“He’s Chinese, not Japanese.”
“You know what I mean.” VanHoff went back to his notes as the doctor started his tests on the taikonaut.
Playing nursemaid to the very people that tried to prevent him from taking over what was rightfully his was not what he wanted his team to be doing. But Dr. Molotov was not the type of individual he could just order around. He was one of the best geneticist money could buy. Sure, there were better ones. But VanHoff needed someone who was prepared to travel to Mars. Such a commute to work narrowed down the pool of available candidates considerably. But Dr. Molotov was not simply taking the job just for the money. He was also trying to make his name and saw this mission as a way of doing just that. Nevertheless, he would not be pushed into doing something he didn’t want to. So VanHoff gritted his teeth and let the doctor indulge his Hippocratic conscience. For VanHoff the end always justified the means. And if Dr. Molotov’s desire to provide humanitarian aid to the vanquished kept him content then so be it. He let him get on with it.
But there were more pressing matters. The ultimate objective of the mission was to piece together, from the scattered fragments of the genetically engineered biology of the colonists, the secret that enabled them to regenerate and repair their physiology. This was the end goal. Since the original source bacteria was now all but destroyed, as far as VanHoff was aware, then the only way left was for him and his team to forensically piece it together from whatever clues they could uncover. This needed to be planned and Dr. Molotov was getting himself sidetracked. Not a good start.
Yet VanHoff was glad of this distraction in a way, as his rumbling headache was not conducive to doing the complex cognitive gymnastics required for genetic reverse engineering. He rubbed his temples, popped another painkiller and sighed. There wasn’t much he could do here at present so he decided to find commander Kruger and get an update on the search for the elusive Dr. Jann Malbec. Although the mere thought of her made his head throb even more. He headed out of the medlab as Dr. Molotov was applying a bandage to the injured taikonaut. He left him to it.
VanHoff had assumed that Malbec would be located by now. In fact he assumed she would be dead at this stage. But, as always, she seemed to posses an innate ability to throw a spanner in the works, and ruin his plans. Not this time, he thought.
Kruger sat in the operations room, his feet up on the edge of the holo-table. He was cleaning his nails with a long knife. It had a serrated blade and looked like a tool more suited to gutting shark than to giving a manicure. Across from him sat Xenon. He was still and silent and exuded a Zen-like calm. VanHoff caught his eye momentarily as he entered the room. He found it hard to break away from his gaze, he felt sucked in, like his soul was laid bare for Xenon to see. He had to drag his eyes away by sheer force of will.
“Ahh… Peter. Excellent timing. I was just discussing with our colonist friend here the need for cooperation and harmony in the colony as we progress to COM governance.”
“And how’s that going?” said VanHoff as he sat down at the table.
“Very well. We have agreed on a plan to release a small contingent of colonists so that important maintenance tasks can be performed. Assuming full cooperation, and a positive mental attitude, then we can proceed over time to release all colonists into productive duties. Isn’t that so?” He directed his question at Xenon.
He simply nodded in reply.
“And what about Malbec?” VanHoff rubbed his temples again.
“I’m glad you asked that.” The commander sheathed the knife into a leather scabbard strapped to his belt, with a quick reflex action.
“No sign of her in Colony Two, which leads me to believe that someone is leading us on a merry dance.” He fixed his gaze on the Hybrid.
Xenon remained totally unfazed, it seemed to VanHoff that there was very little that could crack his aura of serenity. He almost envied him.
“So,” the commander slapped the table. “Tell me, where is she?”
“In Colony Two.” Xenon’s voice was smooth and calm, so much so that VanHoff had no trouble believing him.
“Bollocks.” Kruger leaned across the table. The tenor and amplitude of his reply startled VanHoff, and broke the spell that the Hybrid had conjured.
The commander stood up straight. “If she was there, we would have found her by now. So she isn’t, is she?”
Xenon remained silent.
