through the corridor, the gravity finally giving out. Blood pooled in the air from gashes, entrails coiling through the air like thrashing snakes.
He closed his eyes, took a deep breath and gripped both sides of the door frame. He pulled, launching himself with as much force as he could muster. As Mor’Keth flew bodies bounced off his arms, raised up to screen his visor from the loose globules of gore. He grunted again as he struck the doorway at the other end, slamming against its metal. He took a moment to gather his senses and then flicked open the cover to the override.
A red light flashed back at him, a warning over the release switch. Mor’Keth knew the symbol, it had been drummed into his head at every step of his training. Danger, Vacuum beyond. Mor’keth placed his boots on the floor of the corridor, rotating himself slightly to do so, his preconceived notion of up pointless in the zero-g, but comforting none the less. He looked down at the icon in his helmets monitor, sensors within tracking the movements of his eyes. He stared at it for a second, long enough for the simple computer within the helmet to register the click. He had the sudden sensation of being pulled downwards, the magnets in his boots switching on, adhering to the metal floor.
Happy he was secure, Mor’Keth pressed the release. The door slid open, easily, the motors still working, unlike the corridor's entrance. He could feel the air rushing past him, disappearing through whatever breach lay beyond.
Something struck Mor’Keth from behind with a heavy thud. He crouched instinctively, cowering with his hands over his head as the corpse flew past. It was followed swiftly by the others, limbs and entrails colliding with his shaking body.
The barrage over, he stood up, stretching his battered body. Mor’Keth was sure it would bruise later. He turned, just to check nothing else was flying in his direction. It was then he saw it.
***
At the end of the corridor, beyond the doors he had prised open, everything was black. Not just the simple black of the failing lights, but something more. An overwhelming all-encompassing black, a hole in the universe, absorbing all light it touched.
Hanging out of that infernal negative space was a pair of large hands, talons sprouting from each. They were a dark cold grey, ridges rolling along its knuckles like hydraulic pistons powering its deadly machinery. They began to crawl forward, gripping into the metal floor like a baker kneading dough. The cloud of blackness seemed to come with it, edging slowly towards Mor’Keth.
He raised his weapon and fired, light flashing from the end, shell casings silently ejecting from the side, floating slowly away with an odd sort of formality. He fired again, and again, emptying the magazine. The shadow slowed but did not stop, advancing towards him, hands lashing out from within.
Mor’Keth tried instinctively to run, jerking awkwardly as his foot refused to move. He cursed, leaning back on his heel to release the magnetic lock, before swinging his leg around again, the magnet automatically reengaging. He did the same with the other foot, coming about in a strange clockwork motion. He had been drilled, over and over in long boring sessions, using the boots until they felt natural. Now, terror was pushing that training deep down, oppressively crushing it.
“Light screw this,” Mor’Keth whispered to himself, his eyes flicking to the boot icon, disengaging the magnets. He gripped the door frame and pulled, plunging himself into the chamber beyond.
***
Mor’Keth floated there, motionless in the centre of the room. He had brought himself to a stop with a handhold mounted on the ceiling. That creature, that eternal nightmarish black was dragging itself into the room, clambering through the doorway. Mor’Keth didn’t care.
He had found himself in one of the ships shuttle bays. The doors had been torn off, revealing space outside. He stared out at the image beyond. Knowing there and then it was hopeless.
Through the gap in the hull, he could see a graveyard, thousands of dead ships, shards of metal collected together in a think band around the planet before him. Her Radiant Grace’s arrival had sent a ripple through the ring. Each slam against the hull, the gash before him, all were evidence of collisions with the other space-borne corpses.
The planet itself was bizarre. The surface was a dark green, almost black. Much brighter green clouds roiled on the surface, massive storms swirling around each other. It looked almost like an eye, staring directly into Mor’Keth’s soul. This planet, this place, it was despair personified, a nightmare world. He could feel it, looking at him. His people had legends, bogeymen to frighten children. They were nothing compared to the vision before him. It was anguish, fear. It was an eternal blemish on the universe.
Mor’Keth sat there, staring back at the eye, and let the creature take him.
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