Seclurm: Devolution

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Seclurm: Devolution Page 7

by Noah Gallagher


  He chuckled and then explained casually, “Ah, ha, ha. Lilah and I, we’re sort of ‘on break’ while we’re away from each other.”

  “Hmm,” was all Terri answered with as she dried her hands.

  Pretty soon the crew gathered together in the common room. Each of them sat on couches except for Terri and Rosalyn, standing near. The warm light of the room, from lamps and ceiling lights, seemed lower somehow even as they rested on comfortable couches, and the digital fireplace did little to make them feel at home.

  With confidence that she’d done all she could for their captain, Terri leaned against a sofa chair with her hands on its back and said, “Shauna’s condition is stable. She’s looking well.”

  Everyone sighed in relief.

  “I’m still running tests on the liquid she was submerged in, but we can say with certainty that it isn’t doing anything adverse to her vital systems at the moment.”

  Mitchell adjusted in his chair. “So this liquid is in her system still?”

  “Yes. Lots of it. We don’t yet know what it is, and we don’t know when she’ll wake up,” answered Terri, with face stoic and outlook realistic.

  “Well…I don’t know if this is a good time to bring this up, but with Beele unable to make decisions, we need someone to take her place for a while. Do we have a second-in-command?”

  Motionless, Terri glanced at Rosalyn.

  Mitchell started. “Oh geez, I forgot. Right, yeah. Uh, Captain Pulman. I’ve…never seen this happen since I’ve worked here.”

  “Me neither,” Rosalyn said with arms crossed. “But it’s what we have to do.”

  “So what are we deciding, here, exactly?” Randy asked, leaning back in his sofa chair. He let his hands rest on the back of his head. “Where do we go from here? What are our options now?”

  Rosalyn took a few steps into the center of the room, towards one of the televisions. “Before we decide anything, let me bring you and Terri up to speed.” She tapped some buttons and pulled up the spacesuit footage of Sam and Shauna, showing them the highlights. Randy and Terri stared at the shelled creatures with shock, and everyone was cast down at the loss of the mining rover.

  In disbelief Randy quipped, “So our options are what, stay here where there are piles of acid snails that eat up our mining equipment and rooms that drown you in muck, or else go back home now with nothing to show for it?”

  Quite a point he had. No one spoke for a moment.

  “Have you contacted FAER yet?” Mitchell asked Rosalyn.

  “Yeah, I just sent them an update.” With the Novara’s great distance from home, it would be some time before they would hear a response.

  She had also sent something else…a video she never expected she would actually send. It was now in FAER’s keeping, just in case.

  Randy started leaning forward, more concerned now. “So what do we do?”

  All eyes were on Rosalyn. With leather coat-wrapped arms folded she said, “Standard protocol in a situation like this is to run with our job as we’ve agreed to, unless there is a life-threatening emergency.”

  Sam took a deep breath. “So, is this not a life-threatening emergency?”

  “That’s what I’m trying to decide. I feel it is. But FAER might not see it that way.”

  There were several groans and rolled eyes.

  Al suddenly spoke up. “Does it really matter what they see it as? We’ve already got a good haul of minerals from our last couple runs. Those places were different. I think if we show them this footage, they’ll understand that.”

  “And if they don’t?” asked Randy.

  “We tell them to send more equipment next time.”

  Rosalyn’s countenance fell. “And they’ll take it out of our pocket,” she said plainly.

  “What are you talking about?”

  For a silent moment, Rosalyn stared into space with a grimace, wishing as she had before that their superiors had never sent them to this planetoid. Her instincts had, apparently, been correct, as painful as that was now.

  Sam chimed in and explained to Randy and everybody else, “Under our contract we have to carry out the job we agreed to. 730-X Zacuali is part of the deal. As Rosalyn said, unless there is a clear life-threatening emergency, we may forfeit most or all of our earnings to offset FAER’s revenue lost because we chose to leave early.”

  Hearing that, Al sat back in his chair and stewed in frustration. “I’d like to talk to them,” he muttered.

