Fallen Metropolis (Omnibus Edition)

by Matthew J. Barbeler

  “Those screws around the top aren’t just there for decoration. Unscrew those, slip the hose off the casing, then go poking around.”

  The kid unscrewed the hose, slipped it off, and then thrust the hook-ended stick into the pipe.

  “Good work, kid. Just keep going. When you feel it catch on something, pull hard,” Bill yelled.

  While the kid attempted to clear the blockage, Bill walked back over to the meteorite. He held his good hand over it. It was still too hot to pick up. The dark maroon liquid had started to seep out of the cracks and pool underneath it, as though the meteorite bled. A dread thought crossed his mind. What if the steam that had burned his hand wasn’t just steam?

  Bill cursed himself for being stupid. It was just a meteorite. There could have been ice crystals running through the damn thing, and they’d melted. That was all.

  The kid grunted as he hooked something. He pulled down hard and something gave. Jaxon pulled the stick out of the hose. Jaxon threw the offending obstruction toward Bill as he closed the pipe and engaged the locks again.

  An old shoe covered in blue coolant landed in front of Bill.

  “A shoe? How in the void did that get in there?” Bill asked to himself.

  “I remember one of the techs saying they lost a shoe a couple of weeks ago, but they didn’t say how or where! I think we found it!” Jaxon laughed.

  Bill could only shake his head.

  After Jaxon reconnected the pipe, he climbed down the tower and went back to the console. He looked back at Bill as if to ask whether he could re-engage pipe twelve himself. Bill nodded, and Jaxon opened the flow channels back through pipe twelve. The air temperature started to drop slowly and stabilized.

  “Well done. Throw that shoe out, then head back to Dom and tell him I gave you the rest of the day off,” Bill said.

  “Are you sure? I can help you get rid of that meteorite if you want,” Jaxon said and started to walk toward it.

  A sudden feeling of panic came over Bill. He couldn’t let the kid touch the meteorite. He didn’t know how, but he knew it was dangerous.

  “No! No. It’s fine. I’ll deal with that little thing. You head back to Dom and do whatever it is you kids do in your time off.”

  Jaxon looked downtrodden. In the distance Bill heard two dogs fighting.

  “Damn it, how many times have I told people to keep the animals out of the maintenance tunnels? Kid, do one last job for me – go sort those dogs out when you go,” Bill said.

  “Not a problem,” Jaxon said as he left.

  Bill walked back toward the meteorite and stood next to it. The thing still radiated heat. It should have started to cool off, but it was just as hot as when it cracked open. Bill knelt next to it and looked down into one of the cracks on the surface. The edges were moist, and the pool of liquid at the base was larger now. There was a sweet coppery tang in the air.

  Bill walked to the exit and started taking down the purple restricted access tape the MetroCorp Officers left behind. The bastards didn’t even have the decency to clean up after themselves.

  A dog yelped in the distance. The soft sound of paws pounding metal echoed down the corridor. Jaxon yelled from further down the tunnel, but by the time Bill turned around one of the dogs was already sniffing around the meteorite.

  “Get away from there, you mutt! You’re not even supposed to be down here!” Bill yelled and rushed toward the dog in an effort to scare it off.

  It was the big one. While there weren’t really stray dogs on the Metropolis Seven, there were some that didn’t have owners. That black and gold mutt was the leader of a pack of five dogs who saw the maintenance tunnels as their territory. No matter how many times they were caught and turned out, they found a way back in.

  The dog looked up at Bill and bared its teeth. Not many dogs would hold eye contact with a human for too long, but this one had an attitude. At a glance it appeared that it had some Alsatian in it from the shape of its muzzle and its coloring, but it was hard to tell. The dog growled and lowered its head down to the meteorite without breaking eye contact.

  “Get away, you stupid bastard! You’ll burn yourself!” Bill advanced as he flailed his arms above his head.

  The dog remained in place, then snapped forward and tried to bite the meteorite in an attempt to drag it away. The heat seared the dog’s tongue as it tried to bite down. It yelped in surprise, turned tail and ran. The dog ran into the tunnel with its tail between its legs. It looked back at Bill as though the pain it endured was his fault.

