Sea of Sorrows

by James A. Moore

  “Near as we can figure, it sort of is. Or was, at least.” Willis spoke with an almost paternal sense, as if this was a pet that he had raised, and now that it had won a blue ribbon, he actually radiated pride. “The walls, the floor, even the doorways, they all have features akin to plant life. Doctor Tanaka is in charge of examining the ship, and she thinks it’s distinctly possible that the entire thing was grown.”

  Decker frowned. There was a question niggling at the back of his mind, but he couldn’t quite draw it out into the open.

  Willis stopped speaking, and stood quietly as the freelancers moved forward.

  The area had been excavated with care, and the hard surface above them looked dry, as far as they could tell. Decker wasn’t a geologist, but he felt comfortable with the knowledge that the roof was secure.

  The damned thing was too big for them to see all of it. Though lights had been secured to the ceiling above, they were dim, casting the area in a perpetual twilight. The walls of the ship stretched away into shadows. Near the entrance there were several large power cells, most of which had not yet been set up, and two generators that were going full-steam ahead.

  “There are plans to bring down more lights,” Willis said. “You can see why.”

  “Where is Doctor Tanaka?” Manning’s voice was calm, and even a bit subdued. The man was squinting along the side of the ship, trying to see as far as he could. “And what are those things?”

  He pointed to a thick column of glistening black that ran from the ceiling down to the ship. It didn’t look like a part of the vessel itself, and Decker recognized it instantly for what it was. The same sort of deposit that had cracked under his foot, broken into his skin, and nearly cut through his leg the last time he’d been on the planet.

  His guts twisted again, but for entirely different reasons this time. There was no fear—merely a memory of the pain and the sudden assault that had sent him into seizures.

  “You okay?” Adams was frowning at him, and her hand touched his forehead. Her fingers felt warm, but only because his own flesh was clammy.

  “I will be,” he said, regaining his composure. “Just taking it all in.”

  She didn’t look as if she believed him, but she didn’t push it, either.

  “Doctor Tanaka is tracking one of the growths, like the one you pointed out. They’re hollow, apparently, and composed of pure silicon. From what she’s said to me, they’re everywhere inside the alien vehicle.” Decker focused on the thick column of fused sand. It had an odd beauty to it, and glistened almost wetly. There were fine striations and swirls throughout the surface of it that made him think of spun sugar or…

  Or a spider’s webs.

  The aliens they were supposed to track—the ones they were supposed to capture. Would they have come from the ship? If they were still around, would they still be aboard? Or was it possible that the glossy tunnels had been their way of escaping from the wreckage?

  Dave—or as Decker now thought of him, Silent Dave—looked at the tunnel and frowned heavily. Decker could feel the edginess radiate from the man like heat, but aside from the frown he gave no sign of his heavy agitation.

  “What?” Decker asked.

  Dave looked at him for a long moment.

  “The Xenomorphs. There was something about them binding their hosts.”

  Before Decker could respond Manning spoke up.

  “Where do they go? The tubes.”

  Everywhere. He almost said it. Willis answered instead.

  “We’re not sure yet. We only discovered them after we started digging the ship out. At first we thought they were a part of the original structure, but it almost seems as if they were later additions. They definitely aren’t the same material as the vessel itself.”

  Decker joined in.

  “They’re silicon deposits,” he said. “I’ve seen them before, topside, where many of them actually break the surface. They’re all over the Sea of Sorrows.”

  Willis nodded.

  “The way they’ve spread shows certain organic tendencies. Whatever they are, some are large enough to allow a human being to move around inside, and there’s a distinct logic to their structure. Yesterday Doctor Tanaka and several of her team members broke open one of the larger ones and entered, taking along supplies. They hope to map some of the growth.”

  “That doesn’t sound like a good idea.” Decker spoke softly. Actually it seemed full-on insane to him. The integrity of the things had to be questionable at best.

