Titan: A Science Fiction Horror Adventure (NecroVerse Book 3)

by Aaron Bunce

  “Sir?” Grady asked.

  Twenty-ish years old. Six feet tall, maybe two-hundred pounds.

  Manis’ head snapped up, his eyes dancing between the young man and the waiting screen. He hastily shoved his sweaty, bleeding hands into his pockets and walked forward.

  “Yes. Yes. Yes,” he stammered, all the while counting the metal floor panels.

  “Just around here. I’ll set you up and then leave you to your business.”

  Manis avoided the young man’s name tag and face. He had freckles–almost as bad as letters and numbers. They were clumped on his cheeks, nose, and forehead, unorganized and random.

  “Just log in here with your corporate identification number. We have an implant scanner for faster access, but it stopped working like three months ago. Just something else that needs to be fixed. Pull down this window here, type your message in, and hit send. Our coms array is old, but at our current range, radio message packets should reach Mars in four or five days.”

  Four. Five. Days. Ninety-six to one hundred and twenty hours before it can be received, logged, opened, and read?

  “Yell if you have any questions, sir.”

  “Why so long? Hyde laser surge coms have a delay of only eight minutes.” Four hundred and eighty seconds.

  “All the fleet freighters are outdated, by a mile, sir. Sorry about that. Radio traffic would be faster, like sixty minutes delay, or something like that, but you know how Planitex is about message authenticity and security. Radio packets have to be routed through coms hubs, which receives, authenticates, and relays along to the next. Half the time there is a backlog, and they lose so much time between each relay. Let me know if you have any questions.”

  The coms officer was gone then, quickly disappearing somewhere in the maze of monitors and short bulkheads. Manis pulled his hands out of his pockets and swept at the curved screen, the brief contact leaving a dark smear on the glossy surface. He wiped it off with his sleeve.

  Should he ask the captain about an alternate freezer–some safer place to store doctor Misra’s samples? No, he wouldn’t tell them about the samples. They didn’t need to know. Only that he needed a freezer. That was normal. It was to be expected. Nor was it their position to pry. He was an executive, after all.

  –10 degrees and climbing.

  Manis highlighted the addressee box and started to type as a door hissed open somewhere behind him. Noise followed–raised voices, floor panels shifting. He typed out his superior’s full address, methodically recreating the long string.

  More voices added to the din of noise, and despite the draw, the need to send his message, he turned and looked. A small crowd of people stood around Captain Cordyczk, their hands and mouths moving. The nurse was one of them, front and center, a hand cradling a bandage to her head. Her eyes swiveled around and locked onto him, and slowly, her arm raised, an extended pointer finger leveling right at him.

  2125 Hours

  “This is some kind of messed up, stim-induced nightmare. It has to be,” Jacoby said, closed his eyes, and slapped his face. “I’ll just wake up on the floor in the bathroom after I got sick, and everything will be normal. Normal. Normal. We’ll all be back on Hyde and things will be normal. Once I open my eyes.”

  Jacoby waited, took a deep breath, and opened his eyes. Unfortunately, he was still on the Betty. The engine room had fallen into an abrupt and surprisingly uncomfortable silence. Soraya squeezed his shoulder. Yes, she’d moved away a step, but closed the distance once again and grabbed his arm. A spark ignited between then, the biofeedback jolting up his spine and into his brain.

  Yes, I’m scared, but not of you. I’m in your corner. We’re stronger together.

  “Coby, I had no idea…” Anna said, finally turning to him.

  Of course, you didn’t. You haven’t given me the time to tell you anything since we got off that godforsaken station, Jacoby thought, his irrational anger snapping up inside him like a whip. He shook the quick impulse away and tried to stuff it back down below. It’s not her. Stop getting mad.

  “I didn’t want to bother you,” he said, spitting out the lie before he could say something he’d regret.

  Anna looked from his mouth to his eyes and flinched back a half-step. He knew she could sense his doubt and anger, her confusion no doubt fueled by the contradiction in what he said versus what he was feeling.