  Chapter Three

  The burn mustn’t have been as bad as Bill first thought. The pain in his hand faded as his stomach started to rumble. He hadn’t eaten for almost eight hours and he was incredibly hungry. Before he could sate his appetite he still had to take care of the meteorite.

  It was still too hot to touch, but Bill couldn’t wait around until it cooled off by itself. He was starving. The easiest way to cool it down enough to handle it was to spray it down with water. While he didn’t have any water on hand, there were some water-based fire extinguishers he could use. Bill pulled an extinguisher from the wall, walked back to the meteorite and sprayed it.

  Steam rose as the meteorite cracked open. The rocky outside crumbled. The inside wasn’t solid at all. Bill swore. Getting rid of it would be more difficult that he first thought. He didn’t want to touch the damned thing. There was something wrong about it.

  Bill grabbed a bucket and a shovel. He shoveled the crumbled rock into the metal bucket. After a few shovels full of debris, a thin film of maroon liquid remained in the indentation in the floor. Bill grabbed a mop and soaked up as much liquid as he could.

  Bill dropped the mop into the bucket and carefully lifted it by the handle. He held it out in front of him like a dangerous weapon. He left the air-con tower and headed toward the closest waste disposal chute.

  Instead of emptying the bucket and wringing the mop, Bill dropped the whole thing down the chute. The waste compactor started up as the mop and bucket slid down into the depths of the ship. The trash compactor crushed the remainder of the meteorite into a small cube, ready for disposal next time they made landfall. The liquid ran off to the water treatment plant to be purified before being added into the Metropolis Seven’s water supply.

  Bill stopped in his tracks when he heard the dog growl again. He hadn’t even heard the mutt coming. Sweat broke out on his forehead as he turned. He yelled at an empty corridor.

  There was no dog. It was just his stomach growling. He needed some food. He was ravenous.

  It was dark when he left the maintenance tunnels. The artificial sun at the top of the ship was dimmed to shimmering silver. If Bill squinted, he could almost pretend he was looking at a full moon on New Earth. He sighed as he thought about his home.

  He’d lived his whole life on New Earth before taking the contract with the Metropolis Corporation. He fled from his old life after his wife Emily died. They met shortly after Bill finished school and were married just shy of 20 years before Emily was vaporized by a man who fell asleep at the helm of his personal transport.

  There was nothing left of her. They could only tell she was one of the victims because it was the last place her comm unit was synced before it lost connection for the last time. Bill hoped that it was a mistake. That she was still out there somewhere. That one day, she would come home. But she didn’t. At the funeral there was an empty coffin.

  Everything Bill once knew fell apart. He fell into a deep depression. He lost his wife, his job, his house and his friends. He almost lost himself, too. He probably would have if it hadn’t been for Emily’s enduring spirit of adventure.

  She always teased Bill about his hesitation to get out of his home town and explore the galaxy. After she was gone, and he’d lost everything, there was nothing else tethering him. For the first time in his life he actually wanted to leave Tannaron, with no particular destination in mind. When the opportunity came for Bill to explore the galaxy while stil
l having a steady job and a home to go to, he couldn’t find a reason not to put his name down.

  The dimly lit streets of the Metropolis Seven were his home now. He didn’t know what he’d do once the voyage was over. He’d deal with that when the time came. At that moment there was only one thing he had to deal with – his rumbling stomach.

  Just down the road the sign for the MetroCorp Diner was lit. A maintenance worker could always count on them to serve up greasy breakfast food no matter the time of day. A holographic globe of New Earth spun atop the diner’s roof, while a small Metropolis Corporation spacecraft orbited it.

  Bill walked into the diner and looked for a table. As to be expected so early in the morning, the diner was almost deserted. A couple of sanitation workers laughed over coffee in a booth in the corner. An exhausted street cleaner slumped over on her table. She breathed slow and steady. She had fallen asleep. There were also a group of five twenty-somethings who hadn’t lived long enough to realize that a good night’s sleep was one of the greatest gifts a person could give themselves.

