The Planetsider Trilogy

by G J Ogden

  “Help me with this will you?” said Summer, spotting Ethan as he approached. She was wrestling with a handle, but the partition would not budge.

  “Gaia said there were some adjoining sections, so this must be how to get through,” said Ethan, grasping the edge of the partition and adding pressure. “It has probably just seized up over time.”

  “Okay, after three; are you ready?” Summer counted down from three and then they both heaved at the door, eventually forcing it to scrape along the edge of the wall, dislodging a century of dust and grime. They stopped when the opening was just large enough to pass through and then stepped back to peer inside. The adjoining space was dark and smelt musty.

  Summer drew Ethan’s knife from the scabbard on her belt. “Better safe than sorry.”

  Ethan nodded and jogged back into the lab to retrieve his short-staff. But, before he reached it, he stopped, feeling a strange sensation under his feet, as if the floor was vibrating, almost imperceptibly at first, but growing stronger with each passing second. He glanced over to Gaia and Yuna, who both seemed to have noticed it too.

  “Tell me you know what that is?”

  “I am afraid not, Ethan,” said Gaia, scowling at the gently vibrating walls.

  Dust-covered consoles, instruments and tools began to rattle on the desks and work surfaces all around the laboratory, and then the vibrations grew stronger, turning into heavy shudders that were accompanied by a dull roar, just audible through the dense glass wall of the laboratory.

  “We will accelerate our work,” said Gaia, but the excitement at furthering her research overrode her anxiety over the unknown origin of the vibrations. “The progress is already astounding, and exciting beyond measure!”

  Ethan’s short-staff rolled off the table and clattered onto the floor, and this seemed to finally wake the hermit from his nap. He snuffled and started, grabbing his stick and wielding it menacingly, as if he were about to be attacked, then leapt to his feet and jogged up to Ethan.

  “What’s all this, lad?”

  “We don’t know, but be ready, just in case we have to make a sharp exit.”

  The hermit nodded. “Aye, lad. This is not a good place to be after dark. I’ll help you all I can, but soon we must go, or I must leave you. I will only become a burden to you.”

  Ethan nodded, but was still honed in on the vibrations, which were easing as rapidly as they had begun. And then, as if they had never existed in the first place, they stopped.

  Ethan reached down and picked up his short-staff, turning it in his hands; the comforting feel of the dense, hard wood was like a soothing tonic that helped to quiet his nerves. He glanced back towards the newly-opened partition and saw that Summer had already gone through the dark opening.

  “Wait here…” he said to the hermit, and hurried over to the partition, squeezing through into the colder and mustier air on the other side.

  “Summer…” he called out, but in a hushed tone; the chill and darkness gave the space a sinister feel.

  “Over here, Ethan.”

  The room was divided by floor-to-ceiling racks, which were split into sections, with a zig-zag path filtering through them. He followed the voice and moved swiftly, but cautiously around the series of bends, until he saw Summer, knife held ready, stooped as if preparing to attack. He tightened his grip on the staff and made his way to her side. Summer didn’t look at him, and instead pointed the dagger to a bright patch in the ceiling, about ten meters ahead. Ethan’s eyes had not yet fully adjusted to the darkness, but as his focused on the area he was able to make out another stairwell leading to the roof, similar the one in the corridor outside the laboratory, except that the door at the top was wide open to the darkening evening sky outside.

  “We should back out, slowly,” suggested Ethan, but Summer shook her head.

  “You saw how easily the maddened smashed through the glass wall; if there’s anything in here, that thin partition back there won’t stop them.”

  “But Yuna’s bolt-thrower will.”

  Summer gripped the handle of the blade more tightly, but grudgingly accepted that Ethan was right. “Okay, you go and I’ll follow.”

  Ethan stepped backwards, retracing his steps, and when he was sure that Summer was actually following, he turned the first of the zig-zag corners back towards the lab. Suddenly, there was a dull thud above him, perhaps coming from outside. He froze, and turned to see a silhouetted shape flashing past the open door to the roof.

