The Vampires of Antyllus

by Michael E. Gonzales

  "Yes, ma'am, but this power redirect is fairly straightforward stuff. We should have power back well ahead of schedule."

  The trip back through the dark section was conducted in silence, but Kathy and Dave were wide-eyed as they moved through. They wanted to see as much as possible. And of course, what they saw was recorded in their memories.

  Back in Sphere One, they moved directly into the PMCR, Passenger Monitoring and Control Room. Here, as the name implied, all the passengers in Sphere One, both Bios and SUBs were closely monitored. All systems that maintain the passengers in their states of hibernation are closely monitored by Narcissia.

  Dave replaced the malfunctioning unit with the one from the bridge.

  All of the awakened SUBs were gathered around a computer station, observing several readouts on the status of the power flow from the power plant forward. As Dave and Kathy approached, there was a general cheer and foot bumps all around.

  "What's happened?" Kathy asked. A buck sergeant turned around and saluted. "Ma'am, with the AE-35 plugged in, power is flowing again to the primary and secondary pulse stimulators and to the plasma galvanizer. We have main power to the cells again and to the motors that power the FGS. Ma'am, we're basically back up. Colour Sergeant Fitzgerald is finishing rewiring the Michio Kaku transformers, and then we're through."

  "Thank you, Sergeant."

  As they turned away, Dave whispered to Kathy, "Seems you didn't need me after all."

  "Sergeant Mitchel, I don't know what I would have done without you."

  Dave smiled at her. "You'd have done just exactly what you did do, just without me tagging along."

  "Sergeant, I—" She never finished that statement.

  Narcissia's voice was heard by all the awakened SUBs and she sounded alarmed. "Attention in Sphere One, brace for impact! Brace for impact!"

  ○O○

  Dave recalled the explosive sound as if it had detonated near his ear. He remembered being thrown backward by the blast wave and striking his head hard on something, the bulkhead perhaps. The sensation was like being knocked out, but without the pain. His brain had been knocked offline, not an easy thing to do; he was aware, so he must have hit the metal wall very hard.

  When he awoke, a lapsed time of about two minutes had passed. He opened his eyes to a scene of pandemonium. SUBs were floating about everywhere; their movements were not pointless. They had each pushed off something and were moving intentionally toward various targets. As Dave's eyes focused, he noted numerous globules of some dark liquid floating all around him. He glanced to his left and was startled to see floating, not far from him, a part of a head with short cropped blond hair.

  "Kathy!" He shouted as his senses slowly came back on line. He started looking about, and behind him was a cell with the remains of a SUB who had been blown to pieces from the clavicles up. Dave now felt guilty for feeling relieved that the dead person was not Kathy. He then noticed that he was some fifty meters away from where he had been floating at the time of the explosion.

  Dave heard his name being shouted. It was coming from a direction he was not able to deduce, and a distance that must have been quite great. There was a great ringing or rushing sound in his ears as his hearing returned. The voice calling his name was Kathy's and she was about ten meters distant, floating directly toward him at a considerable velocity.

  As she arrived by him, they reached out for one another. As neither was anchored to any part of the ship, the two of them began to float in Kathy's original direction of travel, but they were spinning and holding on to each other's forearms. Their eyes locked moments before they impacted the line of cells on the opposite wall.

  "Sergeant," Kathy stated in a matter of fact manner, regaining her composure, "you're wounded."

  "What?” Dave asked slowly.

  "Your head, you have a seven-centimeter-long gash in your scalp, your titanium skull is exposed."

  "It doesn't hurt," Dave's words were slow and unconcerned.

  Kathy squinted at him a moment. "Of course not. Dave, are you all right?"

  "Yes, ma'am. I am fine. Thank you."

  "You better just stay here and rest for a moment. Do you understand, Dave? Stay here and do not move."

  "I thought you were killed."

  "What?" The look on Kathy's face betrayed her concern.

  "I thought you were killed." Dave repeated. "All the blood and the blond hair. It scared me very badly."

  "Blood?" Kathy squinted at him, "Well, I'm good, Dave. I want you to stay right here, that's an order. Okay?"

  "Yes, lamb, ah, ma'am—okay."

  Dave listened as Kathy called out over Ismay to Narcissia. "Do we have a SUB medic on board?"

