by Merita King
Once he had got over the initial shock of his discovery, Tovis decided he really should tell Tearan. Climbing back up the stairs to deck four, he quickened his pace while climbing past deck six and raced along the corridor to the engineering briefing room.
“Hey, Tearan, it’s Tovis again. Sorry for the third message but this is important. I’ve been down to the cargo hangar to check out what you said and you’re right about the size. I took a look at the wall and discovered something weird. That long wall you’re uncovering is a Q-Wall. Yeah, weird right? With the information Mykus gave us about the inhibitor being high end military hardware, this confirms military involvement. It’s probably just something benign like making rations taste nicer and I’m probably being unduly paranoid, but something about it feels sinister to me. Why the fuck have we four been left alone here on an apparently civilian ship that has military components and secretive Q-Wall technology? What was it they wanted to hide behind there? Think about it before you go busting through there. There could be some germs behind there that will kill us if we breathe them in. That might be what happened here, a breakout of some virus or something that killed everyone else but us. Maybe we’re immune. Anyway, think about it and get back to me okay?”
Tovis put down the recorder and sat down. His had ached and he felt nausea welling up inside. Deciding not to bother making a meal that he might not be able to keep down, he made his way towards the stairs. Hoping he would feel better after some sleep, he began to climb. He fell into bed and closed his eyes, never to open them again. There was no awareness of slipping from life to death, no painful gasping or regrets at what he failed to achieve. He simply stopped being.
The man with the pale eyes looked at his companion, Julian, who nodded in response. “So here we are again, Julian.”
“Yes, Sir. Everything is as you predicted.”
“How is M253016-143B?”
“Still within accepted parameters. Everything is as we hoped so far.”
“And the Limbic System, how are the readouts?”
“Emotions are high but the subject is coping fine at this time. Nothing to worry about yet.”
“Good. Let me know as soon as anything changes.”
“I will, Sir, sleep well.”
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12
Tearan ate his breakfast slowly, chewing and swallowing robotically, the flavours doing nothing to please his palate. Meat, once rich and mature, now caught in his throat as he forced down the tasteless mush. What were once delicate, subtle vegetables now lay in his mouth like straw as he fought the urge to gag. Thoughts raced around his head, the nightmares, the woman’s face, Tovis Kerral, and those laser pistol power cells. Worry creased his brow as he chewed and the more he dwelt on the thoughts, the worse he worried. He had not felt this unsettled since waking up with no memory other than his own name, and did not know what to do about it. There was no way to answer his questions other than to hope more memories came back. At least then he might identify the woman whose face haunted his dreams so. Tovis Kerral being a hired gun was not so much of a worry; it was more of a shock than anything else. The man had made contact freely enough and his voice carried a ring of authenticity that Tearan found himself trusting without a second thought. This last thought had his fork stop mid way between his plate and his mouth as he dwelt upon Tovis Kerral’s voice.
“I know that voice,” he whispered. “His voice is familiar. Where have I met him before?” The answers refused to come and he jabbed his temples in frustration. Tovis himself had not mentioned any similar feelings of familiarity in his message, so Tearan had to assume that either he was mistaken or Tovis did not share the feeling. He let his thoughts drift back over his years in the military and knew of a few ex-soldiers that were said to have become hired guns. Maybe Tovis had been a colleague in the early years of his service. Shaking his head in an effort to clear the fuzz that lay within his mind where he knew memories should be, he thumped a fist down onto the table. He closed his eyes and listened, extending his awareness as far throughout the ship as he was able. All around him the ship slept, the silent leviathan neither dead nor alive but kept in a state of permanent half sleep. Only those systems necessary for life were still working. Like a comatose animal, the lungs breathed and the heart pumped but everything else was asleep. Tearan, unable to wake the sleeping dragon, was forced to watch it sleep and listen to its breathing. And hope, there was always hope. There was little more than that and he felt reluctant to let it go just yet.