  “Summer, we need to move…” he urged, but just as he finished speaking the words, a creature crept out of the darkness and locked its obsidian eyes onto him. “Run!”

  Summer and Ethan turned and sprinted down the narrow corridors between the racks, colliding with the metal shelves at the end of each short passageway. The crash and clatter of objects drowned out any other noises, but they knew the enemy would be close on their heels. Ethan reached the partition and scraped through it.

  “Yuna, the bolt-thrower!”

  Ethan’s sudden and frantic appearance threw Yuna and Gaia completely, and both remained fixed to the spot, like startled animals. Ethan saw the weapon on a table mid-way into the lab and ran for it, just as Summer reached the partition. She squeezed part-way through, but then was held back by thin, bony hands clawing though the darkness. Summer gripped the edges of the partition to stop herself from being dragged back into the adjoining room, and cried for help.

  Hearing her shouts, Ethan abandoned his pursuit of the bolt-thrower and rushed back, grabbing Summer’s tunic and trying to prize back the oily gray fingers that held her, but the creature was too strong. Summer’s hold on the partition walls failed and she was dragged back and then tossed into the darkness, and Ethan found himself again eye-to-eye with the gaunt, distorted face of one of the maddened. He lifted the short-staff, ready to defend himself, but then three sharp cracks pierced the air and Ethan’s face and clothes were showered with cold, red-black blood. The creature fell forward through the partition and let out a low growl before lying still.

  Ethan stood rigid, heart thumping in his chest, still holding the short-staff at the ready, and then from the darkness on the other side, Summer appeared. She ran to him and Ethan threw down the staff and caught her in an embrace.

  “What happened?” he asked, squeezing Summer tightly, holding the back of her head and letting her long red hair fall across his face.

  “I hope I’m not intruding…”

  Ethan pulled away from Summer and was astonished to see Major Karl Page casually leaning through the partition; there was a sidearm in his right hand with a thin wisp of smoke trailing from its barrel.

  “What the hell are you doing here?” said Ethan.

  Page stepped fully into the laboratory and rested back against the partition wall, smiling broadly. “You’re welcome!”

  Chapter 26

  Page clicked on the safety and slid the sidearm back into its holster. “Don’t worry, I bolted the door to the roof shut, after I came through it, and there are no more of those things out there.”

  The soldier had no sooner finished his assurances that nothing else was in the adjoining room when a shadow moved behind Page’s shoulder.

  “Look out!” Ethan shouted and he darted forward, short-staff at the ready.

  Page held up his hands. “No, no, wait, it’s okay! It’s just Ashley, my pilot.”

  Ashley Jansen stepped through the partition and into the laboratory. She raised a wary eyebrow at Ethan, who looked poised to club her over the head.

  “Not quite the welcome I was expecting...” she said, brightly, but there was no response, just a stunned silence. “I guess we’ll leave the formal introductions till later then.”

  It was a genuine attempt to lighten the mood, but despite Ashley’s charm the atmosphere in the laboratory remained darker than the blood of the maddened.

  “What are you doing here?” Ethan repeated, since Page had yet to offer any enlightenment. Then he noticed the str
ange black mask covering part of his head and eye; a detail he had overlooked during the excitement. “And what happened to your face?”

  Page touched a hand to the mask, “Ah, well, let’s just say not everyone was glad of my return to the moon base.” Then, before anyone could probe him for a less cryptic response, he answered Ethan’s first question.

  “As to why I’m here, I could ask you the same question,” Page continued. “We were expecting you to be at the engineering complex in the mountain, but as we made our descent, we picked up a power signature here, and when we scanned more closely, a weak transponder signal too. Then we saw the crawler parked outside, and assumed it had to be you.”

  “It’s a long story, and we honestly don’t have much time,” Ethan replied. “You saw how this place is crawling.”

  “Yes, and there are more of them outside too. It’s why we had to land on the roof,” said Ashley. “I hope our arrival didn’t startle you too much?”

