by Dan Henk
The air pours past me in torrential waves, escaping in panic through the hole. The atmosphere of the planet appears to be far thinner than the compound. I saw vegetation so there must be some ambient gases, but evidently less than what these creatures need.
The hole isn’t nearly large enough, only about two feet in circumference and garnished with jagged edges. I grab two opposite each other and pull frantically. This material has to be incredibly tough if it’s giving me this much trouble! Then again, they might be defending themselves against the technology that created my body.
It gives slowly, the sides tearing away in a dim crackle. With the escaped atmosphere, the sound waves must be operating in a much weaker medium as well. Come to think of it, the air has stopped rushing past me. There must be an emergency seal that’s preventing the base from depressurizing.
The opening has expanded to waist level; it should be big enough. I raise my right leg and extend it through the hole. Ducking my head and tucking in my arms, I wriggle out. As my weight shifts over the edge, I fall forward, the low gravity gliding me down into the sand. My impact sends up twirling plumes in a grandiose arc. Struggling to my feet, I survey the landscape.
A long field of rocky soil stretches out before me, rising and falling as it flows over small dunes. Black glassy stones speckle the landscape in clumps. The wiry, tree-like vegetation marks the terrain in scattered groves, the gray branches twisting fiercely as they spread out into clusters of bright orange leaves. Actually, I’m not even sure they are leaves; they’re too rounded and smooth.
Not far beyond sprawls a craggy mountain range, its jagged charcoal peaks rising like some rabid behemoth out of the pale sand. I bear toward the hilltops and break into a run.
I’m not used to the gravity, the weak pull contorting my strides into a series of giant leaps. I’m in mid step when a bright light engulfs me. I feel an immense pressure on my back, like a giant slap. My vision goes black. I try to move my arms, but they refuse to comply. A moment of panicked darkness ensues, and suddenly I can see again! In a kaleidoscope of spinning vision I realize I’m sailing backwards. Whipping violently into something solid, I slide limply onto the sand below. I gather in my feet and look up. Just above, there is a perfect imprint of my body in the rock face. Surrounding me on all sides are tall, rocky crags. I look over my shoulder at the compound. The breach I made is now a perfectly round, luminous hole, occupied by several humanoid silhouettes. They must have hit me with some powerful weapon, and all it did was propel me forward two-hundred feet! Maybe they don’t realize quite what it takes to destroy me. Or maybe it only takes a few more shots like that last one. I think I actually blacked out for a second. I wonder what a series of such blasts might do.
I turn left and start to run along the base of the mountain. Blinding light engulfs me, and I’m somewhere else again.
A dark, swirling maelstrom encircles me, and I’m falling. Cracks of lightning belt out, the glowing streams broken into pulses of brilliance as clouds roll by. Murky shapes emerge out of the morass, clawing at the corners of my vision. I try to crane my neck, but resolution stays just out of reach. A leering face, a grasping hand, an incredible weight of agony and despair. Entrapment and misery... Some ancient evil reigns here. My limbs move in a slow delay, like a machine that I control, yet not a part of me. I feel detached... impressions run through my head... It’s all written... all planned out... I’m a pawn in an age-old game... The currents quicken, the storm increases, and reality blurs... I start to lose my grip on consciousness. The currents buffeting me feel relaxing... beckoning... Waves of blindness flood over me...
I awake to find myself kneeling at the bottom of a shallow crater. The slope is textured, the sand partially crystallized into glass. I try to scamper up the incline, and sheets of hardened sand break off and slide down, carrying me with them. I glance over my shoulder and see a couple of slim, disc-like crafts closing in. I’ve seen enough war movies to recognize a strafing run when I see one. Quick bursts flare up in a blinding light around me. With each lull I notice the crater getting deeper. The sides are now too steep to scale, the slippery sand trapping me inside. I start reeling about, scanning frantically for a way out. White light engulfs me again, and I feel the ground beneath my feet give way. The radiance fades in the blink of an eye to reveal a slick stone far beneath my feet. I start to kick violently as I plummet into the depths. I pirouette around in a gravity-deprived slow dance? My shoulder slams into something, the blow strangely jolting in the thin gravity, and I crumple backwards into a ball. Extending my hands, I run my fingertips over what feels like stone. I must be in some underground cave. A small amount of ambient light sparkles off ragged walls of rock. I look straight up. A black tunnel extends above me, opening in a rough circle at the top to reveal a few stars. I peer right and left. My meager zone of light dissolves on the sides into black holes. I break into a slow jog, heading off to the right. Something slams into me, and I’m thrown forward. My body bounces off an invisible barrier and back into the air, skipping across the floor like a rock on water.
