by Rod Little
They looked where Dexter directed them and found an air vent near the floor under one control station. Sam bent down and peeked inside. He could hear something moving behind the grate.
“Hey. Someone's in there.”
This time he thought he saw a flash of clothing. A shadow twitched.
“We're here to help,” Sam said. “Can you come out of there?”
“What is it?” George asked. He pulled Sam back and aimed his rifle at the vent. “Come out, if someone's in there. I'm only gonna ask once, then I start shooting off the hinges.”
The noises sounded louder, a swish of clothing against the vent grill, then a scraping sound. Someone was trying to crawl through the duct. Then the vent door swung open, and a figure crawled out with some difficulty. When the figure unfolded, they could see it was a small woman with short-cropped brown hair and fair complexion; she was dressed in a military uniform. At first glance she looked like a man, until she stood all the way up. She straightened her back, stretched her muscles – cramped from her hiding spot – and lifted her hands above her head.
“Well, you gonna shoot me or what?” She asked.
George kept his rifle aimed at her and pushed Sam and Bohai further behind him. “I ain't decided yet. I might. Tell me who you are.”
The woman brushed dirt off her soiled uniform with both hands and cracked her neck. She was obviously stiff from an extended period inside the duct; she must have been crammed in its small confines for a while. For how long, they didn't know.
“I'm Sheni Akan of the Sayan Science Corps,” she said proudly. “It's about time someone came to get me out.” Then she squinted her eyes at their hazmat suits and gear. “You're not Sayan. Who the... What the hell are you?”
“We're from Earth,” Sam said.
She reached behind her and drew out a long knife, taking a defensive stance. “Earthian boars! You won't get anything from me, you butchers!”
“Relax,” Sam said in as calm a voice as he could muster. “I didn't say Earthian. I said we're from Earth. Earthlings, I guess you call us.”
“Impossible. Earth can't travel this far into space. You're still babies, scientifically speaking. How did you get here?”
“In an ancient Earthian ship that was left on Earth,” Sam said.
“Impossible.”
“Well, we're not ghosts, lady. We're from Earth and we are standing right here in front of you. We're stationed at Starbase 21.”
George slowly turned and glared at the boy. “Tell her your social security number, while you're at it, kid! Generally we don't tell strangers every damn detail of ourselves right off the bat!”
“He's right,” said Bohai. “Look, Sheri. Sheni? We need to know more about you first. And besides, some of us are Sayan. Half-Sayan, anyway.” He motioned toward Sam.
She relaxed a bit and lowered the knife. If these men wanted her dead, she'd be dead already, she figured.
“Like I said, I'm a team member of the Sayan Science Corps, and we were sent here on a mission. Things went wrong and... here we are. By the way, you probably don't need those suits. You men can't breathe oxygen?”
“We'll keep the suits on for now,” George said gruffly. “And you're a little sketchy on the details. Can you be a little more specific? Start with this: who else is on board this ship?”
“Suit yourself. But I bet it's hard to move around in those outfits.” She felt the fabric of George's suit, and he pulled away quickly. “And you might need to move fast when the soul-suckers come.”
“Just answer my question, Miss.”
“A crew of seven, but I have no idea who is still alive. Two of my team are dead, for sure. The rest... I don't know.”
“Dexter, you getting this?” George asked. “You ever hear of this Science Corps?”
“Yes,” was all Dexter said. Static followed his voice.
“So what was your mission?” Sam asked. “Why are you all the way out here?”
“We were sent to find something in the Nebula. Something important to our...” She didn't finish the sentence, and looked reluctant to continue at all.
“Your invasion?” Sam asked. “Important to your invasion of Earth?”
“Partly,” she said coyly. “But partly to help with the aftermath. Dealing with the reunification. You may not realize–”
“Yeah we met your rebels,” George interrupted. “A fabulous much of guys! Now start explaining what it is you risked your life for. What did you come all the way into this junkyard of ships for?”
“I'm not sure. My mission leader said it would help us against anyone who stood in our way. He and the Defense Minister said it was the key to everything.”
“Who is your boss?”
She ignored the question. “I'm not exactly sure what we were looking for.” That was a lie, and her tone betrayed her.
“So they sent you in here to get something important, but you don't know what it is?” George asked. “That's a load of bull. You know what you're looking for, and you've got about five seconds to share that chocolate-covered morsel of information with us. My patience is thin as a razor.” He raised his rifle higher and aimed it at her head.
“It's a ship,” she said quickly. “Look, can you lower your weapon? We're all humans. We're on the same side.”
“You sure? What side is that?”
“Those creatures are all over the ship. If we want to get out of here alive, we'll need to work together.”
“What creatures?” Sam asked. “We haven't seen anyone except you. And... a boot.”
“They took over the ship a few days ago,” she explained quickly. “They must have gotten on board when we searched one of the wrecks. I guess they were hiding on one of the broken hulls.”
“What type of creatures?”
“The centipedes,” Bohai said. They looked at him, and he repeated, “It's the centipedes. I can hear them, the same language as the two who stowed away on our trip to Earth.”