“Okay, let’s see if we can realign your memory.” He tapped his earpiece and spoke. “Ready? Excellent. It’s show time.” He turned around to the main monitor. “You may want to have a look at this, Xenon.”
An aerial view of the biodome central dais materialized on screen. Two mercenaries pointed weapons at a group of colonists, who were all on their knees, hands on heads.
He turned back to Xenon. “Now, here’s what’s going to happen. I’m going to ask you again, and if I don’t like what I hear…” his arm moved to point back at the monitor. “One of your friends is going to fry. Got that”
Xenon remained silent.
“So, where is she?”
VanHoff liked this man. Brutal but efficient, a kindred spirit. As for Xenon, VanHoff perceived a note of tension ripple across his calm serene shell. Like a pebble being dropped into a still pool. The commander was not bluffing, everyone knew that.
“I don’t hear anything.” Kruger cocked a hand behind his ear as if to catch the sound of some distant echo.
“Fine,” he said at last. “If that’s the way you want to play it, so be it.” He turned back to the monitor and tapped his earpiece. “Pick one, and waste them.”
On screen a mercenary moved forward and aimed his weapon at the head of a hapless colonist. VanHoff could see the look of sheer terror etch itself on her face. Her body trembled and she mouthed a plea the he couldn’t quite make out.
The Commander turned back. “Last chance—no? Okay then.”
“No, wait.” Xenon finally broke, he lowered his head.
A faint smile cracked across VanHoff’s face. Finally, some results, he thought.
“I’m listening.”
Xenon slowly raised his head and looked at Kruger. His lips parted, ready to utter the truth—then he seemed to hesitate. A strange look came over his face, then VanHoff realized he was not looking at the commander, he was looking past him, at the feed from the biodome. VanHoff followed his gaze.
On screen, one of the mercenaries had doubled over and was on his knees, clawing at his head. His comrade looked unsure of what to do. He was keeping his weapon trained on the colonists, at the same time as shouting down to the distressed mercenary. In the operations room Kruger finally realized that both Xenon and VanHoff had their eyes fixed on the screen, he turned around to see what was happening.
“What the…” He tapped his earpiece. “Talk to me.”
Currently none of the weapons in the biodome were set to stun. A thought that ran through the Commander’s mind as he watched the demented mercenary raise his PEP and fire it at his comrade. Fortunately, he missed.
“Shit… take him out—now!” the commander screamed into his earpiece. But the mercenary bolted off into the undergrowth of the biodome before his comrade had a chance to return fire.”
“Benson, go after him… find him, and take him down!”
The colonists were beginning to panic and, seeing their chance, they ran for the now open tunnel exit. VanHoff watched all this with a sense of rising trepidation. A phrase that one of his old board members keep using, back when they first discovered that Colony One was still functioning, came into his head. What if it’s happening again? But before he could finish this particular line of thought a scream echoed around the main colony facility. It sounded to VanHoff like it came from the medlab. The commander was already on the move, barking orders to the COM mercenaries in the operations room with them. “You, stay here and keep an eye on the hybrid. And you, Slade, come with me.” VanHoff followed after them, racing through the facility to the medla
b. They stopped and took up positions either side of the medlab door. The commander shouted in. “Dr. Molotov!” No answer. He signaled for Slade to enter, then followed in behind him.
The doctor was lying on the floor, blood oozing from a head wound. Standing over him, holding a long steel bar, was the taikonaut they had brought in earlier. The commander raised his weapon to shoot.
“Don’t kill him,” VanHoff shouted.
“What? He’s a homicidal maniac.”
“No, don’t kill him, I need him.”
The commander gave VanHoff a wary look, then tilted his weapon to set it on stun, and fired. The taikonaut did a kind of chicken dance for a second as his nerve endings spasmed from the electrical overload. Then he dropped on top of the doctor.
“I hope to hell you know what you’re doing. Next time I take him out—permanently.” The commander nodded to Slade. “You go and help Benson in the biodome. I’ll deal with this.”
