by Andrew Gates
It was traumatizing.
The 24-year-old felt his hand shake as he held the pod to his ear. Navy trainees jogged around him in the black-walled drill court, decorated with crimson flags and Navy emblems. He ignored them like they were not even there.
“When did it happen?” Damien asked, hardly able to get the words out.
“Just now. I called once I found out,” his brother replied over the pod.
Damien looked up as a young woman approached him. She was one of the trainees, though the chief could not remember her name.
“Chief?” she asked. “What’s wrong?”
Damien could feel a tear run down his face. He clenched his fists, snapping the pod into pieces.
The trainees all took a few steps back, realizing right away that this was not the time to press him for questions.
“My mother is dead,” Damien said aloud. His voice was like a whisper. “My mother is dead.”
It was chilling.
The 26-year-old shivered on the cold metal bench that pressed against the long red wall. He rubbed his hands together and puffed on them. Not working, he thought. Why are medical centers always so cold?
The Navy man had come to be quite acquainted with medical centers in the past few months. Years ago it was a rare thing for him to venture into this zone, but Tracey had been in and out so many times that these days Damien began to see red walls just as often as white.
The medical center was almost completely abandoned at this time of night. Most people were either asleep or in the colored zone. That was where the EMTs found Tracey only a few hours ago.
Damien removed his cap and stood up as the doctor entered the quiet hallway from the next room. The older man’s long white coat looked like it belonged in the Navy lines. Funny how they do all that shit with color, he thought.
“How is he?” Damien asked bluntly.
The lieutenant glanced down at the pod in the doctor’s hands before he moved it away. Medical charts filled the screen. Damien did not get a great view, but he was able to read the words drug overdose.
“Mr. Saljov, I’m afraid your brother’s lifestyle is getting worse. He needs real care,” the doctor explained, shaking his head.
Damien sighed. This was the same story as last time.
“He’s getting better though, isn’t he?”
“I’m afraid not. I’d guess he hasn’t had a clean blood reading since he left the military,” the doctor explained. “He has his moments of improvement here and there, but nothing steady.”
Shit, and here I thought he was getting better.
“What of the girl?”
“Who?”
“His daughter,” Damien clarified, almost afraid of the answer. “What happens to her?”
The doctor shook his head, looked at something on his pod and looked up at Damien again.
“If he has one more relapse, the Federation will be forced to remove her from him. And based on what I’m seeing, I’m afraid I can’t come to his defense.”
Damien knew that losing Ophelia would be his brother’s breaking point. He could not let that happen.
“I’ll talk to him. If he knows what you just told me, he’ll pull himself together. Nothing matters to him more than Ophelia.”
“I hope you’re right,” the doctor replied. “For all your sakes.”
“He’ll change,” he answered. “He’ll do it for her. I promise you.”
It was hopeless.
The 28-year-old felt his heart racing, his head sweating and his hands trembling.
Warm seawater covered Damien’s legs as he sent the archaic message. It had been a long time since the crewman had any reason to use Morse code, but his training kicked in as the Cassidy X20 filled with water.
Damien looked forward towards his captain as she frantically pulled on the yoke. Her black hair dripped in sweat, soaking into the large foam chair like a sponge filled with soap.
“Come on, come on!” she said to herself, trying to bring the submarine up.
In an instant the front window cracked and water rushed into the cabin. Damien could only sit and watch, strapped to his seat as his captain disappeared from view, engulfed by the monstrous sea.
“No!” he shouted as the ocean collided with his body, burning his eyes and choking him from the inside.
Damien quickly shut his eyes and felt around for the buckle to unlock his seatbelt. I’m going to die, he told himself. I know it. I’m going to fucking die.
The desperate crewman fumbled, unable to find the buckle to his belt. The co-pilot’s stomach rocked like he was falling a thousand levels. He could feel the pressure pushing on him like heavy metal slabs. He felt dizzy. He no longer knew which way was up. He could not even tell if he was moving his hands at all.
I am helpless, he realized. I am done. The crewman stopped fumbling and accepted his fate. For once, Damien Saljov felt truly at peace.
It was bright.
The man awoke from what felt like the worst hangover of his life. Damien Saljov stared straight into the bulb above, too tired to shield his eyes from it. He did not know where he was, how old he was, or if he was even still alive.
My life just flashed like a dream, he realized. It was all real: high school, college, even the submarine. Oh Lord Beyond Both Seas, the submarine. Damien shuddered at the thought. The last thing he remembered was the salt water filling his lungs and stealing his breath like poison. After that, he was here, staring into some sort of light.
Damien tried to take a step forward but quickly realized that his legs were immobile. He tried to look down to them but realized his head was immobile too. He started to hear noise. Someone was in the room with him, fumbling through what sounded like a box of tools nearby. The clanging of metal grew louder and louder. Eventually Damien realized it was not the sound getting louder, but his hearing getting better.
