by Matt Verish
16
REVELATION
Cole was aboard an alien spacecraft, headed toward an unknown destination. He might have made the greatest mistake of his life. Whether it was the euphoria of enacting his childhood dream, or simply alien magic that had coaxed him aboard, he had been unable to resist the lure of the Unknown. His hosts were still hidden to him, but he did not mind—perhaps because the alcohol wore away his concerns. Almost all his concerns; his crew had been abandoned. They probably considered him the scourge of the universe, but he would make them understand the significance of his actions when he returned. If he returned. And only after I first figure out why I did what I did. Maybe then I’ll ask them why they didn’t try to stop me.
He found his thoughts muddled, and he wondered whether he was hallucinating or simply losing his mind. Perhaps I’m dead.
Even though the spacesuit eliminated his sense of touch, he could feel the solidness of his surroundings, bizarre though they were. From within the concave walls, a frosty blue light barely illuminated the space they surrounded. His environment had an organic quality about it, as though it was somehow alive. Even stranger was the sense that this vessel was familiar to him, though he couldn’t place a finger on what it was he recognized. The longer he studied the interior, the harder it was to concentrate.
He placed his hand against the wall to keep from falling over, but a sudden, pounding headache brought him to his knees, and he thought he might throw up.
Then he was on the floor, writhing in pain. A high-pitched ringing smothered even his own screaming. He would not be surprised if someone was slowly drilling through his skull to his brain, and he was helpless to stop it. Now there was only regret—regret that replaced his initial euphoria. He would gladly welcome death over this invisible torture.
Then it stopped.
He lay there for a while, terror lingering where the ringing had abated. With his gaze upon the vaulted ceiling, the gears of his mind began to turn. Were his hosts responsible for this invasion. Well, if they’re digging through my mind grapes, they’re gonna be sorely disappointed.
When he finally gathered the courage to sit up, he wondered why he was still alone. Were they frightened? Were they decontaminating him before they approached? Or were they studying him like an insect? They better not pin me to a giant piece of styrofoam and mislabel me. And stomping me flat is out of the question!
Minutes passed without incident, and he rose to one knee. The pain did not return, so curiosity began to overcome his fear, propelling him to stand and further explore his surroundings. It occurred to him that there was no furniture or cargo; the room was barren.
I’m the cargo, he thought. Precious cargo. Fragile. Handle with care. Well, maybe not that last part. He turned back to where he had entered the vessel, perplexed by what he saw. That wall wasn’t there a second ago.
Not only had a new wall silently erected itself at the far end of the room, but he would be damned if it wasn’t moving... Closing in, to be exact. As were the walls to either side. He reached to rub his eyes, accidentally punching the glass faceplate of his helmet. He blinked repeatedly, hoping his eyes were playing tricks on him. But they weren’t, and like some twisted optical illusion, the floor and ceiling began to converge and spiral inward, tightening like a collapsing tube.
I was wrong. They are trying to stomp me flat.
He continued to move backward without turning to see where he was headed. His hand reached back for the obstruction he knew was there, but it was left wanting. He chanced a fleeting glance at his destination, only to see it too had altered. In place of a fourth wall was a narrow slit of an opening. An opening that was parting wider and wider.
They’re herding me, he realized with both relief and trepidation. The moment his bulky suit was able to squeeze through the breach, he seized the opportunity and followed the intensifying blue light toward the unknown. Behind him, darkness closed in, and the room ended its collapse, leaving no escape. He could only follow the light.
He marched down the corridor to where it terminated: a small platform leading to nowhere. The platform raised upward before he knew what was happening, carrying him through a ceiling that split as his head threatened to crash into it. Though his surroundings seemed malleable, a light bump of his fist against the wall told him otherwise. How was it such a ship could function with this strange design?
When the “lift” reached its destination, he hoped he would reach answers too. The wall parted in front of him, and he stepped through. Then it promptly resealed itself, trapping him inside. He didn’t have claustrophobia, but this constant entrapment was ebbing at his nerves.
This new “room” was actually a bridge—not unlike the one aboard the Icarus. There was a console of sorts near a pitch-black viewport. There were no visible controls, and he wondered why there was a bridge at all if the flight equipment was unnecessary. It was another question for his hosts, if they were even aboard.
Could be a remote operation, he considered. If that’s the case, then they won’t mind if I poke around. Pushing aside his anxiety, he approached the console. The inspection was short-lived, as there was nothing notable to see or touch.
“What is this?” he asked aloud, frustration getting the better of him. “Why am I here? Am I your prisoner or your guest? Please, enlighten me.”
The response was immediate, though not what he expected. Another glowing seam formed in front of him, only this time it was on the viewport. As the vertical line separated, it revealed the expanse of the unknown beyond. Stars scattered across the endless midnight seemed nearly tangible, as though he could reach out and grab them. The closer he moved to the viewport, he realized there was no barrier between him and space.
How...?
There was no time to consider the impossible, as his attention was drawn to the planet coming into view. It was not unlike the terraformed Mars, yet not as wet as the drowned Earth. Three tiny clustered moons appeared like pinpoints. Scale was impossible to judge, but it didn’t matter to him. The idea of setting foot on an unexplored planet was the makings of his wildest fantasies. This was what he had sought through NASA’s Uncharted program—a program in which he never got the chance to participate.
