by Cour M.
“Not really, but since we don’t have any other options, let’s not doubt me, shall we? Truly, that’s just bad manners.”
⌨
They reached a crater, and then they all began to climb into it.
“Look for holes and stay in them,” Eight ordered, “the Equinaes thrive off of movement. If they don’t see their prey, they can’t find them.”
They dove into the crater, and there were many hidden pockets, or burrows that made tunnels. It had the makings of the appearance of a cave on the lunar surface. The entire unit lowered themselves down into it, broke off into groups impulsively and then began to hide among the tunnels.
All of them heard the stomping of the Equinae as it reached the edge of the crater. It halted, then looked out before it and saw no movement.
“Please go away,” Leary prayed next to Eight, “please go away!”
Instinctively, Eight tapped Leary’s helmet with his hand.
“It still can hear,” he instructed, “so shush.”
“Doctor, I’m frightened.”
“Only heartless people never feel fear, but still, quiet yourself.”
Despite his advice, Eight was properly afraid. Within his chest, his hearts beat painfully, as he tried to silently even out his breathing.
From within the hidden tunnel that Leary and he placed themselves in, a tentacle moved along. They glimpsed it through the opening and then it began to move into their tunnel, feeling towards them.
“Don’t move a muscle,” Eight whispered. “Don’t.”
The tentacle searched frantically around them, and eventually it crawled over Eight and Leary. Both remained perfectly still.
It moved over their legs.
Then their arms.
And lastly over their helmets.
When Leary’s face appeared again, it was frozen from horror, and with his eyes completely shut.
Suddenly, the Equinae retracted its tentacle and it left the tunnel.
“That was close.”
“Yes, but it removed it too fast,” Eight noticed, “why would it do that?”
Eight silently moved forward.
“Doctor, stop,” Leary hissed.
“Don’t worry. I’m fine. Just stay where you are.”
Eight moved closer to the edge of the tunnel and then he looked out of it. Through the tunnels, he saw movement, followed by shouts as the Equinae had its tentacles searching frantically through the crater passageways.
“They aren’t keeping still!” Eight remarked about the prisoners, “they are running around.”
“Darn fools.”
“They are scared. Fear and its victims.”
The Equinae’s tentacles wrapped around Gibson, and Eight saw how it was dragging him through the tunnels.
“Gibson!” Eight cried, then he turned to Leary, “Stay here, even if I don’t come back.”
Eight rushed out of their hiding spot, ran along the crater toward the Equinae, picked up a rock, and hoped that the lack of gravity would not affect his throw.
Just as the Equinae pulled Gibson out of the tunnel at last, Eight threw the rock, and it hit the Equinae in the eye. Yet because the speed of the rock was not very fast, it only annoyed the creature rather than harm it. However, the throw got its attention and the Equinae turned to Eight.
“What are you waiting for?!” Eight cried, “come after me!”
Eight picked up another rock.
“I said, come after me!”
With its pride affected by being taunted so, the creature released Gibson and began to chase after the Doctor.
⌨
Eight rushed around the crater, at least content that they were given first-rate spacesuits that allowed standard speed and motion, and he dove over and around obstacles, just narrowly missing the tentacles as they reached for him. However, he stumbled and fell down a hill, and the Equinae was unable to stop in time, so it fell after him. Seeing its massive size bearing down on him as he fell, Eight prepared his reflexes. Once he reached the bottom, he immediately stood up and rushed out of the way just as the creature fell on the place that he had just been.
Yet it was not finished.
It kept moving its large body around, lumbering it like a great weight and tried to crush him with it. Eight continued to run out of the way just in time before he was flattened by its mass. Slipping and falling, he rolled over just in time to move out of the way before it collapsed on him in full.
Then he scurried through a narrow tunnel and ducked for cover. The Equinae wound its tentacle through the tunnel after him, but Eight dove over and around so often, going through every twist in turn, that the tentacle got tangled.
Eventually, he found an exit. He emerged to the lunar surface once more and saw the large beast trying to yank its tentacle from out of the tunnel.
“Got the better of you, did it?” He roared, just out of its reach. “Yet it wasn’t me who was the cause, but yourself. You should be feeling it right now, the loss of oxygen, and you can’t thrive without it for too long. Your supply is used up, because you used it in chasing us. Now you see how sometimes winning is not a brilliant plan after all. Yet if you only relax, the tentacle will be released. Then return to your hole, forgetting about us, you might make it in time before you suffocate. But continue to chase after us, and it will be all on you. What do you say?”
The Equinae roared viciously.
“The usual answer,” Eight sighed. “Everyone, remain hiding!”
The Equinae eventually released itself and then it began to chase Eight once more, but he continued to duck for cover along the crater. Little by little the Equinae was slowing down, lumbering along and getting winded.
Just as it had Eight in its reach, it lacked the strength to continue on, so it turned around, and began to run back the way that it came.
