Josh’s eyes almost burst out of his head. “What do you mean you don’t recognize this? I recognize this!”
Sen stood in the isolated passageway with Josh, where Naron had displayed the images. Josh’s hands were frantically waving at the center of the three, showing the unmistakable xenomorph eruption from the space marine’s chest.
His voice became increasingly more animated as he spoke. “This creature was obviously shoved down his throat by a... face-hug– via an organism grappling his head and forcing its way down his throat. It gestated inside of him.” Josh’s face showed disgust as he spread his hands in front of his chest and moved them apart, demonstrating growth. “And then when it was big enough... Bam! It clawed its way out of his chest. This is a really big problem, Sen! Really big. Didn’t you review any of the movies, ah… historical records… with Damni about this particular type of space monster?”
Sensing his Karmic brother’s sincere distress over what Josh believed was an emergency, Sen shrugged and explained further. “Well, honestly... we regularly reviewed the historical records for entertainment purposes. If there was a particular one addressing a topic that was an everyday occurrence... what was the point of reviewing it? Internally gestating xenomorphic creatures are hardly something to get excited about. Sorry, brother... I just don’t see the reason to get all worked up about just another bug hunt.” Sen pointed at Naron.
The Vergei was defensively crouched on his haunches and actively looking up to the corners of the passageway for something about to drop on him. His tongue took turns swiping each of his eyes.
“Now, really, Josh, you are scaring poor Naron...” Sen reached out and pulled the Vergei to his feet, dusting off his shoulders and smiling at him. “Come over here, Joshua, and I will show you... if I still can, that is...” Sen walked over to one of the wall consoles and placed his hand on the biosensor used by the crew.
To his surprise, the scanner recognized him in his new mortal form.
“Greetings, Senyak Marztanak, sole seeded heir of the Polar Neutral Marztanak Hegemony. How can this Intelligence serve?” The console spoke in a cultured but cheery tone with an androgynous voice.
Sen smiled at the greeting. “Greetings, Intelligence... please display records of the last five recorded fatalities involving internally gestating parasitic xenomorphs outside of this ship. Please also include how long ago each event occurred.”
“Complying...” the ship replied.
“Gratitude, Intelligence.” Sen slightly bowed to the console.
Pictures sprang up all around Josh. Intelligence narrated each in its crisp, mid-ranged voice as they did. “Today: Parallel Iteration Seventeen, local cluster. Report of Parasitic invasion of an elderly Rodocon with complete internal-xenomorphic gestation. Local exterminator forces hunted and killed the organism to confirm that it was a Centropa.”
The two pictures displayed a thin, four-legged creature wearing a homespun shift with a small skullcap covering its furry, dog-like head. Its chest burst from within, similar to the space marine’s. The second picture showed five heavily armed members of the same species, all smiling doggy grins. They were posing in front of a dead centipede monster. It was ten meters long or longer, and its pincers were sharp as steel if the score marks on the local exterminators’ armor were any indication.
“Today: Parallel Iteration Nineteen, local cluster...”
Two similar graphic photos appeared next to the first set. This time, a gelatinous-like victim. The perpetrator was a leathery-skinned, flying monster with sharp, bony ridges on its twelve-meter wingspan. The victim was a Glimenot, and the monstrosity was a Chiroptour. There was even a ground vehicle in the background of the kill picture with a painted side panel image of a large, dead roach with Xs over its eyes. The logo under it read—
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“Today: Parallel Iteration Twenty-Four, local cluster...”
This time, Josh recognized the victim. A Jaralon, the species that made up the majority of the crew, its long and lanky body defiled as the others had been. It floated in orbit above a blue-green gas-giant planet that reminded Josh of Neptune. The parasitic organism was a Cebolar, a chlorophyll-using space plant that had matured into a three-meter sphere. It reminded Josh of an immense and terrifying onion. Several sharp, root-like projections in the shape of buzzsaw blades were growing from its sides.