He listened to the silence and aching loneliness washed over him. He was sure he heard the empty air echoing along the corridors and bouncing from lofty ceilings. If there were three others aboard with him, why had none of them ever met each other? Why did they each ask the others to meet, but then not do so? What was keeping them from each other, and why? Tearan tried to expand his mind into all corners of the ship, probing for life, any life other than his own but found none. If he shared the ship with others, why did he feel so alone? Why did the ship feel so empty?
“I have to find the others before I go mad,” he moaned as he got up from the table and left the room without bothering to wash the dishes. Starting at the top of the ship, Tearan walked the corridors and rooms, floor by floor, yelling for the others by name as he went. By the time he found himself inside the hazardous waste store with a sore throat and headache, he knew he was in trouble. He had yelled himself hoarse in every room and corner of the ship, but not one of the others responded. This meant either they had not heard him, or they were ignoring him. Neither of these options delighted Tearan and he began to question himself.
“Maybe there are no others at all,” he muttered as he headed towards the stairs to climb back up to the security room on deck three. “Maybe they don’t exist and those messages are a hoax or a fabrication made up by my mind as it slowly goes mad.” When he reached deck four, on a whim he decided to go to the engineering briefing room and listen to all the recorded messages again. Picking up the recorder, he saw three new messages were waiting and raised his eyebrows.
“Hi, guys, Tovis here. Thanks, Mykus for taking a look at that inhibitor. That news does put a different face on things here doesn’t it? We need to think about this carefully now we know there’s a military connection, but this ship doesn’t look like a military vessel to me. I admit my experience of the military is somewhat limited though. Tearan, what do you think? Is this ship a military vessel? If not, then we have to wonder why a civilian ship would contain high end and possibly secret military components, how it obtained them, and for what purpose. We need to discuss whether that purpose has been fulfilled or not and what part we might be playing in it. What side are we on guys? We need to think about that too. Mykus, my feeling is that you should concentrate more on looking for more inhibitors or other obviously military involvement in the engineering side of things, rather than strictly on getting the ship going again. I suppose the two can go along in tandem for part of the way. If the military has been doing secret stuff, they might be planning to erase any evidence of their involvement. There could be bombs or devices attached to the engine that blow up when we try to fly the ship out of here or something. Maybe you should check that out first huh? Tearan, I’m going to go and take a look at decks seven and eight and check out your findings. I’ll help you gain access to that wall if I can. My only question about it is what if it was done because of damage to the outer hull or something? If those two decks suffered damage and decompressed, removing that wall could be dangerous and I can’t hold my breath for long enough to get up to deck six and close the emergency airlocks, even if you can. I don’t even know if there are any. Maybe I’ll take a look for some before doing anything else. Anyway, those are my thoughts, what do you think?”
Tearan listened to Tovis’s first message. He had a point; the ship was most definitely not built as a military vessel and did not look like a passenger liner either. It was not big enough for one thing, and the lack of facilities f
or passengers was another clue. Military vessels had mess halls, parade rooms, dormitories, armouries, lecture rooms, a brig, and a weapons system with big balls. Passenger liners had shops, beauty parlours, vidicom theatres, bars, restaurants, whorehouses, and all sorts of other delights to entertain the fee-paying masses. This crate had nothing of that nature and Tearan guessed it was either a freighter or some kind of research or exploration vessel. The military were obviously involved somehow, his presence here as a member of the Inter-Galactic Elite Command proved that, as did the inhibitor array. Exactly what their involvement was though, was a mystery Tearan had no idea how to explain. He agreed that it was probably sense for Mykus to concentrate on the search for more inhibitors or other unusual hardware that should not be there and the possibility of explosive devices was very real. If whatever the military were involved with was either illegal or sensitive, they would probably want to erase all evidence of it when it had served its purpose. He switched the recorder on to the second message and listened.