As it retreated, all the prisoners emerged and watched its quick run slow down to a jog. Soon the creature was practically crawling away.
“I don’t understand,” Kenneth voiced, “what’s happened? Why is it running away?”
“Because it’s now suffocating,” Eight explained, “it used up all its air because of the exertion, and now it’s too far away from the oxygen atom pocket to make it back in time. I tried to tell it, but it wouldn’t listen.”
Up ahead, on the horizon, the Equinae eventually slowed down to a halt, collapsed, and died.
“Poor thing,” Eight remarked, “but no matter what I ever said, it didn’t listen. They never do, you know.”
“Who?”
“Everyone.”
⌨
They all walked back in the direction of the drop-off point.
“Why are we walking?” Another soldier named Harold asked. “We’re dead out here anyway. Eventually our air will be used up, and there’s nothing to eat.”
“That’s not the spirit though, is it?” Eight countered, “giving up before we’ve even gotten started.”
“But how can’t we though? You saw it yourself, Doctor. The ship left us.”
“It perhaps did it to bring back more soldiers,” Gibson pointed out.
“No, I don’t think so,” Eight summarized, “in truth, I think we were never supposed to leave this place.”
“What?”
“You saw it yourself. The pilot left us, clearly with every intention of doing so. He perhaps wished to wait for maybe a few of us to return with more oxygen, I don’t know. But I’m sure that over half of us were meant to be killed.”
“But why would they do that?”
“If we ever get back, then let’s ask them ourselves.”
“But if what you say is true, then they are not coming back for us,” Harold pressed, “therefore we’re lost. It will be weeks before they send another squad here again.”
“I’m not so certain about that either. Look around, have you seen any carcasses anywhere?”
“The monster could have eaten them all.”
“I’m not certain. Whe
n the Equinae kills something, it only eats the meat. It hates bones. We should have found some remains in the area of all the victims from the other units that were sent here. But we didn’t. This leads me to assume that soon after the Equinae has killed every person in the unit, the spaceship returns to collect the remains. To bury the evidence. If their unit is buried at the prison, then Captain Gilmore can explain it to his superiors, but if prisoners remains are constantly missing, then inquiries will be made. We just simply have to return to the area that they would assume to find us, which is where we first met the Equinae.”
“You really are sure that they will come back?” Gibson asked.
“Not really. But what have we got to lose, eh?”
⌨
As they returned to the place they had been, they all found their oxygen bags, and were able to attach it to their tanks and insert more air into them. Thus, they spent the entire night there, in their suits, and looking out, resting in the planet’s light.
“Amazing,” Kenneth acknowledged as he lay next to the Doctor while everyone else had fallen asleep.
“What is?” Eight asked.
“Despite it all, I can’t help but find the planet beautiful from this distance.”
“It’s because it is. And it’s because it always will be.”
“Do you think we were sent here to be offered as some sort of sacrifice?”
“I hope not. At least, that was not one of my theories.”
“Then what was one of your theories?”
“Think about how we are always sectioned off during breakfast times and lunch, and we eat separate at dinner time.”
“Yeah.”
“Well, is it ever enough to see everyone? Some of us even have breakfast in different rooms. This means that, despite it all, we all never get to see each other. And tell me, Kenneth, how long have you served here?”
“Three years now.”
“And in all that time, have you seen everyone? Think about it. There are some prisoners that you’ve never seen in the time that you’ve been here, haven’t you?”
Kenneth looked ahead.
“Yeah, there were always some others who ate in different rooms.”
“This means, that if some go missing, then you will never notice… until it’s your turn.”
Kenneth stared ahead.
“Then we’re being killed off. One by one.”
“Possibly. It’s just a theory.”
“A theory that makes a great deal of sense.”
“Yeah.”
Eight looked ahead and thought about Martha, Satsuki, Grace, and all his other companions. In a secret moment, he longed to see them. For he sensed that this might very well have been the end.
Martha and Satsuki had not come in time to save him.
In the next moment, however, he chastised himself secretly. Whether they came too late or not, they were trying. He felt it in his bones that they were. To distract himself from such gloomy thoughts, he shifted his attention back to Kenneth.
“You’ve been here for three years?” Eight asked.
“Roughly. Give or take a month or two.”
“What were you accused of?”
“I was innocent,” he spat defensively.
“I know.”
“Oh, why do I even talk about that?” Kenneth asked, looking away, “it doesn’t matter if one is innocent here or not.”
“It matters to me. What were you accused of?”
“Of hitting a car on the motorway. Involuntary manslaughter. It turned out that the car carried one of the politicians who was on the head council. A part of the senate or something. He was in it and so was his wife.”
“What really happened?”
