by James Axler
A rustling sound caught her ear and made Krysty half turn, looking for anything moving. But the aquatic forest was silent and still. She turned back to examining the console.
No wonder this shorted out, she thought. With this much moisture, any electronics would be bound to fail over a hundred years—
The rustle sounded louder now, and Krysty whirled, sure she’d heard something moving in the depths of the greenery. Again, she confronted the nearly impenetrable wall of green.
“Is someone there?” she asked, taking a step forward. No one answered. Somewhere deep in the room she could hear the drip-drip-drip of water splashing into a larger tank.
Best get Ryan in here to fix this, she thought as she turned to leave. But as she did, the rustling behind her intensified. Krysty had just started to turn back when what felt like several tentacles grabbed her around the arms and legs and pulled her off her feet. Another tentacle, this one wet and smelling like a plant, covered her mouth. Krysty struggled, but the bindings were joined by a dozen more, all of them pinning her limbs to her sides as they wrapped tighter and tighter around her body.
With an effort, Krysty managed to flop over to see what she had feared was happening. The large plant near the door was her captor! As she struggled to free herself, it began pulling her closer to the tank. When she was a few feet away, it actually began dragging her up the side of the glass. As she was lifted higher into the air, Krysty saw the bare skull of the plant’s last victim inside, its gaping eyeholes staring sightlessly back at her.
Now she was almost at the top and could see the middle of the plant, which looked like a strange version of a Venus flytrap crossed with some kind of plant that was able to move its tendrils.
But instead of delicate sensors that closed over a fly to form a cage while it was being digested, each head-size, hinged pod was ringed by black, needle-sharp fangs.
* * *
RYAN AND J.B. stepped out of the elevator that had taken them to the command center and into a place that felt absolutely dead.
Unlike the rest of the base, the command center—a central chair surrounded by banks of gray computer consoles and empty chairs—looked as neat and organized as if the cleaning crew had come in between shifts and gotten the entire place ready for the next shift. The room was empty, with no sign of Doc anywhere.
The shutter on a single window was open, and a powerful spotlight stabbed into the murky darkness outside. Ryan stepped over to it, seeing the beam illuminate a large patch of gray-tan sand. As he watched, something moved at the edge of the light, but it was gone before he could register exactly what it was. One thing was for sure—it was big.
Very big.
“Ryan.” J.B.’s voice pulled him away from the thick glass. “Over here.”
The Armorer was standing next to a door on the opposite side of the room from the elevator. It stood open, and Doc could be seen inside, slumped in a chair in front of a desk that was built into the wall, his head buried in his hands.
“Doc?” Ryan asked.
The old man swung around to see the two men. “Ryan! J.B.!” He motioned to both of them. “Come inside. You must be in here to see what I have to show you.”
The two men entered, and Doc slid the door closed behind them. Unlike the others, this one looked to be normally operated by hand. As with every other room he entered, Ryan checked the side of the door. The red orb in here had been smashed, as well, with the speaker destroyed, as well.
“What’d you find?” J.B. asked.
Doc straightened in his chair. “Do you recall how we were all wondering what, except for the weak-willed Captain Lucas and those poor bastards who were turned into cyborgs, had happened to the rest of the crew? Well, I seem to have found the answer.”
He leaned back to reveal a small device sitting on the table. It consisted of a small, flip-up monitor, with what looked like some kind of optical disk drive in the part that was resting on the desk. “The optical disk inside did not give up its secrets without effort,” he said as he reached out with a finger to press a button on the device. “We may get one more play out of it.”
The monitor flickered as it came to life, the static disappearing as a man’s head appeared on the screen. He looked horrible, with dark bags under his bloodshot eyes, a patchy beard, and deep wrinkles around his eyes and mouth. His salt-and-pepper hair was a mess, his cheek had a tan-colored bandage on it and he rubbed his mouth with a hand wrapped in a second bloody bandage. He leaned forward, as if checking something on the device he was using to make the recording. For a second, the picture froze, with several large, black squares appearing on the monitor. They cleared up after a few seconds, and he opened his mouth to speak.
* * *
“NOT LIKE THERE’S anyone who’s gonna see this, but this is Commanding Officer Martin Yates of the United States Naval Base Poseidon, recording my final message on April 1, 2006. With no hope of rescue, and unwilling to submit ourselves to the increasingly irrational demands of the AI on this station, the remaining crew members and I have agreed to attempt to destroy AIDAN and regain control of the base. I wish to go on record and say that although we are doing this knowing that in all likelihood our attempt will be futile, the men and women who have served under me have done so with the utmost honor, valor and fidelity, both to the Navy and their country, and it has been my privilege to command them.”
The machine stuttered as he wiped his nose, making it appear as if he did so over and over again. Finally the screen cleared and he continued.
“If you have gained access to this naval facility and are viewing this record, then we have likely failed in our final mission. All personnel performed their duties heroically. Any mistakes in regard to the plan and execution of our operation rest with me alone. Your primary goal at this point should be to escape this place as quickly as you can, before AIDAN sabotages your equipment to strand you here. The computer has taken the new directives, received from something called the Totality Concept, in a twisted new direction. It has tried to force an aggressive procreation program on the entire base staff, claiming that the population needs to be increased for our eventual return to the surface.
