They professionally did the mining operations. It was hard for anyone to plot anything when Europe’s finest breakers and mercenaries were guarding with zeal and attention. If there was one thing that stood out in the day, it was the ASEAN Pirates that had mixed with the remaining African States being blown to pieces when they tried to attack the vessel that separated from the mining fleet, not knowing that the one inside was a group of suppressers. Gunned them down without consulting the officials.
Gaston checked up on the affair and had them write it off as a self-defense accident, considering that they tried to shoot a rocket-propelled grenade on them, not knowing that the hulls of their vessel was enough to take a concentrated fire from any biomass entity. It was not a pretty sight to see, but was an expected sight.
Most of the breakers handle the type-class monsters who could hear machines. The oceans have become dangerous, with mutation turning the creatures into bigger creatures that could break any normal sea-faring ship. Oil and gas are expensive, though thankfully not scarce enough to be a problem. The breakthrough of salt water being used as energy, keeps most of the cities and coastline areas powered.
Gaston had left the port and boarded the lab-ship that was monitoring the operations. In the laboratory, Gaston next to a case of ampoules, observing the extracts that they got from the biomass entities that were swimming in. The problem associated with the split-realm jumping was the coordinates that could go either way. Most of the time, the jumpers would end up dead or stuck underground. The unfortunate ones get trapped under solid rock and concrete, and not even their breaker abilities could get them out. The jumpers who appear dead or scattered, floating on the seas, would make one think about the amount of them.
There are various theories where the alien creatures come from. Some say that they are an anomaly that spilled out of an alternate dimension, while the rest think that there is a tunnel that connects earth to another place in the galaxy that allows these creatures to enter earth.
A double-edged blessing that gave the world a better understanding of what may happen and the things that the world should look out for in the coming days. You’d think that a society filled with enhanced men who could lift beyond the peak of human potential would have more trouble and they’d take over. Unfortunately, there was a group of people who found out the hard way in China that enhanced powers and bio-shields wouldn’t work when they were being pounded by projectiles traveling twice the speed of sound. They made guilds in the first years, but they quickly became companies who monopolized the killing, and yet in the end rebranded to what the Earthside Consortium is. The government wasn’t going to just lose its power, and though there are breakers who tried their best in creating new states under the name of the breakers.
But they weren’t willing to fight hard when they just survived the end of the world. World has one way to show solidarity and to nobody’s surprise, there were many who just wanted a good peaceful life. The five billion people of the world would still go on despite the death of many.
“You okay, adjutant?”
“These are type-3’s and 4’s right?”
“They are floating around, and the Vultures all over the seas have been eager to sell these extracts for the right prices.”
Vultures had been eager in making a business out of selling these extracts. They held no method of taking the ichorium, so instead they sold them to mining vessels who paid them credits instead. Not to mention that black-marketeers would rather kill them for the corpses instead of buying it for them.
Gaston examined the laboratory once more. Mercenaries guarded every part of the lab-ship, each one of them armed and ready for anything that might come their way. The breakers were on standby, waiting for any orders while they spent their shift playing games on their mobile or chatting with their friends. Others are taking time to check on their equipment, the rest just smoking away the exhaustion that comes with this job.
Gaston looked at his HUD and saw that it was already past-midnight. He went to the main laboratory where the workers were spraying on a four-meter type-5 and placing long tentacle-like tubes all over the parts of the creature that do not have carapace or shell.
There was a man in a white lab coat stationed behind reinforced glass, operating the process diligently. Hearing his steps, the man turned towards Gaston, gave a meaningful look and went back to operating. “Men, prepare the extract, watch the tanks, same procedure people.”
He turned towards Gaston, tore his blue gloves, and tossed them on the side. “Dave McDowell, head of Research and Extracts. Adjutant, here for the report?”
“Gaston Hardy,” he introduced himself. “And yes, I would like the reports now, please.”
“Tam, get the FD for the adjutant,” he said on the comms and typed on a workstation. “What are your thoughts on the beast we bought, adjutant?”
The biomass creature had red pus-marks on it. Its mouth was torn open by what he had assumed to be a predator bigger than the type-5 beast.
“Oceanic Behemoth?"
“Leviathan, they call it in these waters, adjutant.”
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“Red pus-marks, did it have before it died?”
“After it died.”
“Poison then?”
Gaston eyed the workstation where the data showed how most of the red-pus was being extracted. He noticed that there was a current of electricity running every three seconds on the body of the beast. One tube inserted into the body of the beast was extracting the tiny creatures that were living on those bright red pus-marks.
“That’s dangerous.”
"Type-6 parasites, the dangerous creatures that we all couldn’t fight.”
Gaston shivered at the thought of the parasites. There was a coastal town in Indonesia that found a beast floating on their shores. They thought they could extract ichorium from the beast, so the townsfolk tried to butcher the beast only to find themselves infected with marble-size red pus that slowly tore through their nervous system. Among the five thousand people who lived there, eighty were infected eighty by the first week, and by the third week there were four hundred of them suffering the parasites pus.