  “They don’t really have a choice, Mister Decker,” Willis said. “The ‘silicon deposits,’ as you call them, are widespread. They run through a lot of the ship’s interior, and throughout the surrounding area. Doctor Tanaka feels it’s important to understand their nature and purpose.”

  “Why aren’t they using mechanical probes?” Manning frowned as he tracked one of the columns into the ceiling of the cave, far above them. “That seems a lot less risky.”

  Decker agreed silently. Mapping probes would make it possible to assess the entire range of tunnels without ever having to set foot into them. Engineering teams often used them before they set down the component parts of the terraforming engines. The damned things weighed-in at several tons each, and having one of them fall through weak areas in the soil could prove catastrophic.

  “They tried,” Willis said. “There’s low-level radiation in the area, and that interferes with the sensors. So it has to be done by hand. But Tanaka should be perfectly safe—the levels are too low to be hazardous.”

  Two of the mercs, Dave again and Muller, looked skeptical, and reached for their packs. Decker had a feeling they were going to check for themselves, and determine whether or not the radiation was a serious threat.

  Willis looked at them and shook his head.

  “You don’t have to worry,” he said. “Believe you me, I wouldn’t be here if there was a serious threat to anyone’s health.” He smiled to try to make it into a joke. “I’m far too fond of my own skin to risk it here.”

  No one laughed.

  “It doesn’t seem to affect simple communication,” he continued, “and the further we get from the ship, the less radiation we encounter. It’s possible that the source of the interference comes from the wreckage itself. At any rate, while Tanaka is focusing on the tubes, Doctor Silas is exploring on the other side of the ship. Apparently there’s a lot of very old damage that was done to this thing when it crashed here, and he thinks he can figure out what made that happen.”

  “No one’s gone inside yet?” Manning stared at a hole in the side of the vessel. It was very old, and there were signs that they’d had to excavate a good deal of dirt from the interior.

  “Oh, they’ve been inside, but they couldn’t get very far. There’s a lot of damage. Fire damage, possibly, or something else. It looks like a few of the interior walls were melted, at any rate.”

  “So we’re just supposed to go inside the ship,” another merc said, “without any idea what we’ll find, and no backup?” Decker liked her immediately—she had a brain. A few others murmured their agreement.

  “No, Hartsfield,” Manning replied. “I thought we might just sit out here, spread a blanket, and have a fucking picnic.” Without another word, he headed toward the ship. The rest followed.

  Decker stared up at the black tubes again. Tanaka and her crew had gone into those things? Willingly? The formations ran up fifty or sixty feet from the ship, before they vanished into the walls of the cavern.

  Manning called over his shoulder.

  “Pretty sure I’m going to need you up here, bloodhound.”

  “Knew you were a dog,” Piotrowicz said.

  Decker didn’t dignify his comment with a response, and caught up with the rest. He had his nerves under control, but that didn’t stop him from thinking they were taking it too fast.

  “Seriously, Manning, I do not like this place. We should take it slow and careful.”

  Manning frowned.

&n
bsp; “I don’t give a shit what you do and don’t like, Decker,” Manning replied. “Just do your job. Don’t go freaking out on me. Understood?”

  “Yeah,” Decker replied. “I get it.”

  * * *

  Dirt had been piled up against the ship, and a ramp of boards and metal sheeting led to a hole in the side. The rupture was large enough that they could see up to levels they couldn’t hope to reach without ladders or scaling equipment. Scaffolding materials were stacked to the left of the ramp.

  “Just how big is this thing?” Manning said, talking to himself.

  Decker was about to reply when something hit him hard enough to make him wince. The sensation was as sharp as an exposed nerve in a broken tooth.

  “There’s something here,” he said.

  “What?” Manning looked hard at him. “Where?”

  Decker closed his eyes and concentrated. He was rewarded for his efforts with a crawling sensation across his brain. Still, even that was helpful. Maybe. He couldn’t be sure—he could only go with what his gut was telling him.

