by Greig Beck
In fifteen minutes, the trolley was laden with parts, electronics, and tools, from wrenches to circuit boards and soldering equipment.
McCarthy checked it over. “That should do for round one.”
“Okay, let’s get to work.” Sam pushed the trolley, and McCarthy hefted a canvas bag that contained tools.
They headed to the elevator. The trolley just fit inside next to McCarthy and the huge frame of Sam bolstered by his armor.
As they arrived at the lower level, Sam eased out and paused. “Stay behind me,” he said and used the suit’s sensors to gauge the territory ahead.
There shouldn’t have been people on this level, so anyone suddenly appearing was to be regarded as a potential hostile. Sam now knew what it took to defeat this thing, but better if he wasn’t stuck in a narrow corridor if he had to use thermal rounds, or close to McCarthy if he needed to discharge a shock pulse.
He snorted softly. That was the thing about ambushes – they came at you at the worst time, the worst place, and usually when you were at your most vulnerable. That’s what made the best ones successful.
They continued on to the communications room, and Sam opened the door, and leaned in for a moment, scanning the interior.
“No one here but us mice,” he said and entered.
McCarthy sighed as he approached the devastated communication unit. “Someone really did a job on this.”
“Yeah, they knew exactly what they were doing.” Sam looked about. “You know, they could also have damaged the air and power, and that would have wiped everyone out real quick, but whatever it is chose not to.”
“Maybe the creature just hadn’t thought of that yet,” McCarthy replied.
“Nah, it was just buying time. Or maybe it just wants its meat to stay fresh.” He turned to McCarthy and grinned.
“Yeah, thanks, Sam, that makes me feel so much better.” McCarthy shook his head. “Okay, let’s see what we’ve got here.”
Sam watched as the man worked. He was impressed with his expertize and artistry. The guy was the chief designer of the base, and knew everything about its construction, design, components, and maintenance. But he also knew how to get hands-on, and weld, hammer, and shape the delicate parts he needed. Sam enjoyed the work the man was doing as if he was watching an artisan. In fact, he was learning as he watched, because he was witnessing things that were revolutionary in skill and design.
McCarthy wore magnifying goggles when using a soldering iron to replot a circuit board with pinpoint precision. “Anything done can be undone,” he said as he worked. He gently blew on the cooling solder and lifted his goggles to examine his work. “Looking good.” He slotted the board back into the drive and began work on the next.
Sam lifted his gaze from the minutiae of the work and scanned the room. At least the comms room wasn’t like the central power room that housed the generators and oxygen supply. The memory of that, with its glistening stickiness like plant sap, or something extruded from the ass of a bug, still freaked him out a little. Whatever the lifeform was, it couldn’t have created a more alien-looking place if H.R. Giger himself had designed it.
“How much longer?” Sam asked.
McCarthy shrugged. “An hour to get it back together. Then we need to test it and see if we have signal strength. Maybe more time for some readjustments.” He looked up. “Call it two hours.”
“Good work.” Sam engaged his suit visor. Immediately a readout image appeared in the glass on the bottom left reading the atmosphere conditions, and scanning for movement, and heat sources.
And then it found one – at the rear. Small, but Sam was sure it wasn’t there before.
“Just going to do a quick circuit of the comms room,” Sam said, not wanting to distract the master engineer.
“Okay. I’ll be here.” McCarthy reapplied his goggles and went back to work.
Sam saw that his sensors had picked up a tiny heat bloom – not the size of a human, but smaller, like the temperature signature of a small dog or cat – which definitely didn’t exist on the base. He followed it to the far end of the room where the processor racks, plus generator, and signal boosters were. The place hummed with power, and he knew that it probably gave off a small hint of ozone.
The background temperature here was already slightly above normal due to the electronics, so the heat bloom had to be something above standard range.
Sam eased his head around the first rack, and then edged in to see behind the next – nothing. He moved a little further along the wall and noticed that the heat bloom was gone.
What the hell?
He turned, and his sensors picked up the bloom again – this time near the door. If he didn’t know better, he’d say it was a damn large rat scurrying around the room.
He headed for the door, and just as he got within a few feet of the frame, the door whooshed open – initiated from outside – and a figure stood there, its helmet on and glare visor down over its face.
It lifted a burner and let loose a gout of flame over him. Sam instinctively held an arm up, but with his visor down, the HAWC armor wasn’t troubled by the heat at all.
The figure dropped the welding tool, turned, and ran.
“The hell you will.” Sam half-turned. “Close the door and lock it!” he yelled to McCarthy then sprinted after the person, wondering whether this was a saboteur, or the mimic thing. Either way he was confident of catching them, but he knew using the incendiary rounds would be impossible inside and he could only use the shock disks or suit pulse if he got close.
But he also remembered what Alex told him about the neurotoxin darts – they were just as effective. Poison it was then.
Party time, he thought, eager to get some payback for Vin. He drew out the toxin dart stick and accelerated, using his internal MEC technology to assist his bulk, but the person was like a jackrabbit, and went around the next corridor like a sprinter.