“Their car slammed into mine! Yet because I was driving a truck at the time—before I was sentenced here, I was a truck driver—and those are virtually indestructible, you know. They’re like tanks. When you hit one, your car is going to suffer the aftereffects. So, when the politician drove his car into my truck, he was sent flying through the air. His car slammed into a building, the man and his wife were dead on impact, some people in the building were injured, and there was property damage. I’m sorry about the man dying, you see, but there were witnesses and everything. They saw it themselves and swore that they saw the car run into my truck. Yet after they testified, the politicians came in, and whether it was through bribes or threats, they coerced all the witnesses to recant their testimonies. Even the truck company who hired me didn’t stand up for me. Nope. A politician was dead, and someone had to pay for it. There was only one person who stood up for me, and refused to retract his statement. He lost everything just to defend me.”
“Who was he?”
“You met him, just before he died. Jamison.”
⌨
When hearing this, Eight grew somber.
“Wait, Jamison? The Jamison in this unit?”
“Yes, the man who just got swallowed by that worthless monster. He stood up for me, a complete stranger, they threw him in prison with me, but he continued to remain steadfast. He refused to lie, even though it got him here. And now this is what’s happened. He was stuck for years, where our families never get to speak to us, and now he’s dead. The price of being a good person.”
Eight rubbed his arm, horrified.
“I wanted to save him,” he whispered.
“So did I,” Kenneth sighed, “and we failed him. I suppose that a lot of people failed Jamison, in the end.”
“I’m sorry, Kenneth.”
“Me too. If it weren’t for me, he wouldn’t be here.”
“It’s not your fault.”
“Thanks, but tell that to my guilty conscience. It never leaves me alone, you see.”
“It never leaves me alone, either.”
Kenneth turned to him.
“Rumor was going around our group. They say that you actually are guilty of the crime that you were convicted here for.”
“Perhaps I was. What do you think?”
“You don’t look guilty.”
“No one looks guilty, but they all are of something. However, that shall never stop us.”
“Stop us from what?”
“From always fighting on. And from always fighting ourselves.”
“I heard something else.”
“What?”
“Is it true that you are from the stars?”
“I’m a space traveler, yes.”
“I’ve always wanted to see the universe. But I was just so scared. I also didn’t know what to do. Or where to go.”
“Well, don’t worry, Kenneth. We’ll get out of this, and when we do, that’s where I’m heading out. To the stars. And I’ll take you there.”
“You will?”
“If you want, oh yeah. That’s the great thing about the TARDIS. There’s always room for one more.”
“I would like that.”
“They always do.”
⌨
They all laid down and fell asleep, except for Eight. Stricken with terrors in the night from what they had underwent, he now felt even more remorse for how it all had turned out.
Poor Jamison!
Yet now he was irate. And now he didn’t know if he could contain it. Eventually, after much thought and deliberation, he finally could rest.
The next day, he awoke to the sound of a spacecraft arriving. He jumped up and ordered the men to take cover.
“Why?” Gibson asked.
“If they see us, then they may just keep flying. Therefore, if they see nothing, they will come and inspect, looking for the dead bodies. We might be able to take them by surprise that way. When I give the signal, silently creep out and overpower any of the guards.”
They all did as Eight instructed, and Eight hid in a small tunnel in the lunar surface that clearly was where the creature once dwelled.
“But even if we do get taken from here,” the prisoner beside him pointed out, “then they will only take us back to the prison. T
hey may even try to accuse us of bad behavior and have us executed.”
“Even if they do, that will take time and getting authorization from Mecrellas. If we return, we have some chance.”
“And some is better than none, I know. Yet…”
“What?”
“Perhaps it was better just to allow ourselves to die here. Maybe death is better than going back to all that.”
“You know that I cannot believe that.”
“Right. You know, for the only guilty man in this prison, Doctor, you are quite the idealist.”
“Idealism can spring from flaws.”
The spaceship landed and then a couple of prison guards disembarked. They carried lasers, in case they were to run into the Equinae, and they preceded forward.
“What do we do now?” the prisoner asked Eight.
“Wait for me to do something reckless.”
“When will you do that?”
“Right now, and stay here.”
Eight silently emerged from his hiding place, with his arms outstretched.
“Hey boys!”
⌨
When he appeared, the prison guards raised their guns at him, but he remained fixed.
“Antsy fingers, I see. And believe me, you really don’t want to shoot me.”
“You’re supposed to be dead.”
“And why is that, I wondered,” Eight replied, nonchalant. “Why would our space shuttle send us here to die? I had a few theories, and each was as likely as the next one. Because I am, you know, me. And then I settled on one final reason. But more of that later. I humbly request an audience with your good Captain Gilmore. Who is quite possibly one of the most despicable men I’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting.”
“All prisoners of this unit are to be killed,” the guard replied, raising his gun.
“I was worried that you would say that, and my answer is ‘now’.”
“Now what?”
“Oh, that wasn’t issued towards yourself, you know. It was issued to the people who are now sneaking up behind you and about to overpower you in 3,2,1.”
The guards turned around, but it was not in time. Kenneth, Gibson and the others had overpowered them, restrained them and grabbed their guns.