Chapter 5

The first two hours were spent on getting the drilling site up and running again. The site was located deep in the caverns, beneath a series of twists, aquifers, and roof-hanging vines. In the darkness, fought off only by the drill’s impeding headlight, everything was eerie, and if not for Ava’s enjoyment of the unknown, it may very well have been terrifying.

The drill attached to the multi-hammer bore, which was wide enough to puncture apertures the size of sinkholes, had worn away from years of disuse. V-Knox 852 constructed a newer, more powerful drill using the materials carried in their Life Support Systems and installed it into the central hold accordingly.

Tucker wired the back, Kira the front, and Ava the centre, making sure everything was linked up perfectly. The rest of the crew set up the control panels and connected the drill’s wireless access point via a Wi-Fi signal.

There was some communication between Jack and the Colonisation Officials. Every so often he would update them on the status of the drill, after each successful installation and wiring, and the man on the other end of the Echo Cloud – Agent Harris – monitored the status of each compartment on the drill from a computer. He would be the one to control it. An ‘expert telecommunications system operator’, in his own words.

Tucker said, “If everything goes wrong and the caves come tumblin’ down, we know who to blame.”

A crackle of static, and then Harris said, in an orotund voice, “Sometimes failure is inevitable.”

“Aye, you’re not wrong there. Sometimes it’s not the system that goes wrong, or the people; it’s that mother nature we need to look out for.”

“Like those inkasum the Federation keeps yammering about.” Crook tapped his wrist and swallowed a squirt of water. “I’m starving, man. When’s lunch?”

“I could eat,” said Zef, who had been crouching at the top of the drill’s backsteps for the past half an hour, working away at the bottom compartment, which no surprise included a wiring section on ion circuitry.

Ava’s stomach growled as if listening in on the conversation. All she could think about was food. She backed away from the underpart of the drill machine, her ballpoint snip in one hand, her hot solder in the other. “Lunch?”

“Lunch,” said Zef. It was hard to tell if he was being sarcastic or not. “Take thirty, ladygents.”

Crook was the first to take his helmet off. He was black with a sloping forehead and an overgrown moustache. Not quite as thick or as twisty as Tucker’s, but noticeable all the same. He sat on a flat-faced boulder, zipped open the fannypack at the side of his uniform kit, pulled out a thermoplastic container of sandwiches, opened it, and took an enormous, mouth-watering chomp.

One by one, the crew left their stations and found a place to sit: some on the steps of the drill machine, some uncaringly on the ground, and some…

A hand patted her shoulder.

“You keep staring off into space like that and one day an inkasum is gonna get the drop on you.” Tyrone, of course. Who else could it have been?

“I’ll take my chances.” She pressed the release on her wrist-overlay and her helmet locks popped out. She placed her snip and solder in her side pockets before taking the helmet off. A foul rotten-egg odour infiltrated her nose. “Christ.”

“Hydrogen sulphide.” He attached his helmet to the side of his Life Support System and pulled out a small plastic container of food. “When you’re this deep in the cave, it’s only natural.”

“I’m aware,” she said, having read about it before. People used to explore caves on Earth centuries ago, almost like a sport. There was something so fascinating about them. She followed Tyrone over to a comfortable rock, pulled out her own lunchbox – which contained the same sandwich as Crook’s, only for it was a vegan variant with plenty of lettuce, synthetic cheese, and tomatoes – and took a bite.

Tyrone sat next to her. Under the drill’s headlight, his ratlike face was much more pronounced, as was his scar, which was shaped like a malformed ‘L’.

“How did you get that scar?” The question popped into Ava’s head like an intrusive thought. She felt momentary regret – perhaps it was a bit too personal – but was relieved to see that he was unbothered.

“Birthmark,” he said between chews.

“That explains it,” she said. “I figured it might have been a knife wound or something, but I was also thinking, How would he have gotten into a knife fight on the SS without me hearing about it?” She chuckled.

“Not far from it,” he said. “I have another scar at my navel, not a birthmark per se, but an emergency cut. My mom died during my birth, so they had to cut me out.” He showed no emotion or care to the matter whatsoever, and it perhaps made sense. He wouldn’t feel bad for his mother’s death if he practically never met her.

Still….

Ava couldn’t help but think of her own mother, of her dying one day. It was a painful situation she would no doubt have to deal with at some point. In a way, Tyrone was spared of that. “I’m sorry.”

“Nobody’s fault, really,” he said. “Except God and His bullshit plans, I suppose.” He paused before moving on. “But I’ve been thinking, Ava. About what you said before.”

“About?”