“Hi, it’s Tovis again, just over an hour later than my last message. I’ve been down to deck six to check out the emergency airlocks and found them. They’re set into grooves in the walls, ceilings and floors. I’ve been walking passed them without noticing them all this time. Maybe you guys already know this, but have you any idea how they operate? There is no obvious mechanism on the walls down there, so I’m guessing they’re either automatically triggered or manually engaged. Mykus, can you figure this out and let us know? If they’re triggered automatically, how long do we have to get back up the stairs? If they’re manual, where is the control and does it work? Also, if one of us should get stuck on the wrong side, can they be opened? The other thing is that I’ve seen the Doctor’s crazy rantings on the walls down there, and wow, that’s some creepy shit. I don’t feel comfortable knowing someone is around who has that kind of shit on their mind, do you? He could be anywhere aboard so I vote we take care wherever we go. Maybe we should meet up and only move around together until we can find him and restrain him if necessary. I would guess the security room offers us the most secure accommodations, so if we all hole up there and work as a team, we can ensure each other’s safety. How do you feel about that, guys? Until I hear back I will be on full alert, so remember that if you should come across me in a corridor. I’m armed and won’t hesitate to fire on anyone until I know you’re not a crazy hatchet murdering doctor who thinks the ship is haunted. I suggest you two do the same until we can team up.”
Tearan frowned as he listened. Tovis sounded as if he were getting a little off track and this was worrying. The man’s sudden preoccupation with safety suggested he was succumbing to the kind of fears that inhibit a man’s effectiveness. Tearan knew it was sensible to be conscious of safety, but anyone who had spent any time on board a space ship would have undergone at least a basic safety lecture before take-off. Even passenger liners are required to give them and Tearan knew Tovis should have realised that decompression would have triggered the emergency airlocks. The fact that they had not been triggered indicated that no decompression had taken place beyond the false wall. This was spaceship safety 101 and Tovis’s lack of common sense enough to realise it, was a worry Tearan did not need. A hired gun on full alert, armed to the teeth and willing to kill was not a prospect he relished. With a heavy heart, he listened to the third message.
“Hey, Tearan, it’s Tovis again. Sorry for the third message but this is important. I’ve been down to the cargo hangar to check out what you said and you’re right about the size. I took a look at the wall and discovered something weird. That long wall you’re uncovering is a Q-Wall. Yeah, weird right? With the information Mykus gave us about the inhibitor being high end military hardware, this confirms military involvement. It’s probably just something benign like making rations taste nicer and I’m probably being unduly paranoid, but something about it feels sinister to me. Why the fuck have we four been left alone here on an apparently civilian ship that has military components and secretive Q-Wall technology? What was it they wanted to hide behind there? Think about it before you go busting through there. There could be some germs behind there that will kill us if we breathe them in. That might be what happened here, a breakout of some virus or something that killed everyone else but us. Maybe we’re immune. Anyway, think about it and get back to me okay?”
“What the fuck?” Tearan said aloud, his mind immediately alert. Tovis had gone from a potential problem to the bearer of interesting and useful information and Tearan was grateful. This news was easily the last thing he would have expected to hear and it certainly did take things to a whole new level of weirdness. “Hell yeah that’s weird all right. Q-Wall? What the fuck do they want with that on board this crate?” He agreed with Tovis completely, the whole business now felt entirely sinister and he was not sure how he should proceed. As a soldier, his duty was to upkeep military rules and those of the Inter-Galactic Elite Command were slightly different to those of the regular military. Keeping secrets was what the IGEC was all about, the fact that something covert might be going on aboard the ship did not bother him. Military secrets did not worry Tearan, that was his job and his life. No, what bothered him was the existence of secrets that had not been shared with him, a member of the most secretive military unit in the galaxy. Whatever those secrets were, Tearan knew it went beyond making rations taste nicer. His mind working overtime, he recorded a reply, the excitement evident in his voice.