  Ethan looked at the others and it was clear from their somewhat relieved expressions that everyone had fathomed the cause of the earlier tremors. However, there was something else unusual about this new encounter, Ethan realized, specifically the new pilot. “Wait, where is Maria?

  “To hell with Maria!” snapped Summer. “Just get on with explaining why you’re here!”

  Page’s shoulders dropped and he seemed to lose an inch of height. “Maria is why we’re here.”

  The muscles in Ethan’s face tightened, and Summer’s eyes briefly flicked over to study his reaction, before fixing back on Page.

  “We managed to put down Kurren’s insurrection, but then she collapsed. It seems her exposure to orrum radiation while planetside was more severe than we thought. She has what the UEC call G-DARP, though you planetsiders know it better as the Maddening.”

  Ethan glanced at Summer and the hard edges of her expression fell away. He swallowed hard and looked back at Page. “Can she be treated?”

  “Not by our doctors, no,” said Page, gravely. “We came here hoping that Gaia had found a treatment, something based on your blood, Ethan.”

  Gaia stepped away from the workstation and moved to Ethan’s side, leaving Yuna to continue the work.

  “Sadly, Ethan’s blood did not provide the critical data I needed,” said Gaia. Page’s head dropped and he pressed his eyes shut. “Hello again, Karl, it is good to see you.”

  “It’s good to see you again too, Gaia,” said Page, opening his eyes and rubbing his weary, stubble-covered face. “I wish it were under better circumstances.”

  “However, where one door shut, another was opened,” Gaia went on, and Page seemed to stand taller again. “We have a breakthrough.”

  “That’s amazing, Gaia…” then Page hesitated, “…but how?”

  “That’ll be because of me, lad,” said the hermit, who had sneaked around the side without anyone noticing him. He shoved his hands into his giant coat pockets and looked at Gaia. “I assume that your brutal leeching of my vital essence has proved useful then?”

  “It did indeed!” said Gaia, beaming. “It seems that in addition to being a uniquely charming gentleman…” the hermit smiled and saluted with a flowery waft of his hand. “…that you are also, quite possibly, unique. Your genome is unlike anything I have seen. You are human, yet also different, in ways that I have yet to fully understand.”

  “What does that mean?” said Ethan.

  “Honestly, I do not know. My best guess is that his DNA was damaged in a manner similar to that which causes G-DARP, or the Maddening, or whatever you wish to call it, but then a random mutation fixed it, for want of a better word. He retained much of what could be considered the beneficial traits of the mutations, such as significantly enhanced resilience to disease and toxins, increased strength, and exceptional long life, but without the more unpleasant side-effects.”

  “So, you’re saying he’s one of the maddened?” said Summer, smirking at the hermit. “That would explain a lot.”

  The old man narrowed his eyes at her, but his bushy, unkempt beard couldn’t hide the fact he was smiling too.

  “He is an enigma, and one I would love to study further, at a more appropriate time, of course.”

  The hermit scoffed. “You’re aren’t putting me in a cage, lass, like some kind of lab rat!”

  “I meant study your blood,” Gaia clarified, which seemed to put the hermit more at ease. “But, importantly, in terms of my research, this man’s blood was like a magnet, pulling all the different strands of the puzzle together, and importantly in the correct order, while adding the vital information that has eluded me for decades.”

  “So, you have a cure?” said Ethan, unable to stop himself from glancing at Summer.

  “A cure is perhaps not the right word, but yes, in essence I believe I can synthesize a compound that will reverse the genetic damage and also offer protection to those without any natural resilience.”

  “That’s incredible!” said Page and Ethan in harmony.

  “There is a caveat, however,” Gaia was quick to add, before the excitement of the news had a chance to build further. “The serum can neutralize the corrupted DNA and facilitate repair, while also building in the hermit’s unique protection against the radiation’s toxic effects. However, should the corruption have already progressed too far, the effect of neutralizing the damaged DNA would be to kill the host.”