“Yesterday: Parallel Iteration Seven—”
Josh, with his head hung low, raised his hand in a stopping motion to admit defeat. “Okay, Intelligence, you can stop. I get it. This situation is more a rat infestation than a civilization-ending issue. Thank you for setting me straight.”
“You are welcome, Joshua Elias Tanner. And please allow me to welcome you aboard the Hegemon-4 formally. Be informed you have been given access parallel to the seeded Hegemony heir for the duration of your stay.”
Josh nodded to the console.
Sen quickly wiped the smile off his face when Josh spoke to him with a sheepish look.
“All right... It's my turn to be the country bumpkin out of his depth. The idea that creatures like xenomorphs and such are deeply rooted terrors in my culture and…mythological history. They are the definition of things that go ‘bump in the night’, as the great philosopher Scooby Doo once said. I’m sorry for overreacting.”
Sen nodded through their Bond. ~No need for apologies. We’re in this together.~
Josh returned the nod. ~Thank you, brother.~
“But you are right about one thing. Whatever is killing the scouting teams is a more challenging organism than the average internally gestating, parasitic xenomorph.”
Josh smiled wickedly. “I’d like to think that is an accurate way to describe us as well.”
With the end of all life as they knew it on the Hegemon-4 averted, Naron spun on his heels and led them down two more lifts, several walkways, and a zip-line across a dark chasm they couldn’t see the bottom of.
“A facility shortcut for the maintenance crews.” The vergei said, rolling his right wrist to indicate the tremendous distance to the ceiling and the deck of the chasm, leveraging his currently zipping body with only his left.
Naron finally stopped at an open door and turned to them. His hands were raised at chest level in an I-surrender motion, and his eyes opened even wider than usual.
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He spoke fearfully in his deep, resounding voice and cowered away from the door. “This is Symbal’s place. He’s the quartermaster for the forward section of the Hegemon-4. Aside from being difficult for everyone to deal with... he’s specifically pissed at me right now.” Naron held up both hands as a barrier between him and the open door. “... I got drunk and forgot to detail enough men to support his last cross-ship convoy of supplies during our outfitting last week– We’re still working it out. But... I think you should probably go on your own from here. I’ll be more of a... hindrance than anything—”
From the other side of the open doorway, a high-pitched and nasally-sounding male voice shouted in what sounded to Josh like very thickly accented Chinese yet was still somehow in crystal-clear English. “Is that you, Naron? May the Tan Lao thorn monks nest in your rectum! Your ham-fisted goons still haven’t fixed my transports. Half of my supplies are rotting at random places around the ship!”
Naron’s tongue spasmed as it cleaned his left eye. Then he was off like a shot down the passageway, bowing his farewell to Sen and Josh as he ran backward the first few steps.
Sen and Josh waved a slightly surprised and tentative goodbye. They had already asked Naron all the pertinent questions they could think of. Among the information they had gotten from him was the number of missing space marines—thirty-two over the last twenty-five years. The most recent group sent was a joint team of eight. They had gone into Epsilon 97, 1.5 Ka nexus gyra ago. Sen calculated this for Josh as approximately six Earth days. Naron confirmed that the double squad of eight space marines had also suspected an invasively gestating, parasitic creature.
Furthermore, standard procedure in areas with limited ship sensors would necessitate leaving a clear trail for rescue teams to follow. Also, the space marines were to leave cached-log entries of their findings. Naron had given Josh and Sen master codes to the recording devices the marines had taken in with them.
They had also confirmed with Intelligence the extent of the internally gestating parasite issue. Using his hand on the biosensor at another terminal, Josh had opened that conversation with Intelligence.
“No, Joshua Elias Tanner. No other episodes of internally gestating parasites have been reported or observed on the Hegemon-4 since it came out of its stasis cradle 2.01 Ka nexus cycles ago. Of course, the sensor block in Epsilon 97 would prevent detecting such gestation attacks in that location.”
“Thank you, Intelligence.”
“Glad to serve, young cultivator. May your spiritual growth be without bounds!”
Josh couldn’t help but bow at what seemed like a traditional farewell among cultivators.