Kruger lifted up the unconscious taikonaut and strapped him down to one of the operating tables. VanHoff checked on the status of the clone Nills. All good, vitals looked stable. Only then did he turn his attention to the doctor. He was still alive, the wound on his head looked worse than it actually was. He sat him up and after a minute he began to come around.
“What the hell happened?” Kruger leaned over him like a storm cloud about to burst.
The doctor lifted a feeble hand as if to wave off the impending threat. “He just suddenly woke up. Started saying something about his head, something like he couldn’t get them out. I went over to talk to him and he just whacked me on the skull.”
“What do you mean, he couldn’t get them out?”
The doctor said nothing, just shrugged his shoulders.
“Well it all sounds pretty goddamn weird to me.” Kruger stood upright and took a few steps back from the doctor.
VanHoff turned around to him. “I think it’s all under control now, Commander. I can take it from here.”
The commander leaned in, his face close to VanHoff. “In case you haven’t noticed, there is a crazy on the loose in the biodome and a population of panicked colonists trying to get out. So I would say things are far from being under control.”
VanHoff raised himself up as best he could and answered the commander’s stare. “You are here to do a job, now I suggest you go do it.”
There was a momentary silence, as taut as a fully wound spring. Kruger backed off, unclipped a small PEP weapon from his waistband and set it down on the workbench. “Part of my job is to keep people alive. So use this if you have to.”
VanHoff nodded reluctantly.
“I’ve set it to stun. Don’t want you killing any of us by mistake.” He spun around and headed out of the medlab.
If there was one thing that Kruger enjoyed more than having everything under control, it was when everything was totally out of control. He was in his element in these situations, it was an addictive adrenaline rush that made life worth living. When things were just on the edge, ready to spiral into chaos, that’s when Willem Kruger felt most alive. Now, as he raced across the common room to the biodome door, he felt a wave of excitement ripple through him as he reviewed the current situation.
There was no doubt in his mind that his crew were exposed to the same infection that he had feared might happen. The COM mission hierarchy had gone to great pains to dismiss this scenario as highly unlikely, but Kruger was not paid to live in the unlikely. His worth lay in situations where the shit had hit the fan.
So far one of the Xaing Zu crew had gone over to the dark side. He should have killed him when he had the chance. But at least he was incapacitated, and now out of the fight. The colonists had also seen fit to corral the rest of the Chinese in one of the food processing pods, so they too were rendered inactive. His thoughts now turned to his own COM crew. Already one had gone feral in the biodome. But his major concern was how many more would succumb to this psychotic malaise. A horrific thought struck him—could he too become infected? And how would he even know? He put these thoughts out of his mind and concentrated on the current active threats, and how best to contain them. He checked his weapon.
As Kruger approached the tunnel entrance to the biodome he could hear screaming and yelling emanating from within. He pressed his hand to his earpiece. “Slade, Benson, talk to me. I’m approaching the entrance to the biodome, what’s the situation?”
Stay frosty, he’s heading your way, commander.
With that a number of colonists ran out through the tunnel, they didn’t even skip a beat when they saw him. This was not a good sign, as the threat that he posed to them obviously paled in comparison to what they were running from.
A blast from a PEP weapon split the air ahead of him and a colonist collapsed in a writhing heap of flashing light. It snaked and swirled around his body before finally extinguishing itself. The colonist’s forward momentum kept him sliding along the floor right up to Kruger’s feet. He resisted the temptation to look down and check on the immobilized colonist, his ingrained training instead keeping him focused on the threat, fortunately for Kruger, as the crazed mercenary now came into view.
He was moving at speed towards the commander, but his gait was awkward and he seemed to be rolling his head as he ran. Kruger raised his weapon to take a shot, but he was too slow, a bolt of incandescent light burst out from the mercenary’s weapon. Kruger threw himself sideways as the flash passed him by. He hit the floor, rolled and came around for a shot, but something was wrong. His left side was not responding. His arm was paralyzed, he must have been hit. All he could do was watch as the crazed mercenary sped past him, knocking over panicked colonists like ninepins as he barreled forward.