He tried to move his head again, but this time he felt the force of an invisible strap holding him in place. He wiggled his fingers and felt a wall behind him. Damien squirmed about, trying to move in any way he could. That was when he realized this was no wall. It was a table. Damien was lying flat on his back, facing the ceiling.
I’m a fucking classroom project, he thought, shivering in fear. He wiggled some more, hoping that whoever was nearby would let him loose.
“Do not fight it,” a deep voice said to him. Damien could not tell from which direction the voice was coming. It was almost as if it were echoing in his mind.
The confused Navy man tried to answer but his voice was far too weak to produce any noise. He cleared his throat and tried again but all that came out was a long cough and some drool.
Not knowing what else to do, the trapped man wiggled some more. Slowly the lieutenant felt his muscles coming back. He had not realized it until now, but it was as if his head, neck, chest, arms, hands, torso, legs and feet had just awoken from a year-long sleep.
What the hell is going on? he wondered, finally giving his body some rest.
Suddenly the light above his head shut off. Everything went dark for a moment as Damien’s eyes adjusted to the darkness inside the room. By the time his vision changed, Damien finally felt coherent for the first time since he had woken up.
Above his head was a small transparent ball, apparently the source of all the light from earlier. The ceiling behind it looked like it was crossed with obsidian beams, not in a normal grid pattern commonly found in the station, but in an odd wave of V shapes flowing into each other like waves.
“Good. You have stopped flailing like a fish taken from water,” said the voice, echoing in his mind again. Whoever it was, they spoke in the deepest pitch he had ever heard. It almost sounded inhuman.
Damien tried to focus on the sound and suddenly realized that the fumbling noise had stopped.
“Wh-”
The lieutenant struggled to form the word.
“It speaks! I was wondering when you would find the strength,” the deep echo continue
d.
The man heard footsteps. They were heavy and strong, almost like the footsteps of five men marching as one. He could hear the stranger approaching him slowly.
“I’m surprised to see you awake so early. Do not worry about the memories. It is just a symptom of the thawing process.”
Thawing process?
As each footstep grew closer and closer, Damien started to feel the floor rumble beneath him. Whoever was coming must have been huge. He felt his heart race as if he was about to die all over again.
“You must be confused. Do not worry, evolved-one. You are safe from harm,” the voice said, though Damien could still not identify the speaker. “My people pulled your incapacitated form from the wreckage. Your body sustained many injuries, but we have worked to heal it, and added our own enhancements. Only now have we awoken you from your sleep. Your body and mind have been in suspension for four months.”
“Who?” Damien asked, now able to form a word. The footsteps were so close now. Whoever was in the room with him must have been standing right next to him.
“Who?” the voice repeated in a strangely satisfied tone. “That is what I wish to learn about you, evolved-one.”
A shape moved into his line of sight. It was not a person, nor was it anything the pilot had seen before. At first it reminded him of deep sea fish, like the ones he had studied in college. Whatever it was, it looked as if it had a drooling shrimp-like mouth, large round eyes like black slugger balls and a head the shape of a puffer fish, only wider and darker. But whatever this thing was, it certainly was no fish.
Damien heard a faint clicking sound and was suddenly able to move his head up and down, though he was still unable to look left or right. Whoever was in the room with him must have released the restraints. Happy to finally move his head, the nervous pilot studied the object before him.
It’s a head, he suddenly realized, I was only looking at the head. Oh Lord Beyond Both Seas, this whole thing is a creature, some sort of massive creature.
The creature before his eyes had a thin but long torso, which connected to an enormous ovular abdomen. Its arms were long and its rounded claw-like fingers resembled spearheads. It had four legs, popping out from underneath a crab-like shell. Its skin looked like the color of vomit and seemed to be covered in some thick fluid.
The sight of this creature made Damien jolt. His heart raced faster than he ever thought possible. He could practically feel it ready to explode out of his chest.
“You have not seen my kind before,” the echoing voice said as the creature looked down upon the captive pilot. “I understand your fear, but it will not help your health. Your heart rate has just spiked considerably.”
“Y-you?” Damien asked, barely able to get the word out.
“Yes, I am the one speaking to you,” the creature responded. Damien suddenly noticed that its mouth was moving as it spoke, though the words did not seem to match the motion of its mandibles.
Damien sensed something happening on his lower half. He could feel liquid moving along the curvature of his body, covering his crotch and sliding down towards his butt. Shit, I just pissed myself, he realized. He looked down towards his lower half and noticed that he was not wearing any clothes at all.
“Do not fear me,” the creature said as it leaned over him. Damien looked up at the monster’s eyes again, forgetting all about his uncontrollable bladder. “My name is Kho Rendevahrk. I have been watching over you during the last four months of your hibernation.”
“How… talk?” Damien asked.
The creature’s face moved as if it were excited by this question.