Based on this information, it was unlikely that these parasites had migrated outside the blacked-out sensor zone within Epsilon 97. Ridley Scott would have been aghast.
Nonetheless, Josh still felt a sense of urgency. If they were on time, they could rescue some or all of the double team of space marines. After all, the marines had only gone in six days ago. Josh had a growing feeling, not too different from the Tartarus portal, that it was necessary for them to try and save any they could. Josh confirmed that Sen was experiencing the same draw to Epsilon 97 that he was.
~You feel it too?~ Josh queried through their Bond.
~Yes, this is important.~
Neither of them could explain why it was so imperative, but that didn’t matter. It was a top priority to him and Sen on their Path of One — or Two, in their case. They would move into the zone today after they got what they needed from Symbal.
They entered the door where the yelling had come through, and several assistants at the front counter greeted them. However, the enormity of the room that spread out behind the workers was what caught Josh’s attention. It stretched as far as their enhanced eyes could see and then continued reaching off into the distance, out of sight. Row after row of shelves, not much shorter than those in Gaia’s storeroom, were neatly laid out and filled with sealed containers with the Hegemon-4’s name printed on all sides. It was almost a flashback to the massive storeroom where they had met Achilles. Almost... but Josh was certain Gaia’s room had been bigger... and much scarier!
The crew were dressed in the standard blue and silver onesies as they milled about behind the counter. After the initial mind-explosion of walking through a regular door and unexpectedly finding himself standing in a space with more area than the Grand Canyon, Josh’s attention went to an unassuming figure sitting dead center at the counter. He was slim, human with Asian features, and had been eyeing Josh and Sen without blinking since they had walked through the door. He wore a well-made but age-faded gray sweater over his onesie and what looked like four silver bars on his shoulder, placing him at equal rank with Naron.
Lieutenant Commander, it is.
“Yes, how may I help you both?” the man said politely.
Several assistants nearest the man acted busy without really being so. Having worked in offices most of his life, Josh could tell they absolutely wanted to hear what would happen but didn’t want to attract more of Symbal’s attention than necessary. Josh remembered a Seinfeld episode he had seen where George Costanza demonstrated how to look busy in front of his boss without actually being so... And these guys were masters of George’s techniques.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Lieutenant Commander—”
The unassuming man’s eyes thinned, and a slight tilt entered his neck as he spoke over Josh in a pleasant voice. “You can stop blowing smoke up my Chinese ass right there, Joshua. I’m Symbal Nang. Symbal to the people who want to get along with me. I know you are here for supplies to go into Epsilon 97...” Symbal stood on his stool’s bottom cross bars to lean over the counter and get face-to-face with both of them. “This is a critical mission for us in the supply depot! One of our friends was on that last scouting mission. You are our only hope to get them back. Agreed?”
Josh and Sen nodded in agreement.
Then Josh darted his eyes to Sen ~Chinese? Like Chinese from Earth Chinese?~
Sen made a small, knowing smile and shrugged his shoulders. ~It is a parallel iteration, Joshua. You are likely to find many similarities between here and your ‘Earth’.~
Symbal brought them back to the present as he pulled back from leaning over the counter. ““Well, then... We understand each other. Please, come this way.” Symbal jumped down from the stool and lowered his head in welcome as he flipped over a section of the counter to lead them back into the warehouse segment of the supply depot.
Symbal was even shorter than Josh had thought, placing him around five-one or five-two at the most.
The quartermaster walked ahead of them and began speaking and pointing. The fleet of assistants behind them began moving forward and gathering equipment in a coordinated activity that would make German watchmakers weep with envy.
“You will take the standard field-pack for our special operators. Tents, cooking equipment. Standard rations for eight weeks. Water purification. Weather gear. Submersion gear. Radiation shield array and generator, radiation gear, and detoxification units. Advanced first-aid kits. Advanced communications rig. For all the good it will do for you. Utility knives forged from neutron-impregnated steel. Timekeeping gear. Portable atmospheric units, along with a portable air purifier. Sonic, infrared, and motion-based sensor equipment effective up to five hundred meters... again... for all the good it will do you—
“Do either of you have any special needs? Handicaps not obvious, food allergies, required medications? Slow mentation?”