  “Up and to the left,” he said, pointing toward the large tube. “There’s something there. It doesn’t…” He shook his head. “It doesn’t feel like anything human.” It was the best description he could offer.

  Manning peered in the direction he’d indicated, where the shadows blurred the details. He shone a lamp up there, but it did little good. About thirty feet up, the large black tube pierced the side of the ship, curving up toward the cavern’s distant ceiling.

  Nothing moved, yet the crawling sensation in his head acted like a sensor buzzing at a radioactive hotspot. There was something up there—something that sent off waves of emotion. He gritted his teeth, and focused on remaining calm.

  “DiTillio, Rodriguez, Joyce,” Manning barked. “Go check out that tunnel, see if you can find anything worth seeing. And be careful.”

  The three mercs nodded as their names were called, and headed toward the hull of the ship. Their goal was a spot directly below the point where the fused black tube met with the vessel’s remains. As they moved they prepared their weapons. Rodriguez pulled out his reaper, while DiTillio activated his plasma rifle, and a very faint whine pierced the gloom.

  Soon they were out of sight, and the sound of their footsteps, crunching on the cavern floor, faded away. Manning looked over at Decker for a moment.

  “You think three is enough?”

  “No idea.” His first instinct was to say “no,” but he couldn’t give a good reason. So he held his tongue.

  “No?” Manning said. “Then why exactly are you being paid as a consultant?”

  “Who said anything about being paid?” Decker replied. “I’m just here for the scenery and the accommodations.” So fuck you, and fuck your attitude, he added silently.

  Manning just shot him a look and turned toward the rest of the group, barking orders, positioning them for entering the vast wreckage.

  At his command three more of the mercenaries broke open their backpacks and started setting up portable monitoring stations. They positioned themselves next to one of the closer stacks of building materials, which provided places to set up and to sit. Each of the three hefted a large, well-protected screen and as Decker stood watching, they began syncing their systems and then adding individual feeds from each of the mercenaries.

  One of the three beckoned him over—the patch on her shirt said “Perkins.” She pulled out a camera for his helmet and a Personal Identifier Patch that went on his bared forearm, to read his vitals. As soon as the PIP was in place, she checked the readout on her screen, and then gave him a strange look.

  “You worried?” she asked.

  “Why?” he said. “Should I be?”

  “Your pulse is way too high,” she said. “Way the hell too high.” She called Manning over to one side, and they kept their voices low. Then another of the techs spoke up.

  “This is looking like a waste of time, boss,” It was Dae Cho, the senior tech, who pointed to the screen in front of him, and then to another one. “We’re only getting readings from the PIPs that are close by—but nothing more than twenty feet away.” Manning studied them intently and then spoke into the headset on his helmet.

  “DiTillio? You read me?”

  “Yeah, chief, but your signal isn’t great.”

  “Any sign of trouble?”

  “We haven’t even made it to the tunnel entrance. Damn thing’s halfway up the exterior of the ship. There’s footholds, and we’re climbing, but it’s slow going.”

  “We can’t get any readings off your vital patch-ins.”

  “Hang on. Checking.” There was silence, broken a moment later by DiTillio’s voice. “We’re all live and wearing PIPs. Everything seems to be working on this end.”

  Willis heard the discussion and walked over.

  “It’s the same as with the probes,” he said. “There’s interference.”

  Manning barely acknowledged the man’s presence. Instead he looked to the techs. Perkins, Dwadji, and Cho were playing with their keyboards and screens.

  “Fix this shit,” he said. “Now.”

  Cho nodded his head and responded.

  “Working on it, boss. Might just be a frequency issue. We’ll run the spectrum.”

  Manning nodded his head and walked away. After a moment’s hesitation, Decker followed him.

  He took exactly seven steps before a wave surged through him, stronger than before. That feeling of being watched—it was pervasive, and it was growing stronger.

  Shit, I’ve got to keep it together, he thought, and then he said, “Manning, it’s getting worse.” His head was ringing with pain.

