by Joshua James
Ben took another moment to consider the vileness of what had happened in the docking bay. “We need to find some answers,” Ben said. “Like what the hell happened here.”
“And what the hell happened out there,” Morgan said, pointing back out of the dock. “We just saw a dreadnought get swallowed up in space.”
“Whatever we find out,” Ben said, “I’ve got a feeling we’ll want to be able to get outta here fast. How’s the ship?”
Morgan scratched her chin and started to look around the side of the Lost, running her hand along the hull plating. “I don’t think it’s as bad as it looks.”
“Good,” Ace said. “Because it looks like a tin can full of holes.”
“Lemme see what I can do,” Morgan said.
Ben nodded. “Ace and I will go exploring, see if we can find any survivors that can explain … all this. Any problems, just raise me on my HUD.”
Ace reached down to his pile of weapons and grabbed a handgun that he put in his shoulder holster. “Just in case we run into whatever did all this.”
It was a fair point. Ben grabbed another gun too.
“For the record, if there’s any problems I’m getting the hell out of here,” Morgan said.
“Yeah, once you get that bucket flying again,” Ace snorted.
“In the meantime, reprogram your police robot friends to watch my six,” Morgan said.
Ben looked at Ace. “Can you do that?”
Ace nodded. “No problemo.”
After several minutes that proved it was a little more than ‘no problemo,’ Ace finally got one of the bots reprogrammed. He and Ben took the other one as they headed through the docking bay exit.
“This is pretty gruesome,” said Ben as he and Ace entered the main corridor. They very quickly discovered that the dead station residents weren’t just confined to the docking bay. They were everywhere.
“Smells terrible,” said Ace. “And I can’t smell anything, but still…smells horrible.”
“I know. Let’s just keep moving.”
Seriously. What happened here? It’s like a real-life horror movie. I’ve seen dead people before, but this …
Ben stepped over and around the dead. There were men, women, and children. Whatever had done this to them hadn’t discriminated. They were equal-opportunity mass murderers.
“I don’t know what we’re hoping to find in here. Looks like a graveyard minus the graves.”
Ben focused on the task at hand. His HUD accessed the station map. According to it, there was a stairwell that led from engineering to the residential, then the commercial levels. He’d check those first and figure out where to go from there.
Ace and Ben passed a room labeled as the engineering armory. They reached a room which, according to the map, was the electrical engineer’s office. That one caught Ben’s attention.
“Hey, take a look at this.” He saw a hand sticking out of office’s wedged-open door. It was gnarled, twisted, vaguely human but, at the same time, clearly not.
“What about it? Looks like some poor bastard got barbecued.” Ace looked at the hand and the smoke coming out of the cracked-open door, and apparently thought nothing of it.
Ben wasn’t so sure. He poked at the hand-like thing with his rifle. It fell off, landed on the floor and disintegrated into nothingness.
“Okay, that’s weird,” Ace said. “That’s a lot weird. You think that was …” He left his sentence hanging.
Ben shrugged. “I don’t know what the hell we’re dealing with here.”
“I was really hoping to go my whole life without running into any actual damn aliens.”
“I was hoping to spend my whole life on a beach on Taras-3, sipping daiquiris,” Ben said. “But we don’t all get what we want. C’mon, I think I see the stairs. We got to go up a floor.”
Both Ben and Ace threw up immediately upon opening the doors to the stairs. The smell of all that death overwhelmed them. Ben couldn’t even keep the door open, he retched so hard. Neither of them had been expecting that.
“How many dudes are in there?” asked Ace, wiping his mouth, eyes watering.
“I don’t—” Ben threw up again.
“Do we have to take the stairs?” Ace asked. “Anything has to be better than a stairwell filled with dead bodies stacked three high.”
“I want to get to the residential floor,” Ben said. “That’s our best chance to find someone still alive.”
Ace glanced over. “I’m guessing the elevators don’t work.”
Ben shook his head. “And the only other stairwell is on the other side of the station. We don’t have a choice.”
