They both pushed the section hard, grunting as it slid a few inches at a time. The movement encouraged them to push harder and to keep trying. Juliet kept expecting to hear an alarm. The block, which turned out to be only about six inches thick, was pushed aside.
The hallway was dark and if not for the ambient light from the sun, she wouldn’t have been able to see anything. Her nose itched and she went to scratch it. The palm of her hand was coated in a thin layer of brown dust. “I don’t think we need to worry about anyone giving us trouble. It doesn't look like this place has been visited in a long time.”
“Not entirely true, there is no dust on the things in here.”
“So, do we go out?”
“Yes, like you said, the more intelligence we get the better off we’ll be.”
“I’m sorry I said that now.” Juliet crawled through the tiny hole. When she was clear, she stood up and brushed the dust off her uniform.
Professor Ricter followed, stood, and brushed himself clean as well. The air smelled stale. It was just cold enough for her to see a small cloud of steam come from her mouth when she breathed. She was thankful her uniform was well insulated. Professor Ricter pointed at his right. “I think we should go that way.”
“Why?”
“Well, to the left is total darkness, to the right we have some light from the sun peaking through. I’m guessing there are windows in other rooms and some of their doors might be open. In any case, I can see more light this way than that.”
“Good enough reason for me,” Juliet said.
Disturbed clouds of dust followed them as they walked. The tiny debris filled Juliet’s nose and she stifled a sneeze. “They’re going to start wondering what happened to us, we were only supposed to be away on a break.”
“Let the Commander worry. Besides, do you think they’ll actually find us?”
“That wormhole wasn’t too hard to find.”
“Ah, but would they recognize it for what it is?”
As they walked down the hallway, both heard a clicking sound which caused her and the Professor to jump. A door slid open and, with nowhere to go or hide, they both ran to a wall and pressed hard against it.
The first things they saw were two antennas, each one as long as a human arm. They twitched around probing the air. They were attached to a coal-black orb which could only be a head. The alien repulsed Juliet but she did not say anything as the body, long, flat, brown with a tough armor shell walked. A dozen tiny legs, six on each side, supported the body. Each leg made a soft clicking noise as it moved out from the door.
The thing skittered down the hallway away from them. Professor Ricter, who must have been holding his breath, let the air out. It wasn’t loud, but the thing must have heard it. It stopped and turned. Then it lifted itself up, only four back legs supported the entire body. The remaining legs twitched and moved around in seemingly random patterns. It stood at least six feet. Its antenna moved back and forth, searching the air.
On its belly Juliet could see several holes. She wondered what they were, what function did they serve on this alien body? They seemed to throb opening and closing, back and forth. The creature jumped a few inches off the ground and slammed its back feet. The sound echoed down the hallway loudly. The alien stopped moving its limbs. It stood perfectly still for a few seconds before jumping again. Juliet had to hold her ears and close her eyes as the sound seemed to go through her and into the wall. Once again, the alien did not move. One of the holes in its body opened, and an aerosol light mist spit out. Juliet smelled apple pie mixed with peaches.
Its antenna twitched a few more times before it lowered itself to the ground and continued on its way down the hallway. Juliet watched, fascinated by the movement of all the limbs working together.
When it was gone Professor Ricter said, “Reminds me of a centipede.”
“Do you think that was a Handler?”
“Yes, I think it was.” He looked at the small door from which it had come out. “And I think we should explore that room, see what else is in there.”
“I had a feeling you were going to say that,” Juliet replied. “And I guess you don’t want to contact the Commander?”
“He’s got other things to worry about I’m sure,” The Professor replied with a grin.
“What if there are more in there?”
“I don’t think we have much to worry about. As long as we’re quiet we should be okay. I don’t think they can see very well or else we’d have been caught. That would also explain why there aren’t any lights but not why they have windows. Odd, maybe they use windows for another purpose? Damn, I wish I knew the answer to that. Do you smell roast turkey?”
“No, I did smell apple pie with peaches.”
“Hmm, interesting. I wonder why that is.”
“Do you have a theory?”
“Not right now, but I’m sure I will.” Professor Ricter knelt down and pushed on the plate. He heard a click, and it slide open.
“See anything?”
“No, it’s dark. I’m not looking forward to crawling again, but I don’t see any other choice. Are you ready?”
“Let’s go,” Juliet replied. She followed the Professor into the darkened room.
******
Marjorie snapped her eyes opened and found herself sitting with her head down on a wooden table. The faint smell of cinnamon filled the air. That's what had woken her up, that unusual smell. She blinked as her eyes tried to adjust to the harsh light of the barren room.
The walls and floor were white and boring. She saw no doors, no windows, just the bare walls, the chair she sat on, and a wooden table. It all seemed familiar somehow, as if she had been in this room before, a shadow of a memory that brushed against her and was gone.
She looked down and saw she was wearing one of her formal uniforms. This was the blue one with the dark-blue skirt and matching leggings. Marjorie hated wearing a skirt. White gloves covered her hands. Pinned under her left shoulder were dozens of metals, most of which she didn’t recognize or earn. She pulled her gloves off and stuffed them into her jacket pocket.