  “What’s getting worse?” The merc spun on him, then went silent for a moment, staring at him intently. “Okay, we need to see about getting you a sedative. You look like you’re about to stroke out on me.” He called out to his crew. “Piotrowicz, come see to our guest over here. He needs something to calm him down.”

  Piotrowicz headed over and studied Decker with a clinical eye, and then looked past him at the readouts on the screens. It was easy to see which one was his, because the readings were radically different from everyone else’s.

  “Calm down, buddy,” the merc said. “It’s not the end of the world—just a little salvage.” His voice was surprisingly calming. “We’ll get through this, but you have to chill out.” His backpack came off, and a moment later he was rolling out a small syringe-gun. “Just a mild sedative,” Piotrowicz explained. “I took stronger when I quit smoking.”

  “You smoked?”

  Piotrowicz grinned at him. “Yeah. I was young and the girl was cute. Got hooked, got better.”

  “What did you smoke?”

  “Well, it wasn’t legal.” He administered the injection, which pushed the liquid through the skin without using a needle. It hurt like hell, but within seconds the effects took hold. Decker felt himself relaxing. He could still focus, but he could breathe again.

  Piotrowicz looked at the monitor, and looked satisfied.

  “My job here is done. You start feeling weird or like it’s wearing off, come see me.” He put his pack back together and slid it across his shoulders. “I get to carry all the good shit.”

  Decker nodded and looked at the ship again, taking it in with a clearer, calmer head. Calmer—but not calm. He could still feel that radiating sense of hatred. So far it seemed to be stationary, and the three men who’d been sent off were heading right for it.

  16

  WETWORKS

  The side of the ship was dusty and smelled as old as it looked, moldy and bitter. Still, DiTillio was smiling as he climbed up the side and looked at the tunnel ahead. Every moment brought him that much closer to making a shitload of money.

  Of course, it also took him further away from the main group. A little over a hundred yards was all that separated them, but it might as well have been a mile. And the shape of the cavern was messing with sound, sometimes muffling it,
other times sending out echoes. They were out of direct line of sight, too. Stacks of supplies blocked the view, leaving him guessing where the rest of the team was.

  If they needed backup, they’d have to rely on the headsets.

  Joyce was right next to him and looking around with wide eyes. His long face was pulled into a smile that showed his uneven teeth.

  “What are you grinning about?” DiTillio poked fun at his teammate. He wasn’t used to the other merc being so enthusiastic.

  “Always wanted to see something like this, mate,” Joyce replied. “My whole life.”

  “What? Aliens?”

  “Well, yeah. ’Course. Don’t you know how incredible this is?”

  “Incredible enough to make us a shitload of money, if we play it right,” DiTillio said, and he peered around. “That Decker guy said there’s something dangerous over here. I wonder what it is. I hope it’s one of the bug things. I want to check those out.”

  “Well, yeah,” Joyce replied. “I mean, I’m glad we’re armed. But I just can’t believe we’re really here. Looking at proof of other beings. Looking at something no other human has ever seen. Almost no one, that is,” he added, correcting himself. Then he slapped the surface of the ship. “Touching something most humans have never touched, and never will.”

  DiTillio allowed himself a grin. The man was right. This was an incredible moment, the sort he could tell his grandkids about some day.

  The surface of the vast ship was curved, and they’d been climbing with relative ease, but the going got tougher as they neared the silicon tunnel. The good news was that someone had attempted to string lights over the surface, and the wires worked relatively well as extra purchase. They looked old, though—none of the bulbs worked, a bunch of them were broken, and the insulation was in tatters. Only the dryness of the cavern had prevented them from rusting away.

  He wondered if they would find one of the aliens Weyland-Yutani had sent them to retrieve. He’d always planned to study xenobiology, but a stint in the Colonial Marines had made him decide he preferred a life out on the Rim. It was easier, the pay was good, and there were plenty of distractions.