“Shit,” Ace said. “Fine,” he said, psyching himself up. “Let’s do it.”
They opened the door to the stairwell again and started climbing.
As soon as they made the first turn on the staircase, they heard talking coming from a couple flights above them.
Ace looked like he was about to yell when Ben slapped him in the chest and put his finger to his mouth.
Ace frowned and shrugged, like he was asking Ben what the big deal was. And Ben honestly couldn’t say, but he wanted to hear what they were saying first.
The voices grew louder. They were coming down the stairs. Ace and Ben took up positions on either side of the stairwell.
Two bald men in robes turned the corner. They were walking nonchalantly over the corpses, reciting some nonsense about embracing the abyss and sprinkling some liquid on the bodies.
One of the two looked up in surprise at Ace.
“Why, hello!” he said cheerfully, as if finding someone standing in the midst of the ghoulish scene was something he’d expected to happen. “Have you heard the good word of the Abyss? Let us help you in your trans—”
Ace cut off him off with a superheated high-speed round straight through the center of his forehead.
The other robed man looked terrified and froze. He turned to run, but Ben wasn’t having any of that.
“Oh no you don’t, pal.” Ben stumbled as he tried to climb up over the bodies after him. It would’ve been a comical sight if the setting wasn’t so horrendous. Finally he grabbed hold of the cultist’s arm with his own metallic, robotic one. It had no problem maintaining an unbreakable grip.
“I…I didn’t do anything,” the man said.
Ben looked around, feet still slipping on dead people. “Well, somebody did. You’re coming with us…what’s your name?”
“There’s no need for names once you’re one with the Abyss,” answered the cultist in a shaky, scared voice.
“Well, I’m gonna call you Bob. What say we get out of this stairwell, Bob?”
Twenty-Seven
Ben, Ace, and Bob climbed out of the stairwell on the residential level. Ben and Ace happily took a minute to take in that relatively fresh recycled air. Bob just looked terrified.
“What happened here, Bob?” asked Ben as the trio slowly walked through the halls of the residential level. The halls were lit up red by emergency lighting, making any blood look like water.
“I don’t know.”
Ace punched Bob in the back of the head. “Try again, Bob.”
“I…our saviors, all of our saviors have arrived. They’ve come to usher in a new peaceful, united world.”
“This look peaceful to you, Bob?” asked Ace. Though it wasn’t as bad as the docking bay and certainly not as bad as the stairwell, they still passed the occasional dead station occupant on the residential level.
“The spilling of blood is necessary for the transition.”
“Let’s go one at a time here, Bobby. First, who are the saviors?” Ben stopped and peeked inside the open door of one of the apartments. There didn’t appear to be anything there, so he moved on.
“They come from the stars, from deep space. In our texts we call them the Shapeless. But that’s just a temporary name, before they become what they are meant to be.” Bob trembled as he walked and talked, with Ace hot on his heel
s. Ben could tell Ace was salivating at the thought of killing the cultist, and didn’t blame him. If he were honest, he wanted to as well. But they needed information more than revenge right now.
“The Shapeless, huh? Why do you call them that?” asked Ben.
“Because they’re shapeshifters. They have no set form, their bodies—goodness, they’re wonderful, they can become whatever or whoever they want, down to their very DNA. It’s fascinating, really.”
“Yeah, really fascinating,” said Ace icily.
“What are they meant to be, Bob?” Ben was listening, but he also kept his eyes forward and alert, looking for any threats.
“Us. They’re meant to become us and create a new humanity, one free of war, racism, greed, poverty, and hunger. They will make humankind wonderful once more.”
“How exactly would they do that?”
“It’s hard to explain.”
“Try,” insisted Ace as he poked his rifle into Bob’s back.