“AIDAN has attempted to force mandatory artificial insemination on all female personnel on a rotating schedule, essentially relegating them to serving primarily as baby carriers until they can no longer do so. It is assumed that this program would continue with the successive generations of base personnel, until such time as contact could be reestablished with the outside world.
“The remaining officers and I voted unanimously to resist this directive with any and all resources at our disposal. When we informed AIDAN of this decision, it began attempting to terminate the remaining officers and all male personnel, having already stored a viable quantity of sperm for future inseminations. Initial attacks were thought to be accidents, but upon further investigation, it was revealed that AIDAN was actively involved in creating situations where male personnel would be injured or killed.”
“And here we thought it was so friendly,” J.B. said, the corner of his mouth crooking up in a sardonic smile.
“It was at this time that the computer system terminated our chief physician and sealed off the sick bay. A few days later, the first of the...cyborgs appeared and began fighting us. It was at this point that we knew we had to stop AIDAN, no matter what the cost. A plan was formulated and is about to be put into action. I am going now to assist the remaining personnel in carrying it out. Again, if you are viewing this, you are in danger, and should evacuate this base immediately. Do not trust anything that AIDAN tells you. It will attempt to control you, and failing that, it will seek to kill you. Get out while you still can.”
He blinked several times as tears gathered in the corners of his eyes.
“I never got the chance to say goodbye to my wife, Maryann, and my daughter, Raina. I just want to say that I love you both, and God willing, will be with you soon. Commanding Officer Martin Yates of the Un
ited States Navy, signing off. May God have mercy on our souls.”
The picture winked out as a sharp whine could be heard from the device’s housing. Then with a pop, it ground to a halt. Doc slowly closed the screen and rubbed his eyes. “I assume you recognized that poor soul?”
Ryan thought about it, then his head snapped up. “Fireblast! He was...that first cyborg we saw, wasn’t he? The one with the clamp arm?”
Doc nodded. “I think we need to have a conversation with the others regarding the situation here as soon as possible. Agreed?”
Ryan could only nod dumbly in response.
Chapter Twelve
Mildred scrabbled for purchase against the cyborg’s slick flesh, struggling with all her might to free herself from its unyielding grip.
One of her hands clawed at the cool fingers around her throat, trying to loosen them, but she might as well have tried to loosen fingers made out of steel. Her other hand was braced against the monster’s chest in a vain attempt to prevent her head from coming closer to the creature’s mouth, which she was sure would be happy to rip out her throat if it got the chance. She tried to expel enough breath to tell AIDAN she was in serious trouble, but all that came out of her constricted windpipe was a faint whistle. She looked around for any kind of weapon within reach, but she was too far away from the tables and had no blade on her, either. The only thing she could do was kick hard at its torso and legs, which had the effect she expected—none.
Inch by inch, the cyborg drew her grimacing face closer to its own visage. When she was only a couple of inches away, it opened its mouth. It had real teeth, stained and yellow, on the left side of its face, and gleaming metal teeth on the right side. Although she desperately tried to rear away, Mildred could not escape. Closing her eyes, she gritted her teeth for the savage mauling that was about to happen.
“...me...pl...”
A puff of warm, fetid breath washed over her ear. Mildred realized she wasn’t being pulled down any more. In fact, she wasn’t moving at all. She cracked an eye open and realized that she was now looking at the door.
Why did it turn my head? Mildred wondered. Is it going to tear off my ear first? She felt the puff of breath on her skin again, and this time heard what the female cyborg was saying over and over.
“...kill me...please kill me...please...”
The message was so shocking that Mildred stopped struggling immediately. In return, she felt the pressure on her throat ease enough for her to suck in a breath. “I—I hear you,” she whispered.
The faint whisper continued, like a broken record. “...kill me...please kill me...please...”
Oh, my God, Mildred thought. They really are alive! They’ve been conscious and aware for...all this time!
The thought not only sickened her, it made her sad beyond almost anything she’d felt before. Sure, Mildred was stuck in this ruined world of savagery and terror, but now she was looking at a fate worse than that, or even death. To be trapped in this grafted, twisted shell of a body, forced to be the helpless prisoner of an insane AI for decade upon decade...never knowing a moment’s peace. The thought was horrific beyond anything she could have ever contemplated.
There were dozens of questions she would have liked to ask the cyborg, but she knew she didn’t dare try to with AIDAN monitoring the situation. “I’m—I’m sorry,” she whispered. “If you let me go, I will do whatever I can to terminate you.”
There was a pause, as if the cyborg was considering what she’d said, then the crushing grip on her throat disappeared. Mildred stayed where she was for a moment, getting her bearings back after this discovery, and almost as important, filling her lungs with air. When she felt she could, she straightened.
“Is everything all right, Dr. Wyeth?” AIDAN asked.
“Um, yes. I just lost my balance for a moment,” she replied. “I’m going to finish moving these units into the next room, and then you can begin washing this one down.”