“Not exactly centipedes,” Sheni said. “They start out that way, giant millipedes or centipedes or something like that. Creepy, but harmless enough. But then they cocoon and come out as... something else. Something much worse. Manuk calls them soul-suckers.”
“Who is Manuk?” George asked.
“That's your question?” Sam asked. “What the hell is a soul sucker?”
“It's a six-legged creature from hell. We contained the first one and started to study it, but then the others hatched in the walls. They came out of hiding and attacked us. Manuk, our chief engineer, sent a distress signal and went to secure engineering, and that's when they got here to the bridge. I hid in that duct yesterday. For some reason, they couldn't find me in there.”
George finally lowered his rifle, but kept one eye on her at all times. He surveyed the room; there were no other ducts. It looked like the woman's air vent and the door were the only ways in.
“That duct smells bad.” He said.
“Yes it does. I'm glad to be out of it. I think the air filters have failed.”
“Maybe that's why they couldn't find you,” Sam suggested. “The smell.”
“They're intelligent,” Bohai said. “They have a hive mentality, though. They coordinate and work together. I'm starting to hear them again.”
“You heard them before?” George asked. “Why didn't you tell us?”
“I wasn't sure until this minute. And one more thing: they know we're in here.”
“What's he talking about?” Sheni asked. “How can he hear them?”
“It's hard to explain,” Sam said. “Listen, we need to get you back to our ship. We'll look for other survivors, too, but we need to hurry. Is there anything important we should take from this ship?”
“No, my research was destroyed, but I have some of the files.” She pulled a small device from her pocket, a tube the size of a pencil. “Some of our data is stored in here. But we never found the ship we came in for.”
“First things first,” Geor
ge said. “We need to get you and any other survivors back to the Praihawk.”
“It's just me and Manuk left, I think.”
Not if Manuk belongs to that boot, thought Sam.
“Let's go. Time's wasting,” George ordered.
He turned and activated the door, but when it opened, their path was blocked by a creature two feet high and three feet long, the size of a jaguar – except it looked more like the skeleton of a jaguar, with six legs. It was mostly bones with hairless yellow skin stretched across its bony frame. Its eyes were pure white, no pupils. Its legs were thin and long, dark claws at the ends. A row of a hundred tiny spikes lined its back ridge.
It opened its mouth, revealing six-inch fangs, and snarled, dripping saliva onto the floor. Then it put one foot forward and sprang.
Chapter 13
The air on Starbase 21 was electric with fear. Something had happened this morning, and rumors circulated with wild stories of alien creatures on the station and demons from the depths of some cosmic Hades. None of these stories were true, but a few were very close to the mark.
One of the cocoons hatched a creature that morning – a frightening being with claws and teeth that in no way looked friendly. It roamed the garden and ripped up a few plants in its frustration to get out, but so far it remained sealed inside. It rammed its head against the doors a few times, but the doors held firm.
For now.
Shane and Stu wondered how long the doors would hold, especially if the same type of demons hatched from the other pupae. Kelvin assured them that the garden's seal was sturdy, but Bem reminded them that this species was undocumented in their database. Without real data, no one could be sure of their strengths or capabilities.
“Other pods are empty, cracked open,” Filla noted. “We haven't seen any other creatures yet – just the one. but it's a safe bet that more are lurking in there, somewhere. Hiding, maybe.”
“Wonderful,” Shane cracked sarcastically, and Stu put a hand on his shoulder to steady him.
Stay firm and strong, no matter what, he had told their young leader earlier. Do not show hesitation, or the others will panic.
“Is there a way to purge the gardens?” Walter asked Kelvin and Bem. “If need be, can we destroy everything in those two garden? Like the bio-flame at the CDC back home. If a leak or a national attack occurs, they can destroy the whole building with heat, as a critical response.”
“We can raise the temperature,” Bem answered. “We can also spray hazardous chemicals inside. This was always a precaution against a virus or pest that might endanger the crops. This is also why the gardens are all separated, to prevent entire crops from being decimated by mites. The designers planned for such disasters.”
Walter's wife raised her voice. “You want to destroy the species before we study it? That's madness!”
“No, Margaret, I don't want that. But we may have to. I am simply gathering information at this stage. Looking at all our options.”
She frowned. “Please make that a last resort. These beings may hold extraordinary biological information, the key to survival in space.”
“Or they might just be monsters,” Shane said flatly, and raised his hands. He would not put science before lives on his station. “I want reports every hour on the progress in that garden dome.”
“Agreed,” said Stu, a man of few words.
They dispersed with differing opinions on the course that lay ahead, but sharing one sentiment: a fear for what may come next down the pipeline.
That afternoon Mitch was working in the vital systems room, helping Jones and Jason replace two air filters. It took three men to lift the mechanism and remove the old filters. They would be cleaned and reused at a later date. Mark and Dylan watched with great interest.
That was when Mitch noticed a puddle of clear liquid on the floor behind one of the pump mechanisms. He crouched down and lowered a toothpick to it. When he raised the toothpick, the gooey substance hung from the pick, then plopped back to the floor.
“Any idea what this is? This thing leakin' coolant or something?”