“Yes, they’ll kill our physical bodies, but those aren’t important. Our souls will go to the Abyss, the same Abyss that they come from. The Shapeless will sacrifice their own nirvana by taking the forms of our physical selves as we get purified by the cold deep dark of space. Once we’re ready, we too will be granted their same bodies in return; we will become the Shapeless ourselves.” Bob’s voice changed as he described this part. It properly conveyed how batshit crazy the Oblivion cultist’s beliefs were.
“So let me get this straight,” Ace said. “They kill us, human beings. Take our forms. Our ‘souls’ get evicted out into space, and eventually we become the Shapeless, only to what? Do the same to some other species?”
“Exactly!” Bob enthusiastically confirmed.
“All I see is pure slaughter,” Ben said solemnly. “Nothing more, nothing less. Killing for the sake of killing. I’m willing to bet these ‘saviors’ of yours are simply in the business of genocide.”
“Ding, ding, ding,” Ace said.
“You don’t understand,” Bob said. “They don’t just kill. They become you. Though your soul exists, your body, your memories don’t. And what are memories other than a blueprint for what a person is?” He was going into full babbling psycho mode.
“That’s all really interesting, Bob, but why don’t you tell us where we can find any survivors?” Ben asked. “Or maybe an escape shuttle.”
“Or anything other than some complete cultist babbling nonsense,” Ace said. “Otherwise, what’s to stop us from putting a bullet in you?”
“Survivors?” Bob asked, genuinely curious. “You mean those who haven’t transitioned yet?”
“Yeah, Bob,” Ben said. “That’s called a survivor.”
“Very few,” Bob said, “and I couldn’t say where. Those remaining are being collected.”
Ben didn’t like all the euphemisms. “Captured” was collected. “Killed” was transitioned. It made him sick to his stomach. “And an escape shuttle?” he asked.
“We’re going with our saviors when they leave. They promised they’d take us with them.”
Ben stopped. He turned, gun pointed at Bob’s head. “Take you with them where?”
“Vassar-1, of course,” Bob said. “That’s where it’s going to begin.”
Ben looked at Ace. He shrugged back. It was news to him, too. “Why Vassar-1?” Ben asked.
“We don’t question the saviors. They’ve chosen to replace the populace there. We have other Oblivion members there, waiting for our signal and for us to arrive.”
Ace hit Bob in the back with butt of his rifle. He crumpled to the ground.
“What the hell, Ace?” Ben asked, reaching down to grab the cultist, who looked dazed but not knocked out. “We’re finally getting some answers.”
“I can’t stand listening to this piece of garbage! He’s selling out his own species!”
With Ben’s help, Bob stood on unsteady legs. “Sell them out? No! We’re saving them!”
Ben was about to ask more about the Vassar-1 plan when a blast door popped open just ahead.
Out of nowhere, what looked to be a teenage girl ran out from one of the apartments about thirty yards away down the hall. Ben couldn’t believe his eyes at first. The sweaty girl looked around, panicked, and froze when she saw Ben.
“No, no, no! Stay away from me!” The girl had a gun in her hand and pointed it vaguely in their direction.
“Whoa there! Calm down. We aren’t here to hurt you!” Ben tried to reassure the teen. He put his rifle down, knowing Ace still had his concealed behind the cultist.
“How d-d-do I know that? How do I k-k-know that you’re not one of those things?” The gun shook in her unsteady hands.
“You see this guy here?” asked Ace, shoving Bob forward.
“Yeah?”
“Know what he is?”
She focused on the robed man for a split second. “Yeah, he’s one of those Oblivion creeps.”
“Tell her, Bob,” Ace said. “Tell her what you told us about those Shapeless things.”
“Ummm, well, they’re here to save us. We called, and they came to free us from our—”
Ace shot him in the back of the head. Blood splattered back on Ben’s chest as the cultist stumbled forward and landed face-first on the ground in front of them.
“That proof enough that we ain’t some of those monsters?” asked Ace.
The teen looked confused. “No! That’s not…is that supposed to prove I can trust you?”
Ace seemed to mull that over. “I mean, yeah,” he said at last, as if the logic of the situation failed him.
