by S. A. Xylem
“LamGranite as Multiverse” Photo by Manfred Hauben
The thump rattles my skull as we touch down on the surface of the unknown.
Here we are. I realize I’ve been holding my breath and let out a relieved sigh. A smile reaches my face, and the glimmering metallic walls of this tin can fill with the cheering of my crewmates.
We all step out, the thudding of our feet on the metal turned into the soft sound of grass beneath us. I take in a huge breath, and let it out, breathing the fresh air of discovery.
“What the hell’s this place called again?”
“Shut up, Greyson.”
“This is the planet Solus,” drones The Suit. “It is the only planet in this system, which is several million light years from Earth.”
We call him The Suit because we don’t know his name. He insists on not telling me or anyone else. I wonder what he was like before his dead–end government job. Maybe he was a party boy. Or a ladies’ man. Not anymore though. He exchanged his humanity for the sterile blue shirt that he constantly dons. Cure thinks he’s a robot. His blond hair is almost white and stays in a rigid shape. He’s never seen without his electronic clipboard he uses to log and track who knows what.
Spero gallantly strides through the shin–high grass under the thick canopy of the trees towering stories and stories above us. After putting his hands on his hips, he stares longingly up into the sky, which is barely visible past the tendril–like leaves of the trees. We spend a minute not talking and simply taking in the place that would be our homes for an “indeterminate amount of time” according to The Suit. Finally, Spero leaps up to the nearest tree and begins to scale it. He climbs with drive and determination, until he goes above the green canopy.
“This blue sun is beautiful!” he exclaimed down to us.
After Spero was done admiring the glowing pale blue star, he descended the tree slowly and carefully. He jumped down from the last few feet and landed gracefully next to Greyson.
“Watch it,” he grunted, glaring at Spero.
We’re all seated in the mess, eating food from the garden down the hall. Greyson is shoveling food in like he hasn’t eaten in days. I look at him and scoff.
Charles turns to me and puts his elbow on the table before saying, “So what brings ya here, kid?”
I look at him questioningly. “What is that supposed to mean?”
He smirks and replies, “I mean, why would you take the journey all the way out to this desolate nowhere land? What’s in it for you?”
“I don’t have to tell you anything. Why did you come here?” I demand.
“Look, kid, I’m a businessman,” Charles condescendingly remarks. “This is a great opportunity. Earth is becoming an overpopulated hellhole, so when everyone jumps ship, I’ll be the first one here, and I’ll own all the real estate.”
Spero rolls his eyes and Cure sighs.
I stand in the cold and sterile shower. My thoughts bounce back and forth through my head. I made it. I’m here. Away from Earth. For who knows how long. I wonder if I’ll grow to love the people I’m surrounded with here. Or will I be just as miserable as I was before? As I’m busy moping, the shower starts to make a noise like a groaning elephant. I jump and almost fall. The water stops. After thirty seconds, the water continues to flow. I turn off the shower and step out. After getting dressed, I go to Alison.
“Hey, the shower just made the worst noise I’ve ever heard come from a machine and the water stopped flowing for a while. You think you could check it out?”
“Yeah, yeah,” she said. “I’ll do it later. I have more important things to do than fix your stupid shower.”
The next day, I wake up groggy and tired. I put on my worn leather jacket and step out into the misty forest. The fog was thick enough that I could only see a few yards in front of me. I trek away from our splinter ship, a colony class bucket that has now practically planted itself into the ground. Our mother ship is the Mobius Ark. She dropped us off in this blue sun system on this world, Solus. We are the exploratory crew for a new colony on a new world.
Spero sprints up behind me.
“Hey,” he said, out of breath, “going for a walk?”
“Yeah,” I said in a sluggish voice. I was still moving slowly after I woke up, but it seemed Spero was ready for anything.
“This place is incredible,” mused Spero. “Everything is so serene.”
I shrugged. “I suppose.”
We trekked through the calm wilderness for a while. The leaves of the trees seemed to disobey gravity, swaying through the air, making it seem like the trees were alive. We reach a cliff where below us lie a beach with fine deep red sand. We sat down quietly to admire what we could through the fog, until I broke the silence.