I drop my feet and grind to a stop. The rupture I fell through has been widened dramatically, a glittering panorama of stars now conspicuous in the gaping hole. The undulating volcanic rock is now more visible, the ebony floor marred by a still smoking crater. Just as I break into a sprint an intense pressure shoves into me, throwing me sideways. I stumble, but manage to stay on my feet. They must be firing randomly into the hole, and I’m getting buffeted by nearby explosions. I hurdle a newly minted crater and keep running.
The cave narrows, forcing me down into a crawl. The tunnel continues to close in with each step I take, until it’s scraping my arms. My claustrophobia is starting to kick in. I feel even more trapped, under this mountain of rock, than I did in the Mayan pyramid. I can see nothing but black in front of me. I try to turn my head, and it crashes into stone. The ceiling won’t give, and I wrench my head back. Fighting a wave of panic, I keep wriggling forward.
The sides don’t feel like they are growing any closer, but the tunnel is so constricting I can’t even fully raise my arm. I bash my head into something and stop. Thrashing my arm around in front of me, my hand dives into a wedge of rock. The tunnel has closed up even more, squeezing the crawlspace into a sideways fissure. I really don’t want to go back. Those things seem to have the ability to kill me, and a backwards crawl through all this would be a nightmare. I twist sideways, scraping across the jagged edges and pulling myself forward an inch. I readjust and pull myself forward another inch. This is insane! I might as well just go back and face the consequences! But I’m too stubborn. Fighting a crushing phobia, I keep inching forward.
A squirming, jerking, pushing horror show later, and I’ve managed to get through the slender rift and into a slightly larger crawlspace. I still can’t rise above my knees. I’m going to be truly fucked if this just dead ends somewhere.
Hours later, my probing fingers fail to find solid ground in front of me. I’m totally blind, reacting off tactile sensation, but a sweep of my hand reveals the tunnel ground falling away in a sheer drop. I can touch the sidewalls and ceiling, but the way beneath me ends in a sharp line a few feet in front. I have no idea what to do. If it’s a deep hole and I fall into it with no way out, I could be stuck for an eternity! I scuttle up to the edge, brace one arm against a sidewall, and attempt to feel for an opposing side. Nothing. I can’t go back! The claustrophobia is already too much! I try to calm myself, bring my mental distress down to a reasonable level. I have to keep moving!
Squirming forward, I take the plunge. Falling straight down, floundering like a fish out of water, I crash into the ground, a brittle rock crunching under my impact. Crawling to my feet, I look around in total blackness. I have a weird sensation of displacement, like I’m in an isolation chamber. I walk to my left and crash face first into something. Falling back, I scramble up and try walking the other way, this time with my hands stretched out in front. Within a few feet
my fingertips bump into another obstruction. I turn slightly and try again. Another few feet, and I bump against another coarse wall of what I assume is stone. Resting my hand against it, I follow the surface with my fingers. Keeping my hand level, I slowly circle the chamber. Nothing. It seems I’m in a featureless ditch buried beneath a mountain of rock. Stepping back, I crouch into a squat and pounce at the wall. I feel a slight give and hear a faint trickle of pulverized stone. I kick it swiftly, and rock chips away in a grating metal-on-stone crunch. A few more blows, and the depression has deepened into a crevice large enough for my foot. Slowly moving upwards, I chisel apertures in a repeating pattern as far up as I can reach. That should suffice. Using the notches, I start to scale the rock wall, digging out new ones as I ascend.
After I climb upwards for about ten minutes, a shaft of light cuts across the darkness below me. It looks like the focused beam of an artificial light source. It’s emanating from my lower right and reflecting off the smooth tunnel wall. Then I notice the spotlight is singling out my crude footholds.