  “This seems pretty life-threatening to me,” said Randy. He gestured to Rosalyn. “We’re literally on our second captain.”

  Rosalyn bit her lip. “We will talk to them. Don’t worry. But…I just want to prepare you. It’s possible that they may see our situation as being well enough under control now that Shauna’s stabilized.”

  Al snapped, “They’d rather have us stay here to make them some more cash than get back home where Shauna can be treated?”

  Mitchell said softly, “You know FAER.”

  Terri shook her head. “The amount of time it takes to get back, it doesn’t matter if we stay or leave now or in a few days—she’ll have to be treated on this ship either way.”

  Mitchell cupped his hands together. “We could send her in the cryo-pod.”

  “Yeah, but that’s really more for known illnesses, not possible alien contaminants. No point in wasting a cryo-pod if we aren’t even sure they can save her when she reaches home.”

  Al rubbed his squarish forehead. “Alright, well, what if there’s nothing else to find here? I mean, we’ve already lost our best mining rover, which is basically gonna cut our efficiency in half.”

  Rosalyn nodded. “Oh, absolutely. If there’s nothing else to mine, our job is done. And we only have so much fuel, of course. But to satisfy the contract they may want us to get more information or footage of the alien ruins while we’re here to make sure we’ve determined there’s nothing to mine. Again, to make use of the millions of dollars it took to get us here.

  “But with this new development of the discovery of these ruins, I can’t predict what FAER will say or want us to do.”

  After a short silence Sam asked, “What are you thinking we should do, then, Captain?”

  Their stares felt like all the distant stars in space converging on her, and she struggled to stand tall. She felt at the rough texture of her jacket as she said, “We’ll wait for a final word from FAER, but while we’re waiting, we’ll do some more radar tests and try to get a better look at what’s in this place before sending anybody in there again. I don’t want anyone else getting hurt like Shauna was. I asked SNTNL to start testing the black liquid that Shauna was submerged in, so the results that come from that will also inform our decision-making. I don’t know what’s happened to her exactly, but my gut tells me that it isn’t good. I only hope FAER sees it the way we do. Oh, and Terri, when you’re not doing anything else, I want Shauna constantly monitored. Is all that clear with everyone?”

  Everybody nodded affirmative, and the collective bitterness about the contract seemed to settle. It was somewhat less raw, something they could deal with.

  “Great. Now…anyone want to join me for dinner?” she said as she cracked her knuckles.

  It was high time they got their minds off of life imperilment and got back to business as usual. The others voiced their affirmation and everybody went to gather at the dining area. As they sat down in their seats at the table, Shauna’s absence was all-too evident.

  Some tiredness came over the crewmates as Mitchell and Randy returned with dinner trays and serving containers of roast beef, mashed potatoes, and gravy, all of it rehydrated. Each of them served themselves, grateful to be graced with the scent of decent comfort food.

  “I feel a little bad for having the best meal when Shauna’s incapacitated,” Mitchell said as he loaded up a tray with food.

  “First we stole her position, then her dinner,” Terri mused with only the tiniest smile. It seemed disingenuous.

/>   “I’d rather she be here,” Rosalyn said, hints of despondency on her voice.

  Randy took a salt shaker and sprinkled it over his food. Then he held the shaker up in a showy manner. “Allow me to illustrate our current situation. This salt shaker is the Novara.” He sprinkled a bit of salt into his hand. “This is all the valuable minerals we find everywhere we go.” He gestured to his plate of food as he dropped the salt onto it. “And that is our dear employers. You’ll notice that the valuable minerals get absorbed and eaten, and the salt shaker remains a salt shaker.”

  There were some chuckles from the crewmates, though that was probably due to some desperation for levity. Al grinned and asked, “And what’s NASA in this analogy?”

  Randy replied, “You’ve got a copy of Spaceballs in your computer files somewhere, right?”