Now, here he was, aboard an alien vessel, with a front-row view of a brand new world. He should be terrified, and maybe there was fear—in the back of his mind—along with his concern for his crew. His time as Captain of the Icarus meant nothing now that he had left behind a universe determined to kill him.
Why not revel in this? he thought.
Distinct shapes of clouds, continents, and vast oceans took his breath away. There were all the signs of a habitable planet before him, but the true test would be to remove his helmet and take that glorious first breath. Unless, of course, it killed him.
He shook his head, and he wondered how far he was from the Icarus. The scanners had not registered any planets on the scanners when they first came through the black hole. Had this alien vessel taken him clear across the galaxy? And did his hosts have any intention of returning him once they were finished with him?
Too many questions to ask, after I ask them to take me to their leader.
The vessel entered the planet’s atmosphere with a speed too quick for him to commit it all to memory. He thought too late to switch on his Ocunet recorder. Once he emerged from the atmosphere, the rest of his journey would be documented, though it would mean little if he were to die.
In what sort of environment would he find himself? Frozen tundra, arid desert, lush, tropical rainforest, purple mountain majesty... Or did the physics of this planet defy that to which he was accustomed? What looked familiar from his lofty vantage could be deceiving. What if the oceans were actually a form of blue gas, and the mountains, brown-gray ice? The very soil itself could be a living being. And the trees are Ents, he thought, realizing his imagination was getting the best of him. He was beginning to believe these aliens were messing with his mind.
&nb
sp; When he finally came out the other side of the burn, for the fleetest of moments, he saw paradise. The zealot residents of Earth would refer to it as Eden, and he wondered if any of them ever experienced a transformative event akin to what he was beholding at this very moment. Was this what it was like to touch the divine, if there was such a thing? He highly doubted their Stone Age, brainwashed ways could comprehend what it meant to appreciate life.
Recovering from his religious experience, he enhanced his Ocunet vision upon a clearing—the apparent site for their landing. The surrounding landscape was a forest of some sort: vivid turquoise boughs adorning silvery-black trunks. The surreal colors distracted him from the delicate landing. The clouds broke, and burnt orange light from some distant star streamed through, shimmering like golden fire on the tips of the waving leaves.
It was a good minute or so before he finally noticed the cluster of ships huddled together. Some were similar in size and design to the one upon which he had boarded. There was no outside activity, so he intended to head inside to meet the occupants.
As if sensing his intentions, the vessel began to change its shape once more. The width of the viewport narrowed, elongating downward into a set of steps leading to the planet’s surface. The sight beckoned him, invited him to explore.
Challenge accepted.
He had intended to run, magboots and all, but he hit the ground like an anvil from a rooftop. Gravity. The alien vessel’s artificial gravity was gone, leaving Cole to discover his body was much heavier than if he had been on Mars. When he bent to reclaim his rifle, he wished he hadn’t. Not only did it weigh nearly twice as much, but his back struggled to lift it along with his leaden body. Undaunted, he would explore as much as he could until his flesh and muscle tore from his bones.
Before he took his first heavy footsteps upon this sacred land, he examined the gray dirt that had collected upon his suit. While it seemed like nothing more than debris, it meant so much more to him at this moment. He clutched the dirt in his fist, not wanting any to escape him.
His attention was directed by a presence. A lone figure had emerged from one of the clustered vessels and was heading for him. He could not wrest his eyes from this person—could not believe what he was witnessing. How had he managed to evade the clutches of his universe and slip through uncharted scientific territory, only to be whisked away on some unmanned alien vessel to the closest habitable sphere. How was it possible to leave all of humanity behind....
...Only to find her.
“Mom?”
PART THREE
METAMORPHOSIS
ICARUS LOG 003:
“The mutiny stings, but I can live with it. Hell, I can even live with the knowledge that I was being played from the start. But what I don’t appreciate is my goddamn mother coming back from the dead! If that wasn’t enough, the evil bitch somehow managed to regain my trust, only to ruin my life a second time. Oh well. At least I got to visit an uncharted planet. Too bad it was my last.”
17
EVOLUTION
Cole woke to a crushing weight on his chest. His surroundings were unfamiliar, and his oxygen levels read critical. Arms and legs could move freely, though the heavy obstruction barred his path to freedom.
A blanket?
Thicker than the average comforter, he could not recall ever being trapped beneath one...tucked or not. As he struggled to recall past events, he managed to shove the weight from him; it dropped with a surprising whump, and the sound stirred his first memory.
New planet. New gravity. Right. But what the hell happened?
He fought to sit upright. Last he remembered, he had discovered his mother on an unfamiliar planet, though the harder he tried to sift through his brain, the more jumbled thoughts became. He was certain he’d either been drugged or injured, but there were no holes or blood on his spacesuit, no cracks in his helmet, no physical pain aside from the strain against gravity. Swinging his legs from the cot renewed the aches, and blood rushed to his face, followed by a pounding headache.