Marjorie stood from the chair and walked over to the wall then placed her hand on it. It was cold and solid. She lightly tapped it with her finger and heard no echo, nothing to indicate there was anything beyond. She slapped her hand against it, the snapping sound she made echoed through the room. Then, just to satisfy herself, she punched it. Solid and thick, that’s what it was, impossible to bust through.
She walked back to the table and placed her hand its top. She tried to move it but it was just as solid as the wall. Marjorie had no idea where she was or how she got there. She thought of the last thing she remembered, Newman killing himself after drugging her, later the feeling of unease as something entered the room, and after that nothing. That feeling of unease crept up her spine.
A door materialized from the wall in front of her and a man walked in. She stopped in her tracks as he looked at her. The eyes, they were deep black, penetrating. She knew this man. She had seen him before in a dream, a dream she had when she was on the Arwen. This room was from the dream as well. A sensation of dread stiffened her muscles and weakened her legs. She sat down just as the door faded back into the wall.
The man wore a grey suit with a black tie. His slacks were creased to perfection. His black shoes were polished enough to reflect the light from ceiling. His hair greased down and parted neatly in the middle. A red handkerchief stuck out from his suit’s left pocket. A chain hung from his belt and disappeared into his right pocket. The man carried a clipboard which he placed on the table before pulling the chair out and sitting down.
Marjorie knew she was looking into the face of the enemy. This man was the one responsible for bringing the Arwen here. He was the one who kept Newman alive to continue to live his lonely life. This man and whatever race he belonged too needed to be fought. With a strong, stern voice she asked, “Who are you and what is going on?”
“All you
r questions will be answered,” he said. “In good time. First, I need to explain to you the situation you’re in.”
“Okay, that’s a good start.” Captain Cook replied leaning back and folding her arms across her chest.
“First of all, let me apologize for this place. It takes a while for the computers to be able to render your thoughts efficiently enough to let you build the environments. This is a default room.”
“I figured this wasn’t real. So, where am I?”
“You are in your dream state. This is the place where dreams happen. Right now, your body is still on the couch, there are several dozen Handlers; we would prefer if you called us that since you could never pronounce our names, waiting for my report. Thanks to many years of trial and error with the other human we have figured out ways to stimulate the part of your brain that allows you to dream. We find dreams rather fascinating since none of the races we have come upon dream.”
Captain Cook was taken aback. She had never thought of dreaming as a human, or Earth, thing. She would have to ask the Commander if he dreamed next time she saw him.
“It was the first time we were ever really able to communicate with him and we think he enjoyed the experiments. He told us that it was the only time he could interact with other people, even if those people were imaginary. It brought us joy and taught us a lot about your race.”
“If you know so much, what do you need me for?”
“Because, of all the things he taught us he could never tell us what we really needed to know. Where is Earth?”
“You know I’m not going to tell you that,” Captain Cook replied crossing her legs. She hated the fact she had to pull her skirt down so it would stay below her knees. Why couldn’t they have put me in pants? She thought.
“I’m sure Captain Ruzoto told you we live a very long time.”
“How long exactly?”
“I have lived long enough to see this star be born. I have lived long enough to see my old home die. I will live long enough to see your sun go nova. I hope to live long enough to see the end of the universe, maybe that’s when I’ll die.”
“And you all live this long?”
“There has never been a case where one of us has died of old age. We can die in accidents of course. Suicide is another option. We don’t age, so we don’t die. We don’t die, the population continues to grow. We need a place to stay. We need resources, and building spheres is the perfect solution for us. This sphere will fill up soon, and we’ll need to move to another one. We want that one to be Earth.”
“There are plenty of stars, why Earth?”
“Because you will grow, you will expand out into the solar system and you will find us and we will compete with each other for resources. We can’t have that. We need to stop you now before you get too big.”
“We could live together in peace. The universe is a big place.”
“Not big enough!” He yelled, his dark eyes grew larger with his sudden outburst of rage. “We’ll keep growing, keep expanding. We'll need it all, all the energy of the universe to survive. We'll need it all before it’s gone because we will be around until it’s gone. Don’t you understand, we need to be the last and we will be the last.”
Captain Cook realized what was at stake. It wasn’t just Earth or Ulliam. It was the whole galaxy, the whole universe they were after.
Chapter twenty
The room was very odd looking. Some object hung from the walls while others were planted firmly on the floor. The room smelled to Juliet like chocolate cupcakes, Professor Ricter said it smelled to him like vanilla pudding. The only light came from the glow of the sun through a small set of polarized windows.
“I wonder if they are blind,” Professor Ricter said.
“They have windows, why would they have windows if they were blind?”
“Perhaps they can only see light,” he replied. “That thing looked right at us and didn’t see us, maybe it can only make out shapes.”
“What about the smells?” Juliet asked walking over to the strange object on the wall. She ran her fingers across it, no screen, no keyboard, nothing to indicate what it was.
“I still don’t know,” Professor Ricter knelt down to look at another nondescript box. “I have a theory but I would need to test it.”