“Hi, guys, Tearan here. Tovis, are you sure about that Q-Wall thing? If you’re right, it gives this whole operation a totally new face, one that will make me feel more than a little uncomfortable. It worries me that as a member of the Inter-Galactic Elite Command, I know nothing about it. Maybe I was told but can’t remember. Perhaps those memories still haven’t returned. It’s equally possible that I wasn’t told at all, which makes the level of secrecy worryingly high. Having only just heard your message a couple of minutes ago, I haven’t yet had time to figure out how this changes our plans, or even if it should. This is so fucked up I get a headache just trying to understand it all. I thought it was maybe pirates or something, an engine failure perhaps. I hoped we just had to get the word out and wait for rescue. Now things are so weird I’m beginning to think I’m going crazy. Despite all of us asking to meet up, we never do and I’ve just been over every inch of this crate and yelled my head off. Either you’re all deaf, you’re ignoring me, or you don’t exist. There are no more messages from Doctor Arma and there’s all that crazy stuff down in the medical bay about ghosts and bodies. We’re all having nightmares and I for one keep thinking I see shadows moving around but when I look, there’s no one there. I heard a massive crash in the security room and when I rushed out to look, there was no damage but some scratches have appeared on the floor. There’s the time discrepancies too. Remember when you found that inhibitor array, Tovis? I recorded my message before Mykus and it was definitely not on the table. Mykus did his message after mine, but he made a point of saying he’d only just found it. How can that happen? I know it wasn’t there, I’m not going crazy. I don’t like the way this business is making me doubt myself. All I know is that I’m Tearan Lindo, I’m a soldier with the IGEC and I’m from Arlenika Prime. No matter what happens here, those are unalterable facts. Mykus, I agree that it is probably best that you concentrate on looking for inhibitors and any other stuff that you feel shouldn’t be there and remove it if you can do so without blowing us all to oblivion. I don’t know how this Q-Wall business affects us, but I have to get into whatever empty space is hidden down there. I have to know, I just have to. You’re welcome to join me if you want.”
Tearan closed his eyes as he replaced the recorder on the counter and acknowledged all the questions racing around his mind. Why was he here in this crazy situation? What series of random events trapped him within this nightmare? Had he chosen to be here but was unable to remember why? Was he right to feel as unsettled as he now did as he leaned his backside against
the edge of the briefing room table and rubbed his eyes. It was now hours since he ate breakfast and he would normally be making himself a snack, but he had lost his appetite and decided to wander the corridors to think. He found it easier to concentrate the mind whilst walking. Sitting and relaxing tended to encourage his mind to wander, whereas the exercise of walking made the act of disciplining his mind, easier.
At one point, he found himself in the Senior Officers’ Observation Lounge on deck two and stared out at the inky void. Points of light from distant stars made him feel trapped and lonely in this strangely becalmed hulk and he hugged himself. It was a vain attempt to find some comfort, which did nothing to quell the chill of fear that gripped his insides with icy fingers. He was no longer a man, a serving soldier fighting for the liberty of others for the common good. Now it was his own freedom he feared lost and the fight to regain it felt insurmountable. The incongruities of the situation added up to one extremely weird experience and Tearan begged for it to stop.
“I want to enjoy my life and work hard, to do things few others get to do, and have a laugh with my friends. Is that too much to ask? I don’t want to have amnesia and speak to people I can’t see and who I can never find anywhere on board. I’ll go mad if I’m trapped here for the rest of my life.” Tearan did not know whether he felt anger or self pity, but had to admit that whatever his feelings were, he was not enjoying them. With a growl of frustration, he thumped a fist onto the table before getting up and heading down the corridor to the stairs. Downstairs, he washed the dishes from his breakfast and wondered what to do to fill in the endless days that might possibly lie ahead. Until a few hours ago he was fired up with enthusiasm for clearing the cargo hangar to get access to the wall he believed hid a secret room. Thanks to the information given to him by Tovis, the knowledge that it was a Q-Wall that divided the room sapped his energy for the task.