Jason approached and knelt next to it. The smell was strong, like honey. “I never saw any fuel or coolant that looked like this. Smells like... flowers or something. But then, we've only been here a month. A lot we don't know about these systems.”
A low guttural growl came from somewhere, but he couldn't pinpoint it.
When they stood up and walked back to the filter, the look on Dylan's face told them everything. He pointed to the top of the pump, and then Mark shouted: “Up there! Look out!”
A yellow six-foot creature crept across the ceiling above the machinery. It stalked them slowly and stealthily, upside down, its paws clinging to the metal ceiling plates. Its white eyes did not blink. The jaws dripped more saliva onto the ground.
The three men backed away, and Jason drew his gun. In one swift motion, Mitch produced the knife he always kept in his belt, while Jones pushed the two young boys back.
“Go,” he said to them. “Run and get help. Tell Stu we got a problem here.”
The kids ran screaming out of the maintenance room and down the hall, and that's when the creature dropped to the floor and made its move. It leaped into the air toward Mitch, its jaws opened, and Jason fired off two rounds with his revolver – straight into its head. The creature dropped to the floor and twitched, then hissed one last time before dying.
Mitch prodded it with his knife, sliced its neck to make sure it was dead. White blood oozed from its veins, and its form crumpled in on itself, even more skeletal in death than in life – as if breath had pumped it up. It looked like a deflated alien balloon oozing milk.
“What the hell,” Jason said.
“It's dead,” Mitch announced the obvious. “Is this that critter from the garden?”
Another growl.
A second creature padded stealthily along the floor and cleared the pump machine. It stayed low to the ground, like a cheetah hunting its prey.
“Guys,” Jones whispered. “Get over here now. No sudden movements.”
The men walked backward with very slow, deliberate steps. Their eyes stayed glued to the strange animal, and Jason's gun stayed trained on its head. Its six legs moved in concert, and brought it forward effortlessly. It seemed to glide across the floor.
Jason couldn't remember how many bullets were left in his pistol. He fired a shot at the demon's head and shouted, “Run!”
The all three turned and fled. When they reached the door, Jason looked back. He had only wounded it, a hit to the shoulder. It ambled toward them, hurt and angry. He fired once more and missed. Then an empty click from his gun – he was out of bullets.
Dammit! I'm an idiot.
He cursed his stupidity. Things had been going so well on the station, it had been a long time since he had reloaded his gun. He thought those days of shooting were behind them. It was a foolish oversight.
They crossed the threshold as the creature bounce ahead on its five good legs and opened its jaws to take Jason's leg.
A single shot rang out. The sound echoed, deafening in the small room.
The creature fell dead, and Stu stood with his shotgun in both hands and toothpick in his mouth. He was a welcomed sight to see.
“You guys okay?” he asked, kicking the dead body with his shoe.
“We're fine,” Jason said, panting slightly.
Others began to gather quickly like ants around a bread crumb, onlookers to an accident. Everyone wanted to see the dead animal. Camila and Shane tried to disperse the crowd and get everyone to go back to their duties.
“Well that tears it,” Mitch said. “The wolves are in the hen house now.”
Jones felt the need to explain, “He means the critters are out of the garden.”
But everyone knew what he meant. What they didn't know was what to do about it.
“Get everyone back to their quarters,” Shane said. “I want everyone accounted for.”
“What about these dead bodies?” Jason asked.
“Take those to the science lab. Tell Walter and his wife's team... we have some presents for them. I need to know everything about these beasts. ASAP.”
Tina joined them with one of the doctors, but there were no wounded humans to attend to. Yet.
Tina sidled up to Camila and whispered, “We had another sighting. Someone said they saw one on deck two. Might have just been a shadow. I don't know, I didn't see it.”
“Don't tell anyone yet, okay?”
Tina nodded, and Camila took Shane and Stu aside. “Guys, we have to contain this now, or we're all lost. We need to arm everyone.”
Stu sighed heavily. “Bad idea.”
“You have a better one?”
“No I don't. But don't we have some super-smart robot on this outer-space bucket? Let's go ask him!”
Chapter 14
Crammed into a holding cell, John and Gena waited for the next step of their “processing” as refugees. Their dirt bikes had been left behind, and now they carried only one small backpack and the worn, dirty clothes on their bodies. They rested on cold hard benches inside the sparsely furnished jails of the Beekstown New York Police Station. The tiny burg hadn't seen many real prisoners in its day – maybe a drunk or two, a vandal or the survivors of a bar fight. Back in 1976 they held a serial killer for possession of an illegal firearm, but they never knew it. The man was released the next day.
Now Gena leaned back and massaged the knots in her neck. “No one seems to want to know us.”
Seven other Earthlings were also in the cell, but they didn't speak to Gena, John or each other. Tired and drained, they were in the same boat, but not clinging to each other.
“They're just scared,” John said, always the forgiving one. “Can't trust nobody. Can you blame 'em?”
“No I cannot,” she said.
Two Sayan guards opened the cell door and threw in a bag of apples. One man caught the bag and started handing them out. One of the guards had an orange. He handed it to Gena.
“Here. It's edible,” the soldier said. “It's good.”