A few minutes pass in silence, and then the dark blur of a helmet erupts from the side. Releasing my grip, I plunge down. With a jarring impact, the body attached to the head flies out of its portal, following me in an impromptu nosedive. Our bodies plummet several feet in a clumsy tangle, bouncing roughly against the walls as we fall.
Crashing into the floor, I roll to the side and spring upright. The gunmetal gray suit of one of those creatures lies sideways on the ground, the contours barely visible in the shadow. Deathly still, the body rests in an awkward fetal position. A small crystalline globe emitting a bluish light lies nearby. I scoop it up and rotate it above my head slowly, examining the pit I’m in. Glassy rock, pocked by small pits, the hollow I’m in carved out by long gone water. Just above me, I spy another opening in the wall of rock. It’s not far below the hole I first came through. No clue where it leads, but it’s a smarter bet than staying here. As I’m carving a new foothold, I realize this is going to be much harder than I thought! I’ll have to try balancing the light and climbing up at the same time. I set it down and hack away at the wall with my cupped hand. The new footholds are going to be significantly sloppier, but if that thing has company, I have no time to spare.
Scaling up the wall in a flurry of vigorous fits of hammering fingertips, I mold a rough ladder. Dropping back down, I scoop up the ball and climb. Shoving the light into the lower tunnel, I crawl in. As I pull my feet inside, I rise to a crouch, the low ceiling preventing anything more.
Long and relatively smooth, the passageway appears to be a subterranean canal chiseled by eons of water pressure. Holding the light aloft, I inch forward. After a few feet, the tunnel splits, and on a whim I take the left passage.
An hour later, the crawlspace starts to widen and I angle more upright, shuffling forward in a quicker stride. The light of the orb reflects off something strange and artificial looking. A glimmer of something large and curved chokes off the path, its glossy black surface mottled by a bizarre, swirling texture.
The end of the tunnel draws closer, the increasing light giving the chamber a weirdly artificial appearance. Crude stone walls have mutated into a roughhewn tunnel that looks unnaturally straight and rigid. Then the passageway abruptly ends.
I’m facing a featureless barricade. Slightly convex, with a thin bulbous ring of some charcoal gray substance encircling the outer edges, it’s definitely not a natural formation. The whole thing is a solid, semi-gloss black, the surface polished into a silky smooth texture. I run my hand over it lightly. Nothing. I push on it. Still nothing. I push a bit harder. Zilch. I scuttle back a little and tap it with my fist. Still no response. I turn to the tunnel wall and begin bludgeoning it from my hunched over position. Chunks start flying in a rain of jagged black fragments.
It takes a good hour of smashing and chiseling, but I manage to deepen the hole several feet, my body slowly entering the growing cavity as I hack my way forward. I’m attempting to round that barricade and angle my digging in a looping semi-circle.
The air has grown smoggy with dust. The glowing orb casts an eerie under-lighting, reflecting off the dust particles suspended in the air, the haze pirouetting into slowly moving shapes in the low gravity.
A chunk of the rock gives way before my hands, revealing a smooth surface beyond. Pulling the orb up, I try to examine it through the cloudy haze. It looks like it’s made out of something similar to the barricade. It’s obviously not a part of the rock covering it. In fact, there is a tiny crease of separation between the two. It looks like a wall of some sort. Clawing at the rock, I manage to use the slight gap as leverage and rip out chunks. The same smooth wall lies beneath. Backing up a little, I start pounding on the structure, my cramped position compromising my force.
The surface holds fast for a moment, then it gives way in a sudden outward burst. Flying forward, the momentum throws me into a newly created fissure. The narrow confines trap my shoulder, and I have to drop the light and brace with my free hand to pull it out, a feat I accomplish with an overzealous rush of strength that propels me back. My head bounces off the low ceiling, and I stumble forward, slowing my fall just before I step on my light.
Picking up the glowing ball, I hold it up to the hole. It looks like a slim, dark corridor lies just beyond. What looks like grating spans the length of floor.
Gripping the edges of the gash, I pull it out in chunks. When it looks wide enough, I hold aloft the light and wriggle through.