“You wish to be the one asking the questions, I see. I shall entertain this idea, for now. As you rested, I placed a translator chip inside your head, entering from the rear of your cranium. The same chip is in my own head, interpreting the meaning of your words in a way that I can understand.”
Damien did not believe it. He wiggled his head, trying to feel anything different inside his skull.
“You will not feel the chip. It is pointless to try, for it is embedded deep within your temporal lobe. The translator can interpret your thought patterns. It knows the meanings behind the words you speak and sends the meanings to me in a way that I can understand. The same works for me when I speak to you.”
Shit, if there’s a chip in my brain, can this creature read my thoughts?
“And now that I have answered your question, I hope that you can answer one of mine,” said the creature. It turned and picked something up from beyond Damien’s line of sight. The object, whatever it was, was round and transparent like the lightbulb above his head.
“Who are you and how many of you are there?” the creature asked bluntly. It simply stood still, holding the object in its claws. Damien was not sure what the ball would do, but he did not want to find out. He decided to do whatever the creature asked of him.
“D… Dam… Damien,” the lieutenant responded, struggling to find the words. It was still difficult for him to speak.
“Do not worry about the sound of the word,” the creature suggested. “Any noise will do, so long as you put meaning behind the word in your mind.”
Damien took a deep breath and tried again. This time, instead of trying to form the words, he simply spat out gibberish. With each nonsensical syllable, he thought up a meaning for it in his mind. The tired pilot was not sure if this technique would work, but it was worth a shot.
“Damien Saljov,” the creature responded after the pilot had said his nonsense. “So that’s your name.”
It worked, Damien thought, relieved that he was able to communicate with the creature. Now I just need to make sure I’m not thinking about something I shouldn’t.
“Did you come from the submerged city like the others?” the creature asked.
Damien was not sure what the creature meant by this question. Of course the submerged city meant the Atlantic Station. But this should have been obvious. There was nowhere else to reside in the entire ocean. He was more confused by the term others. He and Captain Gessetti were the only ones on the Cassidy submarine when it came under attack and she had almost certainly been killed.
“I don’t know,” Damien replied in his mind, pairing his thoughts with audible nonsense like he did before.
The creature leaned over him and placed the transparent ball on his naked chest. Damien could sense it did not like that answer.
“You are lying. Where did you come from and how many are there?” it asked, rephrasing the question this time.
“I came from the Atlantic Station,” Damien responded, hoping this was the answer the creature wanted to hear. “There are millions of us, millions of humans living in the station.”
The monster snickered and pulled the ball back.
“There were millions,” it responded. “My people saw to your world’s prompt destruction. But that is not the subject I wish to discuss. How many more cities are there?”
Destruction?
“What do you mean?” Damien asked.
“Do not ignore my question. You have already had your time to ask. How many more cities are there?” the creature replied, no longer as kind as it was before.
“Only one in the Atlantic. There are two more. One in the Pacific and one in the Indian,” Damien responded, still wondering what the creature meant by destruction.
“One in the Pacific and one in the Indian,” the creature repeated, seemingly intrigued by this information. “So the rumors about the Sorrevahni may be true. I am glad that you are proving useful.”
What the hell does that mean?
“I am glad that I can be helpful. Can I ask my own question now?”
The creature squinted its large eyes and craned its neck down. It hesitated, but then nodded and took a step back.
“I suppose so. If you feel it will help loosen your tongue.”
Damien swallowed nervously and looked the monster in its eyes.
“What did you mean when you sa
id ‘destruction’?” he asked.
The creature lowered its head and then looked up again. It seemed annoyed.
“Until recently, you were the only evolved-one that our people knew of. It was a shocking discovery, finding you,” the creature explained. “We examined your vessel and tried to find any signs of your kind. Search parties were sent out across the sea. When the first party finally made contact with the city, your people attacked ours and killed them like animals. As a result, your kind was promptly exterminated, though many were taken as prisoners.”
It felt as if Damien’s heart had stopped. He gasped for air, but could barely breathe. His body jolted as if he had lost control of his muscles. His arms rubbed against the invisible restraints, burning his skin like a flame. Tears rushed down his eyes and around his cheek.
Images of his family flashed before him like pictures on a pod. He could see his mother, his brother, even little Ophelia. They were all gone. Not only them, but my home, my job, my past. Everything he had known meant nothing now.
“Why?” he shouted, managing to find the exact word this time.
He shook the table, banging himself against the metal slab. He was sure to be covered in bruises by the time this was over.
“Calm down, evolved-one,” it said in a quiet tone.
Damien tried to calm down. He stopped flailing and took long, deep breaths, though the tears continued to stream down his face.
“As you can imagine, being that you were the only specimen we had at the time, my people wished to thoroughly study you and your anatomy. The decision was made to keep you in prolonged hibernation so that we could examine you more easily. Your preservation was valuable, you see. However, upon the discovery of your entire colony, there are many more prisoners like you now. You, Kho Damien Saljov, are no longer as valuable. That is why I have awoken you at last.”