Sam was moving at close to forty miles per hour and closing in on the figure – just a dozen or so feet now. When Sam followed it around the corner, he found himself in another corridor, and alone.
“What the fuck?”
There was a single door halfway up and he crossed to it and pushed the button. It shushed open, and he glanced in before pulling back. Nothing jumped out at him, and his sensors picked up no movement nor any heat source.
He leaned around again, and saw it was the good old janitor’s cleaning closet – he snorted – they had ’em even on the moon.
Sam turned back to the corridor. It was empty, and he jogged along it to the end. It finished at a console with a touch screen, but nothing else.
He moved quickly to the side room again. For the first time, he noticed the small dots of the base cameras above him had been coated in the sticky amber extrusion he had seen in the base’s power generation room. It was obvious: someone or something wanted them blinded. Sam turned slowly. And then it hit him – something also wanted to lure him from the comms room.
Ah, shit no. Sam put his head down and ran faster than he had ever moved in his life. His huge feet pounded on the ground, shaking the corridor, and he went around the corners so fast, he collided with one of the walls, damaging some the tiles.
As he approached the comms room, he immediately saw it. The door was open.
“No, no, no.”
He lifted the toxin stick and slowed at the doorframe. Then Sam went inside and did a quick circuit before coming back to where McCarthy had been working.
His shoulders slumped. Everything the man had been doing was smashed. Plus, there was a mound of light armor on the floor, with McCarthy’s nametag on it. But that was all.
Sam screwed his eyes shut for a moment. Then he pressed the comm. stud on his helmet.
“Boss.” He sighed. “We lost McCarthy.”
Alex’s roar went right through his head. “What happened?” Alex asked after he recovered, and it sounded like the furious words came through gritted teeth.
Sam
tilted his head back, his eyes shut. “I fucked up.”
CHAPTER 44
Casey paced in the small room while Doctor Marion Martin hunched over her microscope. The female HAWC felt wound tighter than a spring and hated that they potentially had a deadly adversary – or adversaries – hiding within the base, but one that refused to show itself and allow them to take it head on.
She was right on the edge and working hard to keep herself in check. But following Vin’s death, that was becoming harder by the minute.
Marion leaned back from the scope and rubbed her face, hard. “It’s not working,” she said softly as she stared over the top of the eyepiece.
Casey lifted her chin. “Don’t tell us that, doc.”
Marion sighed. “Doctor Pandewahanna believed that this creature is some sort of evolved or mutated form of fungi. But the human physiology has been dealing with fungus for millions of years, so we have an immune reaction.”
“That means we already have some sort of defense against this thing, right?” Klara moved a little closer.
“Yes and no. It means that our system reacts. Or at least Olga’s did. Hers produced antibodies. It didn’t mean the human physiology could deal with it. It just means our system tries to defend itself, but gets quickly overwhelmed.”
“Just like a disease,” Casey said. “A giant germ that infects people and then takes them over.”
Marion bobbed her head for a moment. “Sort of. I think the initial attack is physical. But as it remakes or copies our bodies, it has to copy everything, from the hair, to the brain, to the lymphatic system, and also the immune system. It co-opts our bodies and hides within us and then controls us – the true puppet master.” She breathed. “Then we are just shells – nothing more than a disguise.”
“But our bodies can tell,” Klara asked. “Can’t they?”
“That’s what Doctor Pandewahanna thought,” Marion replied. “Our bodies try and expel the invader hiding within them. They thinks it’s a form of fungal infection and therefore produces antibodies for it. She expected that people who are infected have this antibody in their system.”
“That is good, isn’t it? So we can produce a cure?” Klara said.
“No, they’re gone, and not people at all anymore.” Marion’s brows came together. “But she never got to test it. I just ran a sample test with my own blood, infected it, and it produced the antibodies …”
“Right, then that’ll at least tell us who we need to burn.” Casey’s eyes were dead level.
“Nope.” Marion turned away. “The fragments disappeared quickly, and my blood seemed normal. They were perfect copies, but not human anymore.”
“So, it’s useless.” Casey shook her head and turned way. “And we’re back to freaking square one.”
* * *
“You had one damn job, Reid.” Alex glared up at the huge man.
Sam stood with his head bowed.
“You remember me saying that getting the comms working was our priority?” Alex waited.
Sam nodded. “I thought … there was an intruder. They attacked. I thought it was the missing Russian woman.”
“It was a damn decoy. Designed to draw you away, so it could destroy the work being done, and take out our best engineering asset.” Alex looked skyward for a moment, his fists balled. But then his anger with Sam turned back on himself. He shook his head.
“It’s my fault. Of course the thing would try and stop us getting our comms back on. I should have foreseen it.”
“No, Boss. I underestimated it.” Sam lifted his head. “I left my position.”
“It’s done.” Alex tried to think through his next steps, then turned back to Sam. “Comms is still the priority. If McCarthy had never come with us, I’ll give you one guess who I would have sent to do the work.”
Sam nodded. “Say the word.”
“Do it.” Alex turned to Roy Maddock. “You go with him. And no one leaves until the work is done and secured, clear?”