“Back in training,” he said, “when you told me your dad was a member of the CC. That he was last seen on this planet by Barkley.”

“That’s what Maxim says. I don’t necessarily agree with that, but I like to think it’s true.” No, she had to think it was true. If she didn’t, then what was the point of coming here?

Tyrone pursed his lips and wiped a mush of ketchup from under his nose. He pulled the water tube closer, shot a fresh spritz, rolled it around in his mouth, swallowed, and said, “Did Barkley say where the ship crashed?”

She shook her head. “Don’t think so. Why?”

“It might be worth looking at if we get the time,” he said. “I know it’s been a few years, but if we know their ship crashed somewhere, say, near the poles, or at the one hundredth parallel, or somewhere unmarked by the Colonisation, then it makes sense to me that he wouldn’t have been able to make his way here. He could be on an island.”

An island. Now that was a thought, one that she hadn’t considered. She cocked an eyebrow at him. “But why would the CC land there?”

“I’m not saying they did,” replied Tyrone.

“Explain.”

“I don’t know if you remember because it was such a long time ago at this stage,” he said, “but Barkley mentioned their power shutting off after entering the atmosphere…”

The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

It was a bit more nuanced than that. Ava nodded. “The transmitters?”

“Those.” He pointed at her. “That’s right. The transmitters, which in turn caused the electricity to black out. Do you remember?”

It was hard for her to forget. The nightmare hadn’t really left. “Of course I do. Were you in the crowd?”

“I was,” he said, “but only until Mr. Broker shot those innocent soldiers. I ran away. Guns scare me sometimes, Ava.”

“People scare me.”

“That too, but listen, I’m getting off topic. The point is, if the ship lost all function, it could have spiralled anywhere from the landing space.”

“But not far.” Ava bit into her vegan sandwich. Delicious. Vegetables often were. “I can’t remember where they were supposed to land. I don’t think it was ever mentioned, but I’d assume based on the progress of Zurn it would have to be somewhere in the Blue Region.” The Blue Region, parallels one through sixty-five. “That’s a lot of space to cover. I might have to do some more research into it when we get back to base, about the crash site. I have thought about it before, so you know. It’s just there isn’t much information about the surface of Zurn right now, other than the inkasum, obviously.” She took another bite and swallowed.

Later, when lunch ended, the team went back to putting the drilling mechanism together. It took another few hours for them to install the antennas, and another half an hour to link them up with the Colonisation’s central mast at Site 101, but when that was done, it was done.

Finally, the drill was installed, and Ava felt a massive wave of satisfaction shoot through her body. Now the question was whether or not it would work.

Once they received word from Agent Harris that the system was operational, Jack walked up the drill’s backsteps and approached the control panel: a series of blue-coloured buttons, knobs, and sliders.

Here's to hoping Zef wired it properly. Ava expected Jack to say something along those lines, but he’d been awfully quiet since the incident with the misfire. He and Zef must have got into a pretty heated argument. After all, it was a big shock, and not just for Ava – for everyone.

Surprisingly, Nielsen was the first to speak: “I hope there’s an emergency button if this all goes south.”

No one had a chance to reply. Jack pressed his finger down on the central power button and the panel shone green. The gears kicked in, gathering pace as the hammers spun around and around, at first slowly, eventually becoming so fast that each revolution was nothing more than a winding blur. Ava could feel the air from the other side of the cavern.

“She has a mighty roar,” shouted Tucker, whose audio struggled to elevate in the Echo Cloud.

Eventually the machine became so loud that it hurt. Ava’s environmental-hazard-protection system kicked in, and soon the springs at each end of her helmet locked in further until everything was a muffled thrum.

The drill shifted, raised, and pulled backwards. Jack made his way safely off the deck before the steps slid inwards and the wheels rolled towards the regolith.

“Stand back,” said Zef, his voice clearer than Tucker’s had been. “It might get messy.”

Especially if the roof decides to cave in, thought Ava. But it wouldn’t, so long as the drill didn’t destroy or fracture a loadbearing pillar or formation. This was heading down, not up. And down it went, tunnelling into the rock and throwing thousands of chips off to the side like shrapnel from the explosion of a concussive grenade.

“Look at her burrow!” said Tucker.

It was working like a charm. The way their creation sifted through the material was satisfying. For a moment she was thankful, not because everything had gone according to plan, but because she was here, on an exotic alien world, with a team of colonisers just as she had always dreamed. She was thankful to watch the development of humanity’s technology, never mind something she and her crew had partially constructed. She had achieved her goal of being an astroengineer, just like her father. If he was out there, he would surely be proud.