  Jacoby reached for her just as the bio-circuitry woven throughout her left eye surged with blue light. His hand froze in the air between them, the anger rising again.

  It’s not her anymore.

  Yes, it is.

  He saved her.

  No. He put her in harm’s way. It’s not even her anymore.

  The thoughts spiraled as he tried to push the anger away. But the hurt, the resentment, wouldn’t go away. It moved in the back of his head, darting and leaping between his thoughts like a slippery serpent, pecking at his raw and exposed nerves. How long would it be before she turned her back on him again? What would she say if he actually told her all the things he’d bottled up inside? Would she even understand?

  She is slipping away.

  Was he losing more of her every time she networked with the computer? Was Poole slowly taking her over?

  She will wake up one day and not know you.

  Would she simply get lost in that maze of circuitry and never return? The Betty’s eye pulsed bright in his vision, but how? He wasn’t even on the bridge anymore. Jacoby absently reached up and rubbed his eyes.

  “Did you hear me?” Anna asked, leaning in.

  She is talking to the computer about you, scheming with the devilish machinery.

  Was she still the Anna he knew? Or was she pretending…an imposter wearing his friend’s face?

  He tried to look away, but the light flared in her left eye again, backlighting the strange mazework of bioorganic circuitry covering her iris. It was right there, written in her gaze, and beyond, melded permanently into her flesh and blood…no, deeper. Her genetic code.

  “Can you hear me?”

  He heard Anna and Soraya, too, but the hurt, anger, and hunger stormed inside his skull, crashing through the partitions in his mind like a raging bull through the proverbial China shop.

  Jacoby dropped his gaze as his thoughts grew uncomfortable, catching on the dark patchwork crawling down her arm.

  She is a stranger inside and out. If she is a stranger, then she does not truly know you. If she doesn’t know you, then she can’t be trusted. If she can’t be trusted, then she is your enemy.

  Something squeezed around his hands. He blinked and managed to break his gaze free from the circuitry on her arm. His vision had tinged gold. The hue was already creeping quickly over everything, the toxic, angsty fire already tingling like violent poison in his chest, arms, and legs.

  Jacoby’s fingers popped, the compulsion to tear, break, and rip, wrapping around his resolve like a constrictor made up of pure wrath.

  “Coby!” Anna’s voice slammed into his ears, breaking through the heat and dispelling the angst like a wall of cold, cleansing water. He looked up. It wasn’t just Anna. Soraya held onto his other hand, both women struggling to hold him in place.

  “I…uh,” he stammered and shook his head. It took several moments, but he felt his mind pull back together. Somehow, the anger had stripped him apart, tearing away his reason like invisible fingers removing a banana peel.

  Movement caught his attention just over Anna’s right shoulder. The small doorway framed two women–one half a head shorter than the other. Emiko seemed to shrink back into the shadows as his gaze found hers. Lana considered him for a moment, before following the nurse, her dark brown hair framing and shadowing her eyes.

  They’d both watched the whole episode, but what did they see–Jacoby, Anna, and Soraya having a conversation with an invisible man? Jacoby almost losing his shit and starting to glow? Did they see him? Or a monster?

  If they didn’t think I was nuts before they definit
ely do now, he thought and swallowed hard. His next breath shuddered, his throat having grown uncomfortably tight.

  The reactor thrummed behind him, coolant bubbling and gurgling in the lines. A fan buzzed to life somewhere in the room, the subtle air currents rustling the hairs on one arm, while the fractional warmth from an overhead light hit the other. He focused his attention on each one in turn. It was a perfect representation of the battle inside his body–a split right down the middle. On one side, his calm, rational mind. And on the other, a broiling mix of unpredictable, borderline uncontrollable emotions. In the middle, a no man’s land he shared with a sarcastic alien tumor. And the lines separating them all were starting to break down.

  Anna and Soraya squeezed his hands again, the pressure helping him to narrow his thoughts.

  “Hey, are you okay? You kind of looked like your head was going to implode there for a minute,” Anna said.