It’s an awkward struggle, and I end up tumbling out shoulder first, the glowing orb escaping my grip as I hit. The floor clanks softly as I fall into it, the grating vibrating faintly and bouncing the light farther down the dark corridor. The weak gravity slows down everything, distorting every move into a slow dance.
I stand up in a passageway that is obviously artificial. Carved precisely out of volcanic rock, the furrowed floor flows without a break up into smooth walls, arching slightly as the sides curve into a concave ceiling. The tunnel doesn’t extend very far in front and back of me, both sides disappearing as they round corners. The right side stretches a bit farther. I’ll try that.
I round the corner, and the hall extends a ways farther, ending in another blockade of smooth ebony.
I put down the sphere, lean against the barrier, and push. Nothing. I turn my shoulder and attempt to push it right. Still nothing. I rotate and try left. Nothing. I crouch, press my fingers against the lower curve, and pull up. There is a slight creaking, and the slab moves a little. I strain harder, and the door slides up more. I stop for a minute, brace with my left arm, and try to reach backwards with my right to scoop up the glowing orb. It’s a little too far. I let go of the door and make a quick grab for the light.
Scooping it up, I spin around quickly toward a now falling door. I barely make it and the bottom lip crashes into my shoulder, shoving me down onto my knees. Swinging the rest of my body under, I let the door drop. It slams closed, the sound muted by the thin atmosphere. Rising to my feet, I hold up the light. The space I’ve entered is immense! Scattered all around are small pedestals, the coarse material resembling unpolished metal tree trunks. Seams mar the chamber at six-foot intervals, a thin weld extending from floor to ceiling.
In the distant shadows, I see the edges of what looks like a much larger object. Raising my light I stroll toward it. Holy shit! A spaceship! It’s roughly the size of an Air Force jet, compressed and flat on the edges like a B2 bomber. A gray, textured surface that resembles lead encases the craft. I circle around, tracing the body with the light. The ship has a large, central mass. The front is upraised, the back sinking into the body in a smooth downward slope like a half-buried pipe. The forward tip is rounded into a sphere, the gray material breaking open into a latticed cluster of windows that resembles a giant insect eye.
The long sides extend out of the central mass and slope down toward the floor, the ends sporting cylindrical projections that are probably some sort of weapon. The
whole surface is segmented, consisting of beveled, parallel slates. The elevated center brandishes long spikes, emanating from some sheltered cavity on the right side and running parallel to the center tube. The middle is suspended a full four feet in the air by the down-swept wings. I duck under the wing. The convex underbelly sports a rear central hole—probably an entrance hatch—the black maw suspended a few feet above the ground.
Strolling over, I peer inside. I can see a curved, smooth ceiling, but not much else. I crouch down and leap up, angling my jump in an effort to make it inside. I’m gaining more control over my body, as my head bumps only lightly against the ceiling, inevitably followed by a short fall. I land on my feet in a slight squat. That was a perfect, straight-out-of-the-cinema move!
Raising the light, the glow flows over the satiny gray walls, revealing a smooth bump resembling a seam every two feet, the thin lines stretching up and across the oval ceiling and cascading down in a curved line toward the bumpy floor on the opposite side.
The ground is black and slightly viscous, configured in a repeating pattern that resembles diamond plate, but with smoother edges. The walkway is fairly wide as it flows around the sides of the entrance. Doors forward and aft close off the short hall. The one on the opposite side of the hole appears to be closed, the smooth gate completely featureless as it merges at the corners into an arched frame. The one on my side is open, leading into what looks like a cockpit. I wander in. Three squat chairs, sculpted out of something akin to stone, top curved foundations that splinter into various thin poles. The seats have the appearance of being melted into the floor. Small hard bubbles of varying sizes cluster around the base. All three chairs are buttressed by wide lips on the right, the black surfaces ridden with an assortment of small indentations.
I experience a sense of déjà vu. The workmanship and pattern of design is remarkably similar to the crashed ship we found back on Earth. I feel awkward and out of place, like a high schooler pretending to be a grown up. I look around tensely, half-expecting some rebuke. Nothing. Just silence, and the vague sense of weightlessness and baffled sound I’ve had ever since I landed on this planet. Everything seems amplified now, the exotic surroundings and recent confrontations adding to a climate of tension. But there is no one present. No revealing movement.