Patterson took a pistol, an extra magazine, three flares, and a headlamp from the supply cart. She tucked the gun such that allowed for quick draw and stored the ammo and flares in cargo pockets. Then she tested the goggles and placed it under her hood.
“Captain, it looks like the creature utilizes some sort of inflammatory toxin. My guess is it works fast, but the evidence still indicates that it has to get close to hurt you. Keep it away from you with your torch.”
She grabbed the chain while the Captain answered her affirmatively and she easily pulled herself up to the access plate. She got leverage on it and then gracefully pushed herself in, making it look easy. She looked up and saw Stocky looking down at her. He gave her a thumbs up and then turned back towards De Silva’s duct.
After securing her footing, she examined the plating and pulled a vial out of her coat pocket. She quickly collected a sample of the strange substance on the access plate while frequently looking down the nearby ducts to verify they were empty. She would analyze the alien substance later and she then readied herself for a fight.
“I’ve got the bottom covered, Stocky,” she said. She lit the flares while she spoke and threw them down the corridors. Now she could see any shadows cast from movement. She had both her eyes and ears available. And Stocky could smell for them both.
“Roger, I’m on my way.” De Silva said. “I’m making decent pace.”
“Captain,” Samoylova called. “I can come in from the ventilation system near your level...”
“Negative,” he said. “I’m not risking anyone else.”
“Captain, it’s an acceptable risk!”
Patterson could perceive that Samoylova was mad since the Captain was fine with her going into the ducts. She would remind her later that the truth was that De Silva just has little option for telling her ‘No.’
“Negative,” De Silva said. “Stay put and be my eyes and ears.”
“There are no eyes, Captain, all of the rovers have shut down.”
That changed things dramatically. Patterson looked up at Stocky in fright. He silently motioned with his lips that the Captain was close.
“Then you won’t have time to get to me,” De Silva answered. “Stocky, keep looking my way.” Thankfully, his voice indicated that he was still focused and determined.
“I will,” Stocky answered. “Patterson!” he said. He waited for her attention.
She looked up at Stocky in confusion. He had spoken to her directly and not over comms.
“Can you hold this position by yourself for a few minutes?”
Where are you going? “Yes, I believe so. Why?”
“Just do it. And don’t say anything over comms. I won’t be long.”
She watched him turn upward and he began to push upward against the top plate. A moment later a weld failed with a loud scream and then he began to bend the plate outward. The fibrous insulation attached to the outside of the habitation boundary frayed with the failing metal.
“What are you doing?” she yelled. He didn’t answer. He silently poked his head in the void space to look around and then he crawled up and out of sight. She felt a rush of cold air upon her. That is what caused the temperature anomalies. The Creature has punctured holes all through these insulated ducts.
She knew that there was a void space between the habitation boundary and the main pressure hull. It allowed for inspecting the condition of the insulation fiber attached to the two metal layers – while further increasing the effectiveness of that insulation. She hadn’t realized that it was big enough for a man to crawl through. Now she hoped it would be large enough to drag a man through.
She grabbed the ladder and quickly worked her way to the top of the trunk. It was dangerous to keep both levels covered. Luckily, she had staged the flares in the ducts below. I can do this for a few minutes. Lord, keep them safe. “Captain, keep working your way to us.”
“I will,” he replied. “I’ve got another five or six meters to the bend. Then I should be able to see you.”
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Fuller’s voice came from darkness. “I died, Captain. I’m with Zhu and Soliman in Hell.”
De Silva looked behind him to see only an empty corridor. Am I imagining it? His throat was tight and he felt his heart racing. He was certainly scared enough for his mind to be affected. He couldn’t even remember the last time he had felt fear like he did now. He repositioned himself, pointed his flamethrower and let out a good blast. It created an immediate rush of searing heat on his face.
He waited for any response. He heard only a low, steady hum from a distant blower. If the Creature was there, he had failed to provoke it. Perhaps it was testing him. Maybe it had been his imagination. It didn’t matter. All that mattered was getting out. Fast! The ducts were death.