  "Yes, Major."

  "Is that person a SUB or a bio?"

  "She is a SUB, Major."

  "Activate that individual with instructions to see Master Sergeant Mitchel immediately."

  "Yes, Major."

  She leaned into Dave and said, "Help is on the way Sergeant."

  He looked up, his eyes at half-staff, and his head wobbling and he replied, "Yes, mommy."

  ○O○

  Moments after the impact, as Kathy extracted herself from a pile of other SUBs, she called over Ismay for a status report. Narcissia's response was immediate. "Major, we have been struck in Sphere One by a piece of space debris five cementers in diameter. The object entered at section thirty-five Charlie, and exited at sixteen Bravo. The two puncture holes appear to be clean and the pressure leaks have been temporarily stopped by the application of expanding foam sealant at each site. Complete repair will require we work outside the ship, so we’ll need to prepare for an EVA."

  "What about casualties?" Kathy asked.

  "There have been three casualties. Two lives have been terminated."

  "Who was killed?" Kathy asked.

  "Dr. Mary Lou Dunn, a SUB, and Mr. Steven Giordano, a bio."

  "What were their specialties?"

  "She was a Phlebotomist. He was a member of the board of the IIEA sent to investigate the status of operations in the colony. Then they were to have returned to Earth with the Demeter."

  "And the third causality?" Kathy asked.

  "Master Sergeant Dave Mitchel has been injured, the extent of his injuries is not known."

  "What?" Kathy almost screamed, "Where is he?"

  "The Master Sergeant is to your right front, forty degrees up, at a distance of nine meters."

  Kathy looked up to see Dave floating there, seemingly unconscious. Without a second thought, she pushed off toward him, shouting his name.

  It was only after the SUB medic had him stabilized, that Kathy returned to the PMCR.

  "Major," Narcissia called to her, "we must address the matter of a more permanent fix to the two holes in the pressure hull."

  "Yeah…but…what's the status of Master Sergeant Mitchel?"

  "The SUB specialist is with him, she has not yet reported."

  Kathy then addressed the British NCO. "Colour Sergeant Fitzgerald, have some personnel properly encapsulate the remains of Dr. Dunn and Mr. Giordano for the return home. Narcissia, send a message back to the IIEA informing them of our casualties and our status."

  "The message has already been dispatched, Major. It will take a year and seven months to reach Earth."

  Kathy floated over to Colour Sergeant Fitzgerald and SFC Ling.

  "Has Narcissia filled you in on the status of the hull?"

  "Yes, ma'am. And we've been shown where the repair kits are stored and how to repair the breaches," Ling replied.

  "Outstanding, let's do this simultaneously, Fitzgerald you take a detail and go to section thirty-five Charlie. Ling you go to sixteen Bravo, and keep me posted."

  As the two NCOs departed, Kathy went to check on Dave. She floated up to the young female SUB technician who had Dave hooked up to a couple of portable diagnostic computers floating near his head.

  "How is he?" Kathy asked. As the technician turned, Kathy could see b
y her visual identifier that she was one of the few SUBs who was not a member of the military.

  "His biotronic brain has suffered a slight concussion. My instruments here can't tell me how bad it is. My guess is that the condition will pass as with a mild concussion to a bio's brain. Regardless, once we reach Antyllus, I suggest a full diagnostic.”

  "Is it safe to put him back into suspended animation?"

  The young technician looked again at her monitors. "Yes, I should think so. Narcissia will be monitoring him and I'll instruct her to alert me if there is any change in his telemetry."

  "Thank you, Doctor."

  "Just so you know, Major, I'm not an MD. I'm a bio/cyber systems specialist, though I do hold a PhD in that field."

  "Thanks again," Kathy shook her hand.

  "Dave, do you know who I am?"

  "Oh, you bet I do, pretty lady," he replied, though his eyes seemed to look through her. He acted as if inebriated.

  "Okay mister; let's get you back to your cell."

  "Are you gonna put me to bed?"

  "Yes, I am, Sergeant."

  Then, as if a switch were thrown, his speech became clear. "Major, we still have those punctures to repair. I need to suit up. I've done this work to JILL. I know what to do."