“Excellent. It is very gratifying to me to see these rooms will soon be used for their intended purpose again,” AIDAN said.
Yeah, because you’ve got no more people to turn into half-alive corpses anymore, do you? Mildred thought. “I’m sure it is.” Gritting her teeth again, she finished her gruesome task as quickly as possible, noting that the others were mouthing the same plea as the female.
When she had deposited all of them in the other room, she surveyed the neatly laid-out row of preserved men and women and said, “I’m going to do everything I can for all of you.” She was pleased to see one of the cyborgs, the one with the clamp arm, nod at her words.
Mildred walked back into the outer room and headed for the door. “Since you’re washing this room, I’m going to go see what the boys are up to.”
“That is acceptable,” AIDAN replied. “Ryan, John Dix and Dr. Tanner are leaving the command center and appear to be heading back to your quarters. I will notify you when the room will be ready for you to resume your duties.” The door obligingly slid open for her.
“Thank you, AIDAN,” she replied as she left. In the corridor, she took several breaths of the stale, warm air, thinking they were the best she’d ever had. After a moment, she headed for their quarters.
* * *
KRYSTY WRITHED AND struggled, trying to break even one of the leathery fronds binding her, but they were too tough. Meanwhile, the tendrils continued hauling her toward the top of the tank.
When she reached the opening, with the large pod heads snapping and straining to reach her, she was able to brace the heels of her cowboy boots on the edge, lock her knees and lean backward, thwarting the plant just enough to allow her to close her eyes and concentrate on entering a power trance. Although Krysty had done this dozens of times, and often in considerable danger, she had never attempted it while only seconds away from being devoured. She knew that if she did not achieve it she was going to be dead in the next minute.
Perhaps that sense of imminent death was why she was able to focus her psyche and draw upon the power of Gaia, the Earth Mother, faster than she ever had before. Within moments, a sense of peace and calm flooded through her. It felt as if she were in two different places—part of her disconnected, floating outside her body, watching as the carnivorous plant attempted to pull her over into the tank. The other part was still within her, completely aware of that mysterious core deep within her, gathering that power that Mother Sonja had taught her to draw upon and condensing it into a white-hot ball of surging, pulsating energy. Once it was ready, all she had to do was let it go.
Just in time, too, since the plant had overcome the resistance of her boots and was pulling her in. Just as she was about to be drawn down into the cluster of hungry, fanged plant pods, Krysty opened her eyes.
Biting through the fibrous tendril covering her mouth, she levered her bound arms away from the sides of her body, tearing apart the straining leafy tentacles that were trying to pinion her. The pods underneath her gnashed their fanged maws in pain.
Knowing she had only a few minutes before the surge of strength ended, Krysty freed her arms in time to brace herself across the four-foot tank, preventing her from being pulled in. Spreading her legs, she tore apart more fronds then brought her feet back together and smashed them down into the middle of the pod cluster.
As she’d thought, while the pods were vicious against helpless prey, they were less effective against anything that could fight back. Her boots crushed three of the largest pods under their heels, the impact making the others quiver and thrash. More tendrils snaked in to try to immobilize her, but Krysty moved in a blur, stomping and smashing the rest of the pods while she tore apart every frond that tried to attack her as if they were made of paper, shredding them and hurling the leaking ends away.
By the time she felt her incredible strength begin to fade, she stood in the middle of complete carnage. The mutant plant was dead, there was no doubt about that. Oozing, crushed pods spasmed weakly all around her, while truncated fronds li
ttered the tank and the floor. Her hands and boots were covered in slimy, green gore.
The last of her strength faded, and Krysty leaned weakly against the side of the tank. That was when she heard it.
A second rustle.
She managed to climb out of the tank, almost falling in her weakened condition. But she knew if she fell, she would never get up again. The jolt of adrenaline from that thought was enough for her to muster the strength to climb down to the floor and totter to the door as fast as she could manage, her muscles sore and her head fuzzy.
Fumbling with the card, she got it out and shoved it into the slot next to the door. The rustling grew louder behind her, but the door didn’t open. Biting back a curse, she took the card as it was spit out from the slot and realized she’d put it in upside down.
Flipping it over, she shoved it through again, and nearly sobbed with relief as the door slid open. Snatching the card again, she ran through as a tendril shot across the floor in an attempt to snare her ankle.
“Close it! Close the door, AIDAN!” Krysty said, hitting the far wall across from the doorway and rolling along it, away from the Aquaculture Bay. The door slid closed, and Krysty looked back to see a severed section of plant writhing on the hallway floor.
“Did you find out what the problem was with the communication console, Krysty?” the computer asked.
“Um, yes...too many plants inside.” Edging past the still-moving frond, she began heading back to her quarters, walking faster and faster until she broke into an exhausted, stumbling run.
* * *
“I SWEAR, THIS place is a madhouse!” Mildred said. Her head rested on J.B.’s shoulder, her eyes still red from crying. When she had seen the men, she hadn’t said a word, but had simply thrown herself into his arms and sobbed.