“Guys, talk to me, I’m down, he’s getting past me. Where the hell are you?”
“Here, Commander.” Kruger looked up and saw lieutenants Benson and Slade standing over him. Benson offered him a hand up. “You okay, sir?”
“Bastard winged me. My left arm is non-operational for a while.” He stood up and gripped the weapon tight in his good arm and looked down through the biodome entrance tunnel. The flow of panicking colonists had stopped. Those still inside, which was the bulk of them, had chosen to stay there, assuming it to be the safer option, which from where Kruger was standing made perfect sense.
“Listen to me, Benson. I want you to get VanHoff and the doctor out of the medlab, get them into EVA suits and bring them to the safe zone we identified. You know where that is?”
“Yes sir. What about the biodome door, and the escaped colonists?”
“Screw them. They’re too scared to do anything but hide. The ones still in the biodome aren’t going anywhere. We can round up the stragglers later. First you need to get VanHoff to the safe zone. We will track down this crazy bastard. Got it?”
“Got it, sir.” Lieutenant Benson ran off to the medlab.
Kruger watched him go as he took a moment to rub some feeling back in to his arm, then he took a look around. The colonists that had escaped from the biodome were nowhere to be seen, save for the one lying on the ground in front of him. He wondered if he was dead and then he saw the gentle rise and fall of his chest. He’s okay, he’ll live—probably. Kruger checked his weapon again, gripped it tight, and moved off in the direction of the operations room. This was also the access route to the other sectors of the facility. The situation was still volatile, but he was back in the saddle and on the hunt for live game. God, he loved this job.
It took VanHoff a few moments to regain his composure after facing off with the commander. He ignored the weapon Kruger had left on the workbench and instead focused his attentions on Dr. Molotov, who was now strapping his head with a bandage and checking himself in the mirror. “Going to need a few stitches I should think,” he said as he gingerly touched the wound above his temple. VanHoff, seeing Molotov was okay, turned back to look over the unconscious Xaing Zu taikonaut. Now that the mayhem had been brought under control, a slow realization had been buil
ding in his mind since observing the incident in the biodome. This realization was now becoming fully formed as he stared down at the face of this crazed individual. “Could be happening again?” he said to no one in particular.
“What was that you said?” Dr. Molotov was applying an adhesive bandage to close his wound.
“There’s only one thing that could make this guy and the COM mercenary in the biodome go crazy like that.”
Dr. Molotov spun around and stared at VanHoff for a moment. “You mean there’s another one?”
“Yes. In the biodome. A while ago, one of our own crew went crazy, started shooting up the place.”
The doctor walked over and looked down at the taikonaut. “We’d better get an IV into him, keep him sedated. We don’t want him going nuts again.” He pulled out a cannula from a drawer beside the operating table and cracked open the seal.
While Dr. Molotov set about ensuring the unfortunate Chinese crewmember was well out of harm’s way, VanHoff’s mind began to race with the implications of these chaotic events. If his suspicions were true then there was only one sure way to find out. So, it was with shaking fingers that VanHoff drew a vial of blood from the patient’s arm. If it was truly happening again then he wouldn’t need much blood to confirm it.
He prepared a slide and slid it under the microscope. He leaned in to look through the eyepiece, and slowly nudged the focus. His point of view moved around the sample, nothing looked out of the ordinary. But then he stopped and froze. There it was, a clump of dark elongated bacteria. There was no mistaking it. His heart skipped a beat and he snapped his head away from the microscope eyepiece.
“What is it?” Dr. Molotov looked over at him.
VanHoff waved a hand to silence him. This was a seminal moment. The thing that he had been searching for, the thing that had been denied him so many times—here it was at last. He peered in through the microscope eyepiece again. He was afraid that he might have been imagining it, that it wasn’t really there. He scanned the sample for a few more moments before saying, “I’ve found it.”
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