Your father will be proud.

A warning triangle appeared at the centre of her wrist-overlay, with the words SYSTEM OVERDRIVE! flashing timidly across the bottom. On the left, her water level had fallen to a measly 11%. Not good. Ava reached for the moderately sized cylindrical tank at the side of her LS System with both hands, popped it out, and then rotated the wide cap on her right shoulder until it hung loose. She inserted the bore of the water tank into the cap hole and pressed the release button at the side. The water flew down into the hole and filled up her internal tank. When empty, she shut the cap and popped the water tank back into place. She used to have great difficulty doing this in training, especially since the water was so heavy and the cap was located in an awkward position, even though it was most optimal, but now she was a natural.

Sibyl approached one of the Microbe computer panels. It stood breast-height with a mini-CPU attached to the platform above four steel legs. She wired her Echo into the side compartment and tapped some settings on her wrist-overlay.

Some of the tiny mechanical spiders, which had been stocked aside with the team’s supply cases, jumped to life, their eyes glowing with that dim cyan fog, and after a quick press of Sibyl’s finger, scurried along the ground and began chipping away at pieces of rock.

“Good thinking, Anderson,” said Jack. “I nearly forgot about those. Ladies, activate the Microbes and link them up to the CPUs. Pronto.”

“Yessir,” the women of V-Knox 852 said, and began making their way over towards the supply cases.

Once everything was out, Ava approached one of the three other CPU stands, jabbed her Echo wire into the connectivity socket, linked up her system, and activated her list of Microbes. Soon, the ground was a thriving mix of silver arachnids weeding out as many metals as possible.

“Status, Terrygrew?” Agent Harris said in the same deep voice.

“The best team I’ve ever gotten the pleasure of working with.” Jack stared at the machine with his hands at either side of his body, mesmerised. After a moment, he said, “Do me a small favour, Harris.”

“What?”

Jack cleared his throat. “Turn it off.”

“Why?”

“I see something. You see that too, crew, or am I going crazy?”

Ava hadn’t looked at where the machine was drilling enough to notice anything, but after moving away from the control panel and squinting at the entry hole, she saw something purple – a glow of sorts – coming from inside. “What is that?”

“What do you see?” asked Agent Harris.

“’Tis somethin’ shiny anyway,” said Tucker. “I’ll tell you that much.”

“An amethyst, maybe?” said Jade.

“Too bright,” said Sibyl. Then, with hesitation, she said, “I agree with Captain Terrygrew. We should shut the machine off.”

“Shutting it off might cause it to get stuck again,” said Agent Harris. “Just wait it out. The drill will pass it eventually.”

“Or destroy it completely,” said Ava.

“And then the Microbes will pick it up,” Crook said. “Listen, can we head back now?”

Jack hummed thoughtfully. “I suppose so. Mindfield, what do you think?”

Zef stared at the glow only temporarily. He gave a quick nod. “Time to head back.”

“Alright,” said Jack, and he turned towards the crew. “Listen up, we’ll be back tomorrow to collect anything the Microbes may have gathered overnight. Early in the morning as always. Until then, Agent Harris will monitor the status of the drill. That alright with everyone?”

It's better than alright. I could use a break. And hopefully her books and diary would be waiting for her in the dorm.

“Yessir,” said the team.

“Good, now I’ll need you all to—”

A voice cut in before he could finish, screaming in pain. Ava’s eyes flicked to the top left of her overlay: Crook, Martin.

She snapped her head back and spotted him immediately. It wasn’t the dark skin or terrible excuse for a moustache that caught her eye this time; it was the swollen, serpenty maw clamped onto his left calf as he thrashed, pulled, and inevitably tripped onto the ground.

The creature whisked Crook back with a single jerk, its eyes glistening with red. The skin was thin, like a translucent bag, and through it Ava saw organs of purple, blue, and yellowish green. Soundlessly, it tore out a chunk of Crook’s flesh. He screamed.

“Ink! Ink! Ink!” cried Kira, or someone that sounded like her in the moment, and reached for the weapon in her holster. Before she had a chance to draw, a stroke of blue light flashed forward and zapped into the inkasum’s skull, causing a splash of purple brain matter to shoot out in all directions. The body fell lifeless against the earth.

“Jesus Christ.” It turned out to be Jack who pulled the trigger this time. He and the team rushed over to Crook.

“Where the fuck did that come from?” said Zef.

A good question, one that deserved an even better answer. She approached Crook slowly, looking at the massive fleshbite as he writhed in agony, swearing and holding back groans. Then she looked up and found her answer.

“It’s not alone,” said Ava.