  Shit. Not implode, but explode.

  “Honestly,” Jacoby said, clearing his throat and stretching his neck. “I don’t know. I don’t, uh, think so. I lost track of everything there for a moment.”

  “Lost track?” Soraya asked, echoing him quietly.

  Jacoby nodded, wanting to say so much more, but afraid of how it would sound. His anger had almost completely overtaken him. And worse, not only did he not feel it happen, but a part of him wanted it to.

  I’m an atomic bomb with a hair trigger. I’m dangerous.

  “I thought the hard part was behind us. That if we just found a way to survive, everything else would just fall into place. That it would all get easier. But…” Jacoby said, pausing and searching for the right words. He looked at Anna, her skin like unblemished porcelain, her eyes as cool and crisp as a summer sky. His eyes flicked over to Soraya, her large, silver-rimmed brown eyes studying him. She was Anna’s counterpoint.

  “We’ve got to figure everything out now. What our new normal is and how we all fit together. And if that is even possible. I mean, hell, there might not be a normal for us anymore,” Soraya said.

  Jacoby nodded.

  Normal? Yeah, that’s way behind us now.

  “Hey, I’m sorry. I know you’ve been trying to talk to me…that you’ve probably got a shitload of stuff you need to get off your chest. I know I’ve been distant. In truth…I don’t know, I guess I’ve been hiding from everything. It just felt easier to throw myself into the computer work. But I know it’s wrong. I need to talk, be a part of whatever happens next. And I know you need me.”

  He watched Anna talk, the dimples in her cheeks forming and releasing as she spoke and paused. He felt warmth blossom inside, but this time it wasn’t anger. This was Anna. The real one…his friend. He suddenly wondered how he’d come to doubt her, question her so easily. No. He hadn’t just doubted her. He’d resented her. Considered her a threat.

  I’m the worst of friends…truly, he thought, and wondered how far it would have gone if left unchecked. Would he hurt her, or someone else? Could he?

  They’d gotten this far together. Hell, they could do almost anything if they had each other.

  Something rattled in the hall just beyond the door, and they all turned as one to track the noise. A dark silhouette moved quickly into the hall and out of sight, the decking rattling lightly underfoot.

  “Emiko and Lana,” Soraya said, voicing the thought they all shared.

  “They saw that whole thing, but…”

  “They can’t see him,” Jacoby cut in, interrupting Anna. “They can’t see him like we can. So, they just watched us have a heated argument with…thin air. How long before they think we’ve lost our minds?”

  “You mean, if they don’t already,” Soraya said.

  “I literally just thought that,” Jacoby whispered. She nodded.

  “This is some weird shit. I think we need to sit down and talk…ya know, figure as much of it out as possible. Just the four of us. Then if we decide, we can talk to the others and hopefully make this shit as ‘least’ weird as possible.”

  “Agreed,” Jacoby laughed, but he didn’t feel any mirth. The idea of trying to explain his sardonic, invisible other side felt weird enough, but the prospect of admitting that his anger was a potentially explosive super nova of destructive potential nearly gave him an anxiety attack. “Although, I don’t know if there is a way to make any of this less weird. I think they’ll either believe us, or not. I know I wouldn’t.”

  Soraya smiled knowingly and nodded, but Anna stared off into space just over his right shoulder. It was several labored moments before she licked her lips and nodded her agreement.

  “We’ll figure this all out. Together,” Anna said. Her voice was quiet, yet undeniably strong. She squeezed his hand once more before letting go and walking away.

  2145 Hours

  Manis tried desperately to block out the angry shouts and noisy footsteps as he typed out his message. It was hard, and his focus split. The chaos made the words and numbers fuzzy. It made them move around in his head and difficult to find.

  Despite it all, Manis managed to replicate the message. It wasn’t really that long, after all. Not long, but important. His eyes snapped back up to the top and he read it from top to bottom. He found an unnecessary space, a few typos, an indent that wasn’t right. He fixed them all and before he could stop himself, started reading it again.