Again came Fuller’s voice, pregnant with horror and agony. “It hurts so bad. I never knew you could feel pain like this.”
It can’t be Fuller. He peered into the darkness for any irregular shape. But that’s not my imagination either.
He began to back his way through the corridor, keeping focused on the threat direction. This part of the corridor was a straight shot, but once he crossed the bend there were small penetrations from vent ducts and cable runs to worry about. He would have Stocky to help watch over him, but he still wouldn’t be safe. He held his flamethrower at the ready in one hand and he pulled his pistol from its holster with the other.
I got to be ready for a fight. Just a little further to go. The Lord is my shepherd…
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He heard Fuller again. “I once thought I was something. I thought all splicers were. But I was nothing, and now I’m dead. You’ll soon be like me – where it hurts forever.”
And now it was Soliman’s voice. “We both died here, Captain. I died because I failed to save Zhu. And you’ll die because you failed to save us all.”
His heart now pounded in his chest. This was a fear he had never known. He had faced difficulties in the past, but he always had confidence that he could overcome them through thought and effort. This was different. He couldn’t fight this – he didn’t even know what it was. His hands shook and his grip on the flamethrower became slippery from sweat. God, get me through these next few minutes.
He glanced behind him again and was disturbed to see he wasn’t making rapid progress. He realized that he should be able to tell because of his awkward, crouched pose. Still, he hoped – desperately hoped – for a speedy exit.
“Captain,” he heard. It was Holly over comms. “I know you need to focus, but don’t get too quiet in there.”
“I’m good,” he answered. It was almost a stutter. Just a little longer now.
He continued backing through the corridor. His hands were now sweating so profusely that it was hard to keep a steady grip on his weapons. He could hear his heart hammering within his chest. He watched the corridor like how Patterson had said, keeping his focus slightly off to utilize the periphery of his eyes since they are more tuned towards brightness. He knew it was poised to strike at the first sign of weakness. Although he saw nothing in the dark, he knew it.
“You will all join us eventually,” he heard Fuller say again. “All of you,” he heard, and this time it seemed as if Zhu, Soliman, and Fuller were speaking in unison. They were all in the ducts with him, and they sounded vengeful. “All of you – in Hell with us forever!”
He squeezed the trigger and let another panicked blast issue from his flamethrower. He neither saw nor heard an immediate response. It’s not afraid of fire! He thrust forward his left hand and let out a trio of shots from his pistol in the dark, staggering his aim slightly in between each of them.
“What is it?” Samoylova asked. “What do you see?”
“The pain never fades!” the voices whispered.
“My God, what’s going on in there?” Holly shouted with a dreadful voice.
“Stay calm and move,” Samoylova shouted over her.
“Not now,” he replied. Their fright was just making it worse. The only thing more terrifying than hearing these phantom voices was not being able to because others were shouting over the line.
Several people now began to call to him at once.
“Not now!” he screamed over them. Anger had surged within him, mixing with his fear.
A loud overhead bang took him by surprise and with an awful squeal the portion of the duct above him split open and buckled down. A dark figure moved within the absolute blackness of the void spaces near the pressure hull.
“God, please!” he shouted in dreadful fear. He instinctively pulled both trigger fingers, sending burning death – and a bullet – down through the dark corridor, missing the threat above him while horrified cries from his crew poured over comms. He tried to raise the flamethrower to burn the attacker above him, but the creature was impossibly strong. It pressed his weapon to the floor of the duct and he could only feebly burn metal. And a moment later, another appendage with inhuman strength painfully grabbed his shoulder and began to pull him through the opening above. He then saw a glimpse of it with his light – it was huge and both manlike and monstrous.
He screamed with both mind-breaking terror and desperate rage as he struggled against his attacker. He raised his pistol up and fired.
The hollow point rounds weren’t supposed to damage the pressure hull. He had never tested this specification, until he did so now while consumed by fear. He fired until empty. And it did nothing. And then the huge shadow yanked him out of System’s Access into a black void space. He would die here alone. God save my family and my crew.