“How?” She asked pressing what looked like a button. From a tiny hole located on the top of the box shot out a white mist. It hit Juliet in the face, and she stumbled backward holding her hands up to her eyes. She let out a short involuntary yelp.
The Professor was there in an instant. He quickly undid his tie to wipe the stuff off her face. “Interesting, this smells like strawberries.”
“Well good for it.” Juliet replied sarcastically while rubbing her eyes. “What was that?”
“I think it’s how they communicate, or one of the ways. I think they have a scent based language and that’s why we keep smelling odd things when they’re around.”
“Why do both of us smelling different things?”
He gave it careful thought before answering. “Our minds can’t understand what we’re smelling. Scent is underdeveloped in humans. Perhaps we are being assaulted by fragrances we don’t know or understand so the mind is filling in the details thus, strawberries for me and you?” He pointed to her expecting her to finish the sentence.
She cleared her throat and replied. “Banana cream pie.”
“The way we interpret the scents could say a lot about our personality. Perhaps you want some pie.” She lightly punched his shoulder and, to her surprise, he smiled. “I don’t think we’ll be able to find anything here. We have enough information to take back to the Captain. Come on, let’s go.”
They both froze when they heard a click and saw the door slide open. The Professor grabbed Juliet but the arm and pulled her into a darkened corner.
Several Handlers skittered in, stamping their feet on the ground, creating a noise that sounded like someone dumping a box of nails onto a steel table. Juliet heard puffing sounds as they communicated with each other and the room quickly filled with a light mist that hovered above her ankles. She was unable to see her feet in the yellow haze.
Then, all seven of them lifted themselves up above the mist and walked over to the strange boxes that were on the wall. They seemed to be agitated, but that was something Juliet couldn’t be sure of.
The boxes came to life, filling the rooms with strange scents. The boxes on the ground rumbled, sending vibrations through the floor. The Handlers replied back by spraying the screens with scents and tapping the ground.
“I’m thinking they not only communicate with scent but with vibrations.”
Juliet nodded, not wanting to say anything. How sensitive were their ears? Juliet looked carefully at the black orb that she assumed were their heads looking for ears. Not finding anything that even closely resembled an ear. She looked at the stalks and saw them twitching. They don’t have ears or noses, the antennas detected everything.
Professor Ricter leaned in again. “I think the antenna are-“
Juliet stopped him but placing her hand on his mouth. “I know. I figured it out. Now be quiet, we don’t know how sensitive they are.” She looked at him and saw a look of amusement on his face. Why does he have a bad reputation? She thought, he seemed pleasant enough for me.
They continued to work, tapping the ground, sending out scents, turning to each other and repeating the process. Juliet was fascinated by what she was seeing and wondered what they could possibly be talking about. She was sure the arrival of the Arwen was interesting, but they were on the Sphere now and surely they couldn’t be talking about that. Or could they? What was happening over there?
The stress of the situation, the body heat from nine bodies and the fact the room was warm to begin with caused Juliet to sweat. She felt droplets forming on her back, soaking her shirt. She padded the sweaty beads on her forehead.
One of the Handlers slammed his feet onto the ground loudly startling
Juliet and the Professor. The other Handlers stopped. They all moved their stalks around the room, not twitching like before, purposefully moving them back and forth.
“I don’t like this,” Professor Ricter said.
Juliet looked at the Professor and saw he too was sweating. “I think it’s our sweat.” She whispered. “They might be able to detect our body odor.”
One of the Handlers snapped its antenna over to her voice. She stopped talking and looked at the Professor. He ran his fingers across his lips telling her to zip it. She nodded. He pointed to the ground. The mist from their conversations floated a few feet above it.
Professor Ricter crouched under the mist and started crawling. He got to her ankle and tugged on it, urging her to get down with him. She sighed and did her best to breathe through her mouth. Even the taste of the short conversation nearly caused her to dry heave. She tried her best to gauge how far away the door was and wondered if she could hold her breath until they made it. I have to try. She lifted her head above the mist and breathed in deeply, then held it as she moved under again.
Slowly, the two of them inched toward the door. Juliet had no idea what they would do once they got there but she suspected it would be to open it, crawl through as fast as they could, and then run toward the wormhole. It was going to take a long time and she didn't think she could hold her breath for that long.
She looked over when heard the sound of multiple feet tap on the ground. One of the Handlers was right next to her. She saw its armor, saw how the plates overlapped each other to form a shell that would be very hard to penetrate. She looked at his feet to see a wave-like pattern on the pad. Thin hairs on the feet swept across the floor.
Juliet reached out and grabbed the Professor by his foot. He stopped moving and looked back. She couldn’t tell him what she saw, couldn’t tell him to stop because it looked like the Handler was probing the ground with the feelers, trying to sense any vibrations on the floor. At least that’s what she thought they were doing; there was no way to tell.
Her lungs ached, and she wanted to exhale. Would they feel that? Were those feelers and antennas sensitive enough to feel a slight difference in the air current?
The Arwen Book two: Manifest Destiny Page 15