Well, I’ve had enough of this place.
Just like that, all his aspirations of becoming the System’s most infamous explorer of new worlds did not seem as appealing. Perhaps the rigorous training with NASA in the Uncharted program could have prepared him for this, but it was too late now, and he was never much for following strict a regimen anyway.
Standing was a chore, and he sucked in a deep breath to prepare himself for the grueling walk to follow... Only, he was denied the intake of oxygen. The critical warning light flashed an angry blood red. No matter what he did, nor how fast he attempted to fix his situation, he was going to suffocate.
Giving his immediate surroundings a quick glance, he hoped this vessel was full of breathable air. It was a gamble he had to take. He removed his helmet.
That his head did not implode and his eyes shrivel into dried prunes was a relief. The oxygen filling his lungs was cold, tickled inside his chest, and smelled faintly of rust. But it didn’t kill him. He dropped his helmet in disbelief.
“It may yet kill you.”
Cole awkwardly spun toward the vaguely familiar voice. A figure stood in the room’s only entrance, obscured by the shadows of the dark hallway beyond. He could see the “person’s” eyes, however, for they glowed an eerie, pale green.
“The air or my heart attack?”
The figure stared back at him, though the intensity of that alien glow seemed to soften. “Since we’ve been here, we managed to manipulate this planet’s toxicity to a stable level using our Organitech. That is, as long as those affected remained aboard our ships.” A pause. “You, however, are not evolved.”
I definitely know that voice. Cole took another breath of the foreign air. “ ‘Organitech,’ ” he repeated. “Is that like a fancy title for someone who repairs expensive pianos?”
The figure chuckled. “Gray streaks aside, you haven’t changed one bit, Cole.”
Cole’s reservations fell away. “Fej! Executive Officer Francis E. Jaworski. So it is you.”
The figure stepped into the dim light of the room. The soldier and friend Cole knew lovingly as “Fej” was changed. While his physique was the same, his skin was metallic, tinged with hints of browns and violet. When he moved, his flesh was more akin to snake scales than soft skin. “Otherworldly” was an understatement.
“Shit, Fej...” Cole said, unable to look away. “You look like an android had sex with a lizard, then accidentally applied some makeup. Badly, mind you.”
Fej smiled, but it was a cold smile. “And you’ve aged far less than I would’ve expected. Time’s been kind to you.”
Cole frowned. “Most of my best years are behind me, but I still feel like I’m twenty-five. Hell, it’s only been fifteen years since...” He watched Fej’s face contort at the mention of time passage, and he knew he’d touched a sensitive topic. “Something wrong with what I said?”
As Fej approached, Cole was envious of the ease with which his friend moved. He sat down on the cot before answering, his glowing gaze distant. “It’s been less than two years since we first arrived in this new universe. And barely a year since we colonized this planet.”
Cole’s eyes widened. “Gravitational time dilation.” He sat heavily beside his friend.
Fej nodded. “It took us a while before any of us understood how GTD affected this planet. We originally had more pressing matters to deal with.” He faced Cole, a smirk on his grayish face. “Thanks to you.”
Cole’s cheeks burned, his chin dipping slightly below his shoulders. “Yeah, about that. I hadn’t realized you’d been transferred aboard the Daedalus until after my court martial hearing. Hurt like a sonofabitch to know I did you wrong. Though, I probably would’ve gone through with my plan anyway. Think on that how you want.”
Fej sighed. “You were always honest, Cole. But don’t worry; I don’t hold you accountable. Harper was out of control, and you were the only one with the courage to stop her.” He looked at his meta
llic hands. “Though I never would’ve thought this would be the outcome.”
“Where is my mother, anyway?” Cole asked. “And more importantly, what in the Sam Hill happened to you?”
Fej stood in response and gestured toward the door. “It’s best I just show you.”
~
As ill-advised as it was for Cole to remove his spacesuit, there was no way he would have been able to keep pace with Fej with all the added weight and magboots. Lighter though he was, the “walk” still felt more like a mountain climb. He was soon soaked in his own sweat, and his muscles seemed ready to tear away from the bone. If the exertion didn’t kill him, then the alien air probably would. If it wasn’t already killing him.
Cole ran his hand across the top of a computer console, fingertips coming away with dust. His legs begged him to sit on the waist-high unit. “Maybe you can carry me while you complete the ten-cent tour.”
“We can rest awhile if you like. There’s much more to tell.”
Cole was pretty certain that if he sat or laid down, he would give Rip Van Winkle a run for his money. “I’ll just lean against this wall for a bit. It’ll give me some time to process everything I’ve heard so far.”
He hit the wall harder than he intended, his shoulder sliding into a corner, adding support. “So let me get this straight: my mother scrambled my memories with her new evolutionary powers, left me for dead on this planet, and I unknowingly offered to her a way back to our universe?”
Fej shrugged. “Harper’s been nothing, if not patient. Through it all, she’d waited for the moment to make her way back. That you unexpectedly showed up with the solution she’d been seeking only sweetened the deal.”
Cole shook his head, frustrated he could not recall the details of his encounter with the woman he thought he’d murdered. “Any idea why she let me live?”