  After everything he’d been through that night, Bill wanted to be close to people. There was no one on board the ship that he was truly close to, so this ragtag assortment of night-owls would have to do. He slid into the booth behind the sanitation workers and waited for a server to attend him.

  Jimmy walked out of the kitchen and smiled when he saw Bill. He called out from across the diner. “You need a menu tonight, Bill?”

  “I’m feeling a little out of sorts tonight, Jimmy. You better bring one over. Just in case,” Bill said.

  Jimmy grabbed a menu, a couple of creamers and a freshly brewed pot of coffee. Bill turned a coffee cup over, ready to be filled. Jimmy poured, and Bill’s mouth watered. He became keenly aware of the smells around him. The sanitation worker’s coffee. The sweet and salty scents from the twenty-somethings’ syrup-covered bacon, french toast, waffles, butter…

  Bill swallowed.

  He wanted it all.

  He was so hungry.

  Jimmy put down the menu and the creamer in front of Bill.

  “You have a look over that menu, and I’ll be right back with you in a few minutes, okay?” Jimmy asked.

  Bill had to resist the urge to tell Jimmy that he didn’t care what he brought out. As long as there were mountains of it. An image of a pile of crispy, sizzling bacon popped into Bill’s head. His mouth watered. He was so hungry.

  “Bacon and eggs. Eggs over easy,” Bill said. Then he heard himself continue without meaning to, “and a pile of bacon on the side.”

  Jimmy smiled. The lines around his eyes crinkled as he laughed. “A pile of bacon? Is that a technical term?”

  “Just… a shitload of bacon. And syrup. Lots of syrup,” Bill said.

  Jimmy cocked an eyebrow. “You feeling okay, Bill? You don’t normally take syrup with your bacon.”

  Bill smiled. “My wife always said I need to try new things. Figured I might as well give syrup and bacon a shot.”

  “You got it chief,” Jimmy said and took the menu.

  “Oh, and can I get some sugar? For my coffee.”

  “Sure thing,” Jimmy said and disappeared into the back of the diner.

  He came back a few minutes later with a handful of single-serve sugar sachets in a white ceramic dish. Bill took three sachets and tore the tops from them all at once. He dumped the white sugar into his coffee and stirred. He added two creamers and lifted the cup to his lips.

  The moment the sweet coffee touched his tongue it felt like a warm blanket had wrapped him. His skin buzzed. His bandaged hand started to feel warm in a pleasant sort of way. Bill gulped the coffee down until it was gone and tapped his fingers impatiently on the table.

  By the time Jimmy returned Bill was aching for another coffee. The sweetness of the sugar and the bitterness of the coffee still lingered on his tongue. He wanted more.

  “Need a refill?” Jimmy asked.

  Bill held his mug out and Jimmy began to pour. “Can you just leave the pot?” he asked.

  Jimmy laughed.

  “I’m serious.”

  “I can’t just leave the pot, Bill. But I can give you a top up any time you want.”

  “Why can’t you leave the pot?” Bill asked.

  “Company policy my good man. I’m sorry, but I can’t just leave the pot. It’s a health and safety risk. You might burn yourself. But as I said, I’m more than happy to-”

  Bill’s temper flared, “I’ve already burned myself tonight. I’ve seen another man get his leg blown off by a meteorite, and all I want is some damn coffee!”

  The color drained from Jimmy’s face. “Look, I’m sorry. It sounds like you’ve had a rough night. A meteorite? Damn.” Jimmy slid into the booth across from Bill. He put the coffee pot down on a couple of stacked menus. “The coffee pot can stay here as long as I’m here. What happened?”

  Bill started to talk and didn’t stop until the events of the night were told. He told Jimmy about Merrick’s leg, the MetroCorp Security Officers, the dogs, and everything else all the way up until he walked into the diner. By the time he’d stopped the coffee pot was empty, as was the sugar bowl.

  “Pardon my less-than-professional language here, but fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. Is Merrick going to be okay?” Jimmy asked. Before Bill had a chance to reply the bell chimed from the back. “One second,” Jimmy said and walked toward the kitchen.