  Someone said his name. They weren’t that far away. Just behind the coms station, in fact. He read a sentence, made a correction, and continued.

  “Mr. Nazzar, can I interrupt you for just one moment please.”

  Yes, someone said his name. A man. Deep. The captain, the smell of his breath now evident on the close air–tea perhaps, something with spice…perhaps clove.

  He slapped his cheek to keep from turning. A dark smear appeared on the pale skin in his reflection. The message was almost perfect. After he read through it again, maybe twice more, he could be confident.

  No. They are right behind you. Send it now. They should not be privy to this information.

  “Mr. Nazzar, did you hear me? I think this is urgent enough that we address this now,” the captain said.

  The impulse squeezed his brain as Manis pulled his eyes to the top. Everything pulled him to continue reading, perfecting. No, not everything. Part of him knew he needed to send it before they could stop him. They would.

  A trembling finger slid up along the glossy screen and stopped just beyond the send icon, an accompanying wave of nausea rolling through his stomach.

  Needs to be perfect. They do not understand how important this is. They can wait.

  “Mr. Nazzar, please step away from the coms station. Please do so now!” Someone was right behind him, their weight shifting the floor panel enough that he could feel it. Their hands were on his chair, and then something settled on his right shoulder.

  “Now, sir,” they said.

  With a grunt, Manis managed to slide his finger up and hit the send button, even though he could not pull his eyes away from the message. It abruptly disappeared, the sudden shift from text to blank screen turning his stomach upside down.

  Manis turned, bent over, and vomited.

  “What? Oh my god!” a young man jumped back, the sick having caught his shoes and pant legs.

  Manis shuddered, the protein bars having yet to break up from their hastily chewed chunks. One lodged in the back of his mouth and he retched loudly, before two strong hands hooked him under the arms and pulled him around. The momentum swung him around, a hard bulkhead slamming into his back.

  “Get your goddamned hands…off me!” he growled, burping messily before he could finish.

  “I’m sorry. Did you not like that?”

  It wasn’t the coms officer that spoke, but another man. He was much taller, his hair closely cropped, a healthy growth of stubble covering his cheeks and chin. He wore a black, formfitting suit, overlayed with padded gray and white body armor.

  Station security. Six foot three, maybe four, two hundred and
nineteen pounds. The torn name tape on his chest read [Djaron, Fred]. French, maybe French-Canadian. Silent D…most likely pronounced with a “J” and emphasis on the “r”.

  Manis shook his obsessive impulses off, more easily done as his anger rose.

  “Do you have any idea who I am?”

  “I could care less, pal. We saw what you did to her out in the passageway. Saw you attack her when she was just trying to help you.”

  “Attack?” Manis asked, incredulously. He blew a raspberry, his lips and chin already coated and wet. The security officer’s scowl only deepened, the captain and bridge crew all crowding in behind him. A young woman–the nurse, stood amongst them, cradling a towel against the back of her head.

  He sputtered under the combined weight of their stares, the bridge monitors casting long shadows under and around their eyes. It made them look angry, but more so, frightfully skeletal.

  “I am the Junior Executive Assistant to station Directorate. I don’t have to answer to you.”

  “On Hyde, maybe. But we aren’t on Hyde anymore, pal. Here, you’re a nobody,” Fred said, crossing his arms over his chest.

  “Ah, no no no. This is a ship of the Planitex fleet. This…is company property and my authority extends here.” Manis felt a swell of pride rise inside as he pointed to the deck at his feet. But it withered quickly.

  “No. Sorry, pal. I don’t think so.”

  Manis glared at the security officer. On Hyde he would have undressed the man with a vicious tirade. Screamed himself red in the face. Then suspended him without pay and confined him to quarters for a week or two. Maybe even docked his pay or had the admins screw with his bonus percentage algorithm. He would have had a small consort of clerks with him, maybe even a few loyal security officers–ones he’d personally paid bonuses. But here…it was just him.

  “Regardless. I am ordering you to stand down, officer.”

  “Nah. You don’t get to just push people around and not answer for it.”