  Gaia’s statement was intended to have a sobering impact and it worked. Everyone knew what this meant for Summer and, now that her condition was known to be similar, for Maria too.

  “Can you tell if the genetic damage is too extensive?” said Ethan, asking the obvious question, despite being fearful of hearing the answer.

  “I cannot know, not with any certainty and not without significantly more study,” said Gaia. The room fell silent again, with even the hermit unable to offer any nuggets of wisdom.

  Then Summer cleared her throat and stood tall, pressing her hands to her hips.

  “If none of you are going to say it then I will. It’s kill or cure, right? Since I’ll die anyway, what’s the difference?”

  “The difference is when,” Gaia replied without hesitation. “If you take the serum now, and your genetic damage is already too progressed, it will kill you in a matter of hours.” Her face tightened with strain. “If you do not take it and continue with the existing medications, there is a good chance that you will live to see your child to term.”

  “Wait a minute…” Ethan cut in, seeing where Gaia was going. “There are no guarantees either way. We have to do what’s right for Summer. That has to come first.”

  “Ethan, I am not suggesting a course of action; I am merely pointing out the facts, as uncomfortable as they are.”

  “But that’s an impossible choice!” said Ethan, throwing his hands out to his side. “We don’t know that the baby will continue to be safe if Summer gets worse! If we do nothing, they could still both die!”

  “You are right, there are no guarantees,” Gaia answered, calmly, but her voice wavered and she had to repeatedly clear her throat. “I wish I could tell you what to do.”

  “You don’t have to,” said Summer, raising her voice to ensure she captured the room’s attention. “It’s my decision, and I’m not going to take the serum.”

  “Summer, you don’t have to decide now…” Ethan began, but Summer held firm. She had been mulling the choices over in her mind since the moment that Gaia had laid bare the harsh realities of her situation. She understood that there were no guarantees, but to Summer the choice was simpler if she removed herself from the equation. There was a chance the serum could save both her and the baby, but it also risked instantly killing her and the unborn child; that was like jumping off a ledge and hoping there was something soft at the bottom. By not taking the serum she banked on surviving long enough for the baby to be born, or at least have a chance of life should Summer not make it. And while this choice also had risks that could not be foreseen,
she would not gamble on a hope. She would fight the sickness for as long as she could, and in doing so give new life a fighting chance; a new start that she could not have for herself, because no matter how much she tried, she still hated that she had survived while Katie and Elijah were dead.

  “I’ve made my choice, Ethan,” said Summer with a resolve that made it clear she did not want to be challenged. “Besides, we’ve overlooked the most important element of Gaia’s discovery; the only one that really matters. Gaia said this serum can kill roamers and the maddened. We need to figure out how to use it, because we’re all dead unless those things can be stopped.”

  The room fell silent again, and although Ethan was far from finished with Summer regarding her choice, it wasn’t the time or place to discuss it, especially since it would likely turn into an argument. But she was right about one thing; it was crucial to understand how to use Gaia’s serum to stop the roamers and the maddened from over-running the settlements. What mattered was averting a second Fall, and setting up a future free from the Maddening. That had to take precedence over everything else, and as much as he hated to admit it, that included Summer too.

  It was Page who eventually broke the impasse. “Summer, I’m sorry, I didn’t know that you were affected too.”

  “It’s not important, and it’s also none of your business,” snapped Summer; she desperately wanted the conversation and focus moved off her. “The only thing that matters is stopping these things.”

  Page visibly recoiled and looked embarrassed, and Summer felt the sharp stab of guilt. She took a long breath in and exhaled slowly, trying to force out some of the bile inside her. “I’m sorry, you didn’t deserve that.”

  Page nodded, “No offence taken.”

  “We can synthesize a small quantity of the serum here, but this lab is not equipped for any sort of larger scale production,” said Gaia, taking the opportunity to steer the discussion away from personal issues. “And our facilities back in the mountain are similarly unsuitable. With Tyler’s expertise, we could construct the required equipment, but that would take time.”