  He came back with one plate of bacon, eggs over easy and thick sliced toast smothered in butter. In his other hand was a plate of crispy bacon piled so high that it threatened to topple over.

  “I believe you requested a pile of bacon?” Jimmy said with a smile.

  He put both plates down on the table and Bill smothered the pile of bacon in syrup. He loaded a slice of toast with bacon, put the egg on top, and then drizzled syrup over the whole thing. It dripped down his fingers, and into the folds of the bandage wrapped around his burnt hand. He ate insatiably. The sweetness filled him. He barely took enough time to breathe.

  “Are you sure you’re feeling okay, Bill?”

  “Whadduh yahmeen?” he asked, his mouth stuffed with bacon.

  “I’ve seen you hungry before. But never like this. It’s like you haven’t eaten in days”

  Bill laughed, then half choked. “It feels like I haven’t eaten for a thousand years.”

  Jimmy laughed nervously. “Well you pass my best wishes onto Merrick. Hopefully it won’t be long until we dock again – he’ll be able to get a new leg easy as that. MetroCorp will pick it up, seeing as though it happened when he was on the clock. You can be sure about that.”

  “Thanks, I’ll tell him,” Bill said.

  Jimmy got up and tended to the other tables. Bill finished the last strips of bacon. He didn’t use a knife and fork. He gripped them with his hands and shoveled them into his mouth. Once all the food in front of him was gone he leaned back in the booth and sighed with satisfaction.

  Bill stared at the syrup and grease covered bandages over his hand for a moment before he lifted them to his lips. A combination of sweetness and salt flooded into his mouth as he sucked on the soaked bandages.

  One of the young group covered their mouth and whispered. “Can you see what that guy’s doing? Ugh, that is disgusting!”

  Two of them spun in their seats to snatch a glance at Bill. They turned back around when they realized what he was doing.

  One of the young girls retched and said, “I think I’m going to be sick.”

  A moment later she was on her feet as she rushed to the bathroom. Bill heard them, saw them, but took no notice.

  The taste was overwhelming. He flicked his tongue into the folds of the fabric to get at the sweetness inside. His tongue felt an odd texture on the palm of his hand. Most of the burn felt rough before the bandages were wrapped. But it felt like there was something smooth there now. Bill flicked his tongue over the smooth part again. It was raised and curved like a small flat blister.

  A
blister!

  Of course it was a blister. That’s what skin did when it was burned.

  But there wasn’t just one blister.

  Bill heard some commotion from the tables around him, but he was focused on his hand. There was something on it. He wanted to see them. Whatever they were… he had to see them. He needed to know how bad his wound looked.

  He unclasped the clip at the back of the bandage and unraveled it. He unwrapped it from around his wrist, then across his knuckles, then across his palm, across his knuckles, across his palm… He became lost in the rhythmic motion. With every movement a little more of his injured flesh was revealed.

  The white skin around the burn had begun to peel back from the undamaged layers of skin underneath. What he saw on that new flesh confused him. A series of dark purple welts were raised in a perfect circle. The flesh in between them was thick and pink, as though new skin was already growing to replace the layer that had been destroyed.

  Bill sighed with relief. They were just blood blisters. He remembered having one on his thumb when he was much younger, from when he pinched it in a pair of pliers.

  The blisters didn’t hurt, but it might nasty if left untreated. Another trip to the medstation was in order.

  Bill raised a finger from his other hand and prodded one of the welts. The flesh shredded like tissue paper. Tiny black specks floated out of the newly formed hole. They drifted into the air as he inhaled sharply in confusion. Before he could close his mouth a stream of air filled with black specks was sucked into in his throat, his lungs and onto his face. Bill coughed. He tried to clear the air of the black specks by waving his hands in front of himself.

  The specks danced on the wind Bill made with his flurry of motion. Bill stood up from his booth and staggered backward into a table behind him. Jimmy came over to see what was going on. A couple of fry cooks popped their heads out of the back. The other diners got to their feet and tried to get away from the crazy man flailing wildly at empty air.

  But the air wasn’t empty. It was filled with tiny black spores. The cloud spread quickly.