“Listen,” Ben said, trying to ignore the blood splattered on the front of his shirt. “I’m here looking for Captain Lee Saito. He’s a UEF officer from the super-dreadnought Atlas. We have reason to believe the ship came here, to this station.” Ben paused as the girl’s mouth fell open. She looked like she was in shock. “Does any of that make sense to you?” he asked.
The teen lowered her gun. “Captain Saito?”
“Yes! Do you know him?”
She still seemed shocked. “No, I never met him,” she said. “I mean, not really. At least not the real him.”
Not the real him? Ben wondered.
“But the others did.”
Now it was Ben’s turn to be shocked. “There are others? Others who might know my father?”
She cocked her head. “Your father?”
“My name is Ben Saito.” He kept his empty hands up. “What’s your name?”
“Francesca,” answered the teen.
“Francesca, what did you mean by the others? Are there survivors from the Atlas?”
Francesca nodded.
“Are they with you? Are they still alive?”
“They’re not with me, no. They left.”
“They left? Where did they go, Francesca?”
She looked scared now. “To get weapons,” she whispered. “But they didn’t come back.”
Twenty-Eight
“Ready?” asked Tomas. He held his flamethrower and turned on the gas-fed flames. One pull of the trigger, and it would spew out fiery death.
“No,” answered Tanisha. She hugged the wall next to Tomas. Her grip kept loosening, then re-tightening, around her cold-cast gun.
“Yes,” answered Ada, still a little groggy from her injuries. The stim shot was wearing off. She brought up the rear.
Around the corner from that wall was the main cafeteria on the commercial level. That was where the monster posing as Saito wanted any survivors on board to gather and find “peace.” That was where Ada wanted to ambush and kill it, and however many other Shapeless were there. From the screeches they heard, there must’ve been a lot.
“On three,” said Tomas. “One, two, three!”
Tomas was the first around the corner. He was ready to start spraying flames, but was surprised to see what looked like people, not monsters. It took him by surprise so much that he didn’t know what to do.
Tani
sha was next. Her gaze immediately focused on the Shapeless who’d posed as kids. There were quite a few, maybe six or seven. They made her think of her own kids, back home on Mars. She couldn’t imagine hitting them with extreme cold and shattering their little bodies. All logic was out the window.
“Are you here for salvation?” asked one of the female Shapeless.
Ada turned the corner and started shooting literal fire at the Shapeless. She didn’t have the same hesitation the others had. She knew exactly what she was looking at.
“They aren’t human!” she screamed as she mashed down the connection circuit on the flame torch she’d fashioned from one of the workbenches in engineering. The flames lit her face in an eerie red hue as she screamed, spittle running down her chin. “They aren’t human!”
Immediately the Shapeless started to screech and cry out in their death throes as the torch burned them. Tomas joined the vengeance by canvassing the whole open area with flames as well. Tanisha just watched, partially disgusted but also scared. She watched as the creatures changed shapes, writhed, and became things so far from human they were impossible to recognize.
Suddenly, a piercing siren cut through the sound of the screeching creatures in front of them.
Ada had no idea what it meant; at least, not at first. It wasn’t until it was too late and half-inch-thick steel shutters came down from all open sides of the cafeteria that she realized what was happening.
They were locked in with the writhing creatures in front of them.
“It’s a trap!” yelled out Tomas.
“Yeah, no shit,” Ada said, looking around. “Let’s find a way out of here before we burn to death.”
As if on cue, the cafeteria’s fire safety system turned on, blasting the whole area with flame-retardant foam that put out every fire.
“Well…at least we’re not going to burn to death,” Tanisha said.
“We might wish we had,” Ada said. “We got incoming.”
Something was oozing through the vents on the ceiling. A couple of the vents fell off. Shapeless began jumping down from them.
Jumping was a generous interpretation. It was more like they were falling, one on top of another, slapping against the ground with wet thuds, then rising and reforming as human-shaped things.