He looked directly at Joshua with that last one. Sen snorted.
Josh did a double take, then failed his own cause by loudly complaining, “Hey–”
“-- We’re fine,” Sen interrupted and leaned into Symbal, “... He always looks like that.”
“—Sen!” Joshua choked over Sen’s snickers.
Symbal simply nodded and moved on.
They came to a massive section of the warehouse containing racks upon racks of weapons going on as far as their eyes could see. Of course, there were firearms—handheld, rifles, carbines, automatic, fully automatic, and long-range weapons for snipers. There were also mounted firearms of all forms. Mass-weight projectile, energy, plasma, and even one that Sen couldn’t identify when Josh asked about it. Josh was sure he had also seen crates identifying grenades, landmines, and even marine-drop-deploy mines for large, water-going vessels.
An immediately adjacent section displayed suits of compound, Kevlar-metallic body armor that Josh had seen in the picture of the space marine. The same armor that the parasite had chewed through. There were energy-shield versions of the same armor. At least Josh thought so based on pictures accompanying the crates. Josh could also see racks of what Josh could only describe as full-on, mechanized-power armor. The kind that he had only ever seen in video games.
Symbal stopped and faced them there. Holding his arms out from his sides as if barring them from proceeding into the section.
His face contorted in pain as he was clearly about to say something his heart was at war with, and his teeth ground on every word as he spoke with them clenched. “Concerning weapons... our Lord Clone... in his infinite wisdom... has strictly forbidden me from offering you anything more than a sharpening stone and these leather scabbards for your already possessed... short swords...” Symbal reached down to a small desk hidden in the shadow of the shelves they were standing under and handed them the sharpening stones and scabbards. “Please know that if it were up to me, I would provide you with anything up to and including the R & D prototype Mobile Stargen conduit plasma cannons to roll in with you at Epsilon 97!” He sighed, closing his eyes tightly for a moment. “Beyond this, I offer you my daily prayers for success.”
He leaned down to the desk, grabbing a photo in an 8x10-inch frame. He kissed his finger and placed it over the face of the young girl holding the hand of a much younger Symbal.
Tears glistened in his eyes as he looked up at Josh and Sen. “Bring my little girl back to me, gentlemen.”
A large pile of gear awaited them near the front counter. Much more than they could put into any standard backpack. Backpacks that Symbal had insisted they carry to have the standard survival package of food, first-aid, utility, and communications gear they would each need in case they got separated. Beyond that, they looked at the tents, weather gear, purification equipment, etcetera... and weren’t quite sure what to do.
“What are you waiting for, sherpas from my home world, to carry it? Put it in your aspect facet!” Symbal pointed to the bag dangling under Josh’s left arm.
Symbal then picked up the largest item, a quick-erecting, two-person tent. No less than four feet long. Pulling the black leather bag’s top flap up, Symbal neatly dropped it into the opening, no muss, no fuss. The mouth of the bag expanded to encompass the ten-inch wide square of the tent’s frame and immediately returned to its normal dimensions.
Josh’s eyes almost jumped out of his skull. He and Sen immediately started putting things in the bag. Soon, they had put the 3x4-foot pile neatly away.
Josh had many questions to ask Symbal about the bag but held back for now. More important things to do. After the faith that Symbal had placed in them, he couldn’t bear to show the man his lack of knowledge about something so simple. Symbal needed to see hope. Josh understood that better than most concerning a lost child. For now, Josh would hide his feet of clay from the quartermaster.
On the way out, just to be sure, Josh flipped the loose flap of the black leather satchel that still weighed no more than when he first had put it on. He held his hand over the opening, and a portion of his interface silently sprang up, allowing him to summon the bag’s contents by name and graphic interface. All the items were there, up to and including the two spearheads they had placed inside first. Leaving it at that for now... they quickly left the depot, heading to the entry of Epsilon 97.