  "Sergeant Mitchel, you've suffered a concussion. You're going back into stasis until we get to Antyllus."

  Then the switch was thrown back the other way. "Will you come to bed with me?" he slurred.

  "Just get in there," she gently guided Dave into the cell, the barriers closed, and the cones redeployed. "Sweet dreams, Sergeant."

  "Of you, Kathy," he responded and his eyes closed.

  Kathy floated there a moment just looking at him and shaking her head slightly.

  Chapter 5

  Doctor Bristol

  Dave was awakened by the sound of a female voice in his ears, "Master Sergeant Dave Mitchel. We have arrived. Please rise."

  Dave's head felt as if it were full of cotton. He looked about himself, confused and worried he might still be suffering the effects of the concussion.

  "Master Sergeant Mitchel, the average time necessary to recover from SA is three point two five minutes." Narcissia went on. "Once you are ready, please move toward exit seven and head directly for the shuttle accessway."

  Then a second voice came to him over Ismay. "Sergeant Mitchel, this is Dr. Candice Richards. I'm the bio/cyber systems specialist who attended to you after your injury. How do you feel?"

  "I'm okay. I feel like I have a hangover."

  "I have a few quick questions. What is your name, please?"

  "I am Mitchel, David L., Master Sergeant, E-8."

  "What is the square root of 958?"

  "What?" But before the question could be repeated the answer came to him. "The square root of 958 is 30.9515750811."

  "Excellent. Do you recall being injured?"

  "I remember an explosion then kathor—"

  "Kathor?" the doctor asked.

  "I mean, Kathy Major, ah…Major Kathy. No wait, Major Selina. Geezz. It's the SA Doctor, I'm still a little tipsy."

  "It's all right, Sergeant, we have an examination scheduled for you, regardless. The time and location will be provided you once we're on the ground and logged in to the AVAC down there."

  "All right, Dr. Richards, thank you."

  Dave pushed off the cell and started making his way toward exit seven. Up ahead, he saw Kathy floating, her arms folded and her ankles crossed. Her short-cropped hair spread out in all directions in the zero G. The sight made him smile.

  "Well, if it isn't Casanova?" she teased.

  "Ma'am?"

  "You're going to tell me you don't recall saying goodnight to me?"

  Dave quickly searched his memory but it just wasn't there.

  "Yes, ma'am, that's exactly what I'm going to tell you, I don't recall a thing. Ma'am, if I was out of line I app—"

  "Don't worry about it, Private."

  "Private?" Dave's genuine shock was obvious.

  Kathy leaned in toward him and whispered, "It was a joke, Dave."

  "I—ah, guess my sense of humor has yet to come on line."

  Kathy cracked a wide grin. "Hey…that was very funny! Seriously though, how are you feeling? You were pretty messed up two years ago."

  "I think I'm all right, ma'am, though the doctor is going to have me tested anyway."

  "Yes, and you will be cooperative—that's an order.”

  ○O○

  Kathy, Dave, Cassie, and Mitch were seated in the shuttle, secured in their seats, waiting for undocking and the ride down to the surface of the alien planet.

  "Hey," Cassie asked, "where's Chuck?"

  "Narcissia informed me that recovering Bios from cryostasis is a lengthy procedure," Mitch stated. "She told me we'd see him tomorrow."

  The lights on the overhead panel indicated imminent separation; an alarm sounded, the shuttle detached from the Demeter, and began its slow roll into entry position. As it did, everyone got a view of the new world on their monitors. It looked like home, like Earth. Of course, the continents were vastly different. There appeared to be more land mass than Earth, at least from here. The clouds bespoke of the liquid water essential to life. The surface of the planet itself was not green. It was a swirl of blues, purples, and even black. The seas were shades of the same colors. This was, indeed, an alien world. A world they already knew to be a hostile one, from its poisonous atmosphere to its deadly flora and fauna.

  The shuttle made its descent into the atmosphere. The descent seemed no different from returning to Earth.

  As the shuttle neared the planet, the contrasts to Earth became very apparent. Breaking through the clouds, they all could see that they were hurtling toward a range of jagged mountains, geologically new. Their sides were covered in black, blue, and then cyan-colored vegetation. In the higher elevations, rocks in all manner of bright colors were visible. In and among the stone that looked the same as Earth rock, there were layers of yellow, red, and green. The tops of the mountains were capped in snow.