“HUA.”
The two enormous armored HAWCs headed off.
Alex’s comms pinged. “Hunter.”
“Boss, we got news on the test,” Casey said.
“I’m on my way.” Alex turned to Briggs. “You hold the fort.”
* * *
Mia stood close to Briggs and turned to frown after the departing HAWC. “He shouldn’t be going by himself.”
The base commander snorted. “Yeah, like I can tell that guy what to do.”
“I should go with him.” She put her hands on her hips.
“No, Mia, we’re supposed to stay together.” Briggs pointed at her chest. “And that means everyone.”
“I’m not going to sit on my ass when I could be helping. Especially not while that Russian creature is still on the loose.” She pushed his finger way. “I know more about this thing, Olga, than anyone, so I can damn help. You know that.”
“Mia,” Briggs pleaded.
The grin split her face, and she reached forward to pat his cheek. “Thanks, Tom.”
She was out the door before he could change his mind or call her back.
* * *
“She was quite brilliant,” Marion said. “But wrong.”
Alex stared down at the computer screen showing the results of the work the former base doctor had been doing.
“See this?” Marion pointed at the screen. “In those samples she recovered of the black material she found residue remains of human cells in among a lot of unidentifiable organic matter.”
“We knew that,” Alex said. “This thing absorbs, ingests, or whatever it does, but ends up taking over human bodies. What’s left over after the process is the excretion.”
“It takes over, yes, but that’s just it – it does an astounding job at mimicry. Unlike anything known on Earth. Many creatures can alter their form to look like something else – the hoverfly wears the colors and shape of a bee to try and scare off predators. A species of spider has evolved to look like an ant, its favorite prey. And best of all is the mimic octopus, which can change its shape to copy fish, crabs, jellyfish, and many other species, to hide or so it can get within striking distance of its target prey.”
“Sounds familiar,” Casey sneered as she leaned against the wall. “A damn body able to use mimicry, and high intelligence, which means this thing not only looks like us, but acts like us.” Her jaw clenched for a moment. “Good enough to fool us.”
“Fool us is an understatement. It doesn’t just act like us, but it actually becomes us,” Marion said. “A perfect copy. That could fool anyone.”
“Like it did to Vin.” Alex straightened. “But there’s something else. When we encountered Eric Wilson on the moon surface he was infected. But for a while I don’t think he realized it. He didn’t know what was happening to him even though he wasn’t human anymore.”
“Hmm, yes, possible.” Marion nodded and turned back to the screen. “Doctor Pandewahanna hypothesized that this creature tears us down and rebuilds us. Remakes us using much of its own physical scaffolding. It copies our bones, flesh, hair, teeth almost immediately. And it definitely co-opts our minds and memories, using our neural architecture as a library to draw on.” She shrugged. “I don’t know, maybe the first time it copied a human it took longer to learn us. But now I think it can do it in seconds.”
“That is not good,” Klara muttered.
“No shit,” Casey added, causing Klara to glare.
Marion went on: “Doctor Pandewahanna also hypothesized that the key flaw in the mimic’s modus operandi was that it still retained some of the body’s architecture – namely, its blood – to act as an internal food source, oxygenator, and chemical message carrier.”
Alex smiled. “But with it also came an immune system.”
“Correct. Doctor Pandewahanna found the antibody fragments in Olga’s blood samples for the parasitic pathogenic fungi. But of course, there is no pathogenic fungi, just our immune system thinking there was.”
/> “So, we find that in someone’s blood, we know they’re not who they say they are,” Alex said. “So why don’t you look happy?”
“I tried it with my own blood; the fragments appear for seconds, and then they too vanish.” She shrugged. “I don’t have a pure sample of Olga’s blood, they’re all gone. I just have Doctor Pandewahanna’s notes.”
“The thing either got smarter, or better at copying us,” Casey said. “We got nothing.”
“Olga must be our patient zero, the carrier,” Klara added.
“We’ve got to find where she’s hiding,” Alex said. “Until we do, or create a test, no one goes home.”
Casey started to laugh. “Come for a week they said, it’ll be cool they said.” Her grin fell away. “Fuck the moon.”
CHAPTER 45
“I don’t know what I’m missing here,” Sam said. “It should work.”
Roy Maddock looked over his shoulder at the mass of wires, circuitry, and cables. “Don’t ask me for help, you’re the tech brains. I’m only here for my looks.”
Sam shook his head. “I’m a tradesman, Angus was the artist. I’ve tried to duplicate everything he was doing, and I’ve unit tested the individual components and they all seem to be communicating with each other. It’s just not getting enough power to generate a signal any further than this room.”
Maddock leaned around him. “You rebuilt everything?”
Sam nodded as he stared down at his work. “Yep. And the dashboard says it’s all online and passing data, and the signal initiation infrastructure is all there …” He cursed. “So why no freaking signal?”
“So, it works, but it just doesn’t have enough signal strength?”
Sam put his hands on his hips and shook his head as he stared. “This tech should be able to blast a signal to damn Mars and back. But so far I’ve got about as much signal power as a crystal radio set.”