No wonder they want him to check the lab-ship. “The area has been cleared?”
“It has been cleared, you do not need to worry about any infected parasite,” he tapped on his workstation, and showed how many times they checked the hulls and floors for any parasite that might have escaped. This was a million-dollar lab-ship and it being compromised because of a single mistake would cost a great loss. Gaston was glad that they were professional enough, and careful enough about their checks. The assistant named Tam handed the FD to Gaston. He invited himself to the nearest workstation, opened the charts, and sorted through the data. He ran a software installed on his bracer and had it search for the keywords related to the operations of the ship. After uploading the relevant data, he made a new file, compressed them, and had it stored on his bracer’s storage.
“Got what you wanted?”
Gaston tapped his fingers on the keyboard. “I want to include the data about that beast. Now, don’t look at me like that. This isn’t a joke, Doc. That’s a type-6 parasite, it is dangerous. I admit that you have done well in making sure that this parasite doesn’t cause problems, but the Consortium needs to know.” Gaston typed on his bracer, and manually connected to the workstation, showing a two-year old report which the Doctor recognized.
“I understand, feel free.”
“Thank you for your understanding.”
Gaston started his AR-module’s recording function while Doctor Tam sent him a confirmation request which gave him the details of the beast. After taking the data from them, he sent an email that said he had taken data of the specimen and made a report to the Lady.
Doctor Dave shrugged his shoulders, and returned to the operation. Gaston stayed on the observation deck, watching how the mechanical arms and tubes extracted samples and materials from the beast. However, they weren’t finished yet with the beast, and a group with skinning tools flayed the beast’s carapace hide while drenching them in liquid that Gaston didn’t recognize.
“Looks like the company is going to invest in the Mars Project, eh.”
The skins of the type-class entities have greater resistance to elements. There are clothing and suits made out of the beasts but most of them were designed for space-faring. Doctor Dave nodded his head, it wasn’t that hard to make an engine search of any investments done by the company. Though lately, there are projects which had been somewhat the news of the centuries as the early mars dome bases were going to be retrofitted. It was fifteen years ago when Mars was closest to the planet, and they sent people to Mars through generational ships that made use of gravity assist to slingshot the vessel to Venus so it could then be slingshotted to Mars, conserving fuel. The success of the human colonization of Mars made it newsworthy and further studies of the ichorium-based engine and the split-realm jumping and raiding techniques had shortened the time they would arrive on Mars by only a year. Because of the split-realm jump drives, the UEDF and UE had decided to send Vimana-class ships that could be deployed with minimal crew to construct new habitats, transport civilians, and deliver the 3D printer forges that was promised by the UE five years ago to the humans on Mars.
“Yes, but we are also skinning them to further enhance the defense of our breakers. They want the suits to be multi-functional within the next five years, and with how many split-realm openings are happening, it would be best if we are geared for any kind of situation.”
“True that,” Gaston agreed. “Can’t say that I don’t understand the sentiment of being away from home. Going out of space, and stepping on another planet. Doc, if you have the chance, would you go to Mars?”
“No. Despite the type-class monsters, our living standards here on earth are still far better here than on Mars. Perhaps, they might have managed to make living conditions on Mars tolerable, and the sub-terra homes and cave-biome cities civilized. I wouldn’t dream of it. Perhaps, if they have started terraforming, and there is an atmosphere, perhaps I might. Those dome city-states aren’t exactly to my liking either.”
“True,” Gaston nodded, “I heard that there are also a lot of restrictions. Barely anyone there has freedom to do anything with most of the people there are either soldiers, engineers, technicians, scientists, doctors, and botanists. Unless you have one hell of a degree, and an impressive CV, I doubt you can even enter Mars.”
“Exactly, that’s why it’s better to spend time here.”
Gaston nodded. After a short time, he left the laboratory, walked to the railings of the lab-ship and typed in the project developed by the World Health Organization about an Ark Ships that had launched almost fifty million humans to the nearest habitable planet. It would take generations to reach the nearest habitable planet. And there was no guarantee that they would survive the trip. It was saddening that when the Ark Ship Project was proposed, there were so many humans who were ready to sign up without a concern for their life. They could die because of malfunction of their cryo capsule or worse the systems would degrade without constant maintenance.
They gave up home to find a place in the stars, but it wasn’t brave. It was simply how fity-million humans had decided to be sent to their possible graves after the end. The world still moves, and although everything was seemingly normal. Gaston knew that it would only take one day to ruin everything if such a worldwide catastrophe happens again.
With such thoughts inside his head, Gaston opened a line to Janna, and started chatting with her while she was on a break. Her insults and rough speech made him forget about the world that he was in.