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Stocky lowered De Silva from the trunk. He kept his focus on the ducts and tuned Patterson’s yelling out. (She would understand later when calm.) He inwardly acknowledged that he should have told both her and De Silva that he was going into the void spaces. But he had worried that the enemy was listening to their comms. Although he hadn’t foreseen the dangers of miscommunication, his plan had worked.
The Captain was broken with fright, shaking violently and babbling about being sorry for failing them. Chandna quickly gave him a strong sedative. The rest of the crew had already gathered around. Their faces were stricken with horror.
“Can you give us some room?” Stocky yelled. They backed away without argument.
Patterson and then Stocky lowered themselves out of the trunk. She turned to Chandna. “Did you sedate him?”
“Yes, he’s calm now,” Chandna replied as he examined De Silva.
“Is he injured?” Patterson asked.
“He might have sprained something,” Stocky said. “He fiercely resisted – for a human.”
She then turned to him. “Are you okay?”
“I feel fine, but you’ll have to check me for infection. I’ve been shot.” He pointed at two reddish stains already forming on the chest area of his work coveralls.
“Shot?” she said with some confusion while she noticed the blood stains on his clothes, and then she pulled out a knife and cut through his coveralls.
“I can take it off.”
“Don’t,” she said. “It’s protecting you from contact with anything contaminated. I just want to see the wounds.”
“They’re not deep. No organs have been hurt. I can smell the difference.”
She grabbed a box on their staged cart and pulled a set of surgeon’s gloves. She put them on and nodded. She certainly knew his carbon nanotube reinforced bone and cartilage would stop bullets and that his tough tissue might not even let them get that far.
“Is there an infection risk?”
“Did anything brush against the wounds?” she asked.
“No.” He was certain of the answer.
“Probably not then. The bullets were clean. And the bleeding should have expelled anything. I’m going to apply a bit of alcohol to sanitize the wound and then cover them with gauze. Then we’ll head to decon.”
“Aren’t we going to make any attempt to get Fuller?” Nieves asked.
“He’s dead,” Moussa said quietly. Most of the crew silently lowered their heads.
“We don’t know that,” Qureshi said.
“I don’t see how he could possibly still be alive,” Moussa said. “He’s with Yeshua now.”
“We could at least have Samoylova send another rover,” Ginting said.
“What, and wait here while I get one?” Samoylova said, reminding them that they had used them all.
Stocky looked at Holly. The Creature had killed Fuller before stalking De Silva, and it had almost got him too. It wasn’t wise to go back in, or to wait for a rover to check. But it was her decision. “What do you want to do, ma’am?”
“We’ll go to decon,” she replied. “You’re hurt and the Captain is incapacitated. We don’t have the people to risk checking on a man who’s certainly dead.”
“It’s not right,” Nieves said.
“It is right,” Holly said. “We’re not doing any more funerals. We don’t know how to track this thing yet. We’ll come back when we’re ready.” She looked at Samoylova. “Take what we learned and come up with new options. Give me anything you think of. You can use any weaponry we can make.” She turned to Patterson. “I know it’s a lot to ask. But I need you to try to build something that can kill this monster in a few shifts.”
“We’ll do our best,” Patterson said.
Stocky watched Patterson apply the gauze while Holly led the crew toward Sci-Med. They now appeared frightened. He tried not to look at them. He was angry that he was sent out here all alone. Humans had never made a difference on any of the projects he had worked, and they certainly wouldn’t matter here. He would heed Patterson’s instruction and do whatever was needed to quickly heal. He would have to take care of this alien creature by himself.
“Let’s go,” Patterson said, finishing. “We’ll shower and then I want to take an MRI to verify no fragments penetrated deep. And I want to keep you under observation in Sci-Med for a few days. I need your help anyways.”
“That’s fine. We probably shouldn’t linger here.” He was glad to have more time with her.
She turned for Sci-Med and he followed. He still couldn’t smell the monster. It was keeping well away. It had already achieved its objective and was now preferring caution. The alien stalker appeared like it was intentionally killing them one at a time in the same manner that he had weeks prior in the drill. He needed another replicant to safely trap and kill it. But he only had the other crewmembers available, and she might do well enough.