“Spero,” I questioned. “Why did you come here?”
“Me?” He responded. “I came here for the wonder of exploration. This is the unknown. The final frontier, if you will. We are the ones that will discover the future. This humble group of nobodies. And it is an honor for me to be at the forefront of that. That’s all that I wanted when I signed up for this.”
I let his words sink into my brain as I stared out into the mist. We sat on the edge of the cliff until I stood up and walked away, Spero staying behind.
“Don’t wait for me, I’ll be back soon,” he called to me.
Later, back on our space–tub, I lay in my sterile room, populated with nothing but a bed, a shower, a toilet and a small metal desk. The brain–numbing buzzing of the fluorescent light abruptly ceases as I smack the button on the wall. I lay in my bed covered with a single white sheet, staring at the ceiling. Thoughts fall in my head like rain, splashing at the bottom, creating a cacophony of memories from the world I left behind. I hate it all. As much as I’m glad I left, it left a hole in my body. That rots and festers at the edges. But no one cared about me, so why should I care?
Spero enjoyed our journey into the wilderness so much that he arranged another one with everybody. Some agreed enthusiastically, others had to be persuaded. We were all gathered outside, waiting for Greyson. He trod out of the ship, grunting and mumbling to himself.
“You look delighted to be here.” Cure commented, putting her hands on her hips. Greyson seemed to pretend she didn’t exist and begrudgingly began trudging along with us. After some time, the sky started to darken, although none of us noticed. In front of me, Cure’s curly black hair began to wave in the growing wind. The wind increasingly picks up, making it impossible not to notice. The tendrils of the trees wave violently. The wind begins to howl and gust, creating a deafening noise. It doesn’t take long before it’s difficult to walk. We all struggle to take steps and shout to each other.
“This is one hell of a storm!” Charles yells above the gale.
“I couldn’t tell, thanks for the observation,” Cure shouts back. As soon as she finished her sentence, I lose my footing, and I’m flung backwards. My vision deteriorates, and the world goes black.
I lift each eyelid incredibly slowly, my body radiating with soreness. I’m nearly blinded by the lights on the ceiling. I start to sit up, but Alison notices from the other side of the room and pushes me down.
“Sorry, kid, you’re not going anywhere.” she told me.
“What’d I do?” I mumble.
“You hit a tree after the wind took you for a little flight.”
“How bad did I bang myself up?” I question.
She quickly types on her tablet before responding, “Just a few broken bones. Nothing serious. I’ll have you good as new in no time.” Not soon after, I fall back asleep.
I trudge out to the mess hall where everyone’s already started to eat. Greyson is fully absorbed in his meal as usual. Everyone looked at me and beckoned me to the table.
“Look who’s back.” Cure remarks. “How’s your head, kid?”
“Alright.” I respond.
Charles interrupts. “Maybe hitting that tree will knock some sense into you.”
I roll my eyes. “Ha ha.” We finish our meals and adjourn to our quarters.
I’m walking through the hall of the ship until I hear Spero shouting.
“Everybody! Come here! Help!” His voice echoed through the whole place.
I was the first to arrive. “What’s up?” I asked, out of breath from sprinting. I noticed his clothes were torn in places.
“I took The Suit out to see the red beaches, and a creature emerged from the sand and attacked him!” He exclaimed with terror in his voice. “There was only one, and I barely managed to get it off of him. He’s hurt bad.” Everyone else came and started bombarding Spero with questions.
“No time!” he yelled exasperatedly over their voices. “Follow me!” He immediately took off into the wilderness, and I was quick to follow. As we all reached The Suit, we were panting and gasping. Alison kneeled over The Suit’s bloodied body, coated with the red sand that starkly contrasted his pale blue suit. She gently felt his scratched, bloody neck. His wounds were gruesome, with his bone showing in spots through deep cuts. His usually neat blonde hair was messy, disheveled, and blood–stained. We were speechless. Alison abruptly stood upright and turned to us.
“He’s still alive, but his pulse is erratic. We’ve got to get him