  Off in the distance, huge storm clouds were discharging massive lightning bolts and rain was falling in Biblical proportions. Like on Earth, the clouds were gray, but the higher, thin clouds were shades of pink and orange due to their catching the red star's light through the filter of the atmosphere. Had there been no clouds present, the sky would appear blue, a very dark blue, and the brighter stars were visible in the day as well as at night.

  Beyond the mountains were rolling hills, covered in the same blue and black growth. Between the hills, rivers, streams, and lakes seemed to occupy every low lying area.

  "Imagine," Kathy spoke to no one in particular, "an entire new world— untamed and unspoiled."

  Ahead, on what appeared to be a low, deforested, plateau, sat the colony, which Kathy had to admit to herself looked like a scab in the lush forest. The facility bore a striking resemblance to the BSC back at JILL; it was more or less disk-shaped, and seemed flat from up here.

  They could see the runway south of the city, nearly two kilometers long, built to accommodate the shuttles. A little closer and Dave could see the motor pool, and on the side of the landing strip, several V-T-O-L, vertical takeoff and landing, aircraft.

  The entire complex was surrounded by a massive concrete wall eighty-five kilometers long on each side, eleven meters tall and topped with nine meters of razor wire. There were four automated guard towers on each side of the wall, and each tower bristled with weapons. This place looked less like a colony than it did a prison.

  The four companions exchanged glances.

  "Don't jump to conclusions," Mitch stated, "there's a lot we don't know."

  The shuttle slowed and made a wide turn around the colony then lined up for landing.

  Once safely down, they taxied over to the harbor facility and waited until the protective passenger umbilical was connected to the shuttle.

  Kathy looked outside through her monitor and saw
dozens of the little maintenance robots already at work prepping the shuttle for its return trip. She adjusted the view to look out toward the hills to the south, just visible over the wall. The dark blue mid-day sky with its stars, the odd vegetation with its dark colors; purple, blue, burnt orange, presented a really quite beautiful, if alien, landscape. And to think, if I'd gotten on that plane back in Oklahoma I'd be dead by now. Instead—

  The row of passengers in front of them stood to deplane. Kathy nudged Dave with her elbow. "Come on, Sarge." He was staring at his monitor, too. "It's our turn to get off this thing," Kathy pointed out the obvious.

  As they shuffled out, Kathy asked Dave, "So, are you feeling any better?"

  "Ma'am, I felt okay before we departed the Demeter."

  "I want to be kept apprised of your progress."

  "Ma'am, I don't have any place to progress to. I'm fine."

  "Sure, you are. But you're going follow the doctor's orders, right?"

  As they entered the Colony proper, they were struck with the similarity in appearance to the BSC back on Earth's Moon. There were differences, of course. For one thing, it was significantly larger.

  From where the group stood, they could see down one of the wide expansive corridors. They watched as magnetic hover trams, identical to those in the BSC at JILL, sped down their respective sides of the corridor taking passengers to the far-flung areas within the facility.

  A large sign read, "Welcome to New Roanoke."

  "Are they kidding?" Cassie asked aloud.

  "What?" Mitch and Dave asked.

  "Roanoke," Kathy responded, "the lost colony of Virginia?" She added, indicating the sign, "That's kind of a sick joke."

  "Ladies and gentlemen," a voice announced over a PA, "to your right are several entrances to our reception center. We ask that you please come in and take a seat."

  The reception center was a very large, domed theater with a proscenium front and center. On the walls around the immense room, enlarged photographs of scenes from in and around New Roanoke were being projected. The dark skies and the cyan colored vegetation were prominent themes of the pictures.

  "Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen." A tall man with a full head of dark hair, cropped short at the sides, stood before the throng of new arrivals, all of whom were SUBs. He appeared to be about forty years old and spoke with a transatlantic accent. He was dressed in all black, tight-fitting, civilian attire. High on his right breast, he wore his circular identification badge. This allowed any bio who saw him to know his place of assignment. Everyone here wore them, except the military, obviously. This badge was not necessary for the SUBs to identify their host, as above his head his identifier was visible, "IIEA–CYB–238–Wilmington, Richard D.—Administration."