  Rosalyn stifled a smirk amid the laughter and continuing jokes. Now she was their direct link to their superiors at FAER, directly responsible for everything that happened during this multi-million dollar operation. If only her family could see her now. Still, somehow Rosalyn felt better about her new role, less overwhelmed, and more ready to make things happen.

  But until she heard back from FAER, and until she knew what that substance was that was in Shauna’s system, she wouldn’t feel entirely at ease.

  5

  Each of them that night slipped into an uneasy sleep, most fearing the worst, wanting nothing more than to hear word from their superiors at the Foundation for Astronautical and Extraterrestrial Research. They had done plenty more extraterrestrial research than they had expected to do, and that unsettled feeling they had about the underground ruins was not going away, as if setting foot in it even briefly had tainted them. Not a soul among them had great desires to remain there with what little resources they had. Certainly if they’d had a team of experts with them and were prepared to deal with the unknown and avoid further catastrophe, they would be excited to see what things they could find, returning as heroes for being the first to discover alien life. If only they had the tools even just to carry one of the shelled aliens back to earth. As it now stood, it felt like suicide to keep venturing down into that place. The only things of note they’d found so far were nothing at all like the valuable minerals they originally sought after, and they all seemed very nearly lethal to boot.

  The last leg of this trip wasn’t turning out well. Those who would eventually be hired by FAER to make a return trip here would certainly see more success than these seven, Rosalyn couldn’t help but think. It was disappointing, but also comforting in a real way: their part in this strange and overwhelming experience was likely to come to a close. The more she had thought about it, the more Rosalyn was sure FAER would see reason and require very little of the crew of the Novara for the remainder of their time here—perhaps some light scouting at most.

  Even with their captain unconscious in the medical bay, they were starting to feel a sense of control again, and the idea of staying to do more searching, even without their precious mining rover, wasn’t looking as daunting as it had prior.

  A shrill, ear-piercing alarm broke out.

  Rosalyn shot up from her bed, followed by Terri. The time was 5:24 AM, and that particular alarm was one they all knew but couldn’t believe they were hearing.

  A breach.

  Rosalyn threw on her glasses and rushed out of the room in a tank top and simple pajama pants, no time to put on proper clothes or shoes. The reverberating alarm was like a fire under her bare feet. Her dark brown hair swished at her shoulders, untied, as she dashed out of the room on cold plastic and metal flooring. Terri followed behind her with braided locks similarly unkempt. The male crew members, each dressed in little more than underclothes, burst out of their room and followed Rosalyn and Terri out into the dark hallway lit with low, bluish-white lights and the rotating yellow emergency lights.

  Amid the alarms SNTNL’s voice came on, his voice uncharacteristically shocked. “Alert! Hull breach in the medical bay! Hull breach in the medical bay! Alert!”

  “What the hell is going on?” shouted Randy. Rosalyn couldn’t even tell whose voice it was in the noise and confusion as they all rushed in the direction of the medical bay.

  They rushed through the hexagon-shaped hall, feet clanking on flooring once flecked with black, alien liquid, but now spotless after having been tended to by an automated cleaning system managed by SNTNL. Breath was short as they stopped at the door of the medical bay at the end of the hall, locked shut. Through the window they could see that the entire room was a mess: things thrown out of place, medical supplies all over the counters and floor, a broken stool, and worse.

  Rosalyn opened the door and was greeted with a violent whooshing noise and oppressive winds pushing against her flesh. She raised her arms and buckled her knees in shock. Stepping forward just two paces, she gasped as she saw in the next room a sizable gap in the wall outside the spaceship almost four and a half feet tall and a few feet wide. The temperature was dropping and papers and bits and bobs were flying all over, getting sucked out into the outside atmosphere.

  “Everyone get back!” she yelled as she jumped out of medical bay and shut the door again. Barreling down the hallway, she opened up a small storage unit set into the wall where sets of oxygen masks were kept. The blaring alarm kept lighting the hall, pushing away all other thoughts or sensations any of them felt. Rosalyn opened up the drawer of the storage unit and strapped one of the oxygen masks onto her face. Despite not being ordered to follow or join her, each of the others came and grabbed an oxygen mask to put on as well, following her as she opened the bay door and rushed in once again.

  It was bitingly cold in the medical bay, and winds scattered with ice and dust from the outside bit into their unprotected skin. Through the terrible hole they could see the trembling darkness of 730-X Zacuali. It was time to act quickly. Rosalyn went for a control panel and worked with SNTNL to engage a secondary system to plug up the hole temporarily. Three robotic arms emerging from the wall removed a thick panel off of the ceiling, large enough to cover the gap, and transferred it down to the floor. Al—wearing oxygen mask and pajama pants, but no shirt—heaved it up and slammed it with almost excessive force over the hole. Randy gathered two electric screwdrivers he’d went and found and handed one to Al. Together they pressed the screwdrivers against the corners and edges of the panel, quickly firing screws with great speed and power into the wall, sealing the panel against it. When at last they finished sealing it, the blaring alarms stopped going off, leaving their ears weary and eyes recovering.

  In the commotion they had noticed but not been able to focus on the fact that the medical chair where Shauna had rested had been pulled off its base and completely overturned. Now that the life-threatening danger was dealt with, Rosalyn turned to examine it.

  With increasing perplexity she grabbed the edge of the overturned chair and pulled it back, exposing who was behind it.

  Nobody.

  She swore softly and felt her knees wobble. Her voice was raised and trembling. “She’s gone!”

  “What?” said Terri, running over to see for herself. There was no Shauna: only a bizarre, oval-ish shape stuck to the reclined chair where she used to lay: a very rough outline of a purplish-black, organic-looking material that looked torn. The rest of the chair within that outline looked like it had been touched with a similar material as well, complete with a wet-looking sheen to it.

  Terri’s brown eyes were wide. She stood up, her body trembling, twisting around in desperation. “Wh-where is she? Where is she?”

  Everyone stared around and at each other with a level of confusion that they’d never before known.

  “SNTNL, where is Captain Beele?” said Sam, a terror of powerlessness in his voice.

  “There was a disturbance in the medical bay shortly before the ship’s hull was breached. Sadly, the camera systems as well as the medical computer were destroyed in the disturbance.”

  Al slammed his fist ag
ainst a wall and cried out in anger. Even to the oxygen-masked crewmates, the whole room smelled off, a bizarre reek coming from the organic material on the chair and the air quality greatly lessened from the breach.

  Rosalyn looked up at the camera, a small half-encased sphere in the corner of the room with a visual of everything. True to the A.I.’s word, the camera looked like it had been burned out in some electrical overload. “Can we see footage of what happened before it was destroyed, SNTNL?”

  “Unfortunately the disturbance did more than just immediate damage to the camera, Captain Pulman. The footage from the camera is uploaded to the medical computer at a near-constant rate, but the process of transferring that data to the main computer often gets backed up, and all the footage that had not yet been transferred was destroyed along with the camera and the medical computer systems. The last footage I have is from nearly five hours ago, at 12:48 AM.”

  Rosalyn grimaced.

  SNTNL continued, “There are, however, records of notifications being live-uploaded to the mainframe system about somewhat concerning changes to Shauna’s state at 1:20 and 3:09 AM. But with the medical computers destroyed, there is no way to view the details of those reports. I am very sorry.”

  She stood up straight and looked at her crew. “Search the ship! Look for Shauna, and also look for anything out of the ordinary. SNTNL, keep an eye on everything and notify us the second you see something.”

  After a moment to gather themselves, everybody dispersed, each first heading back to the rooms to remove their oxygen masks and get ready to search the ship. When the crew met up again a few minutes later, Rosalyn, now wearing her blue-white sneakers, instructed, “Everybody travel in twos. I don’t want to rule out the possibility that some of those shell aliens might have somehow gotten on board. Al, why don’t you come with me down to the engine rooms on the bottom floor.”

  Al nodded and finished lacing his boots before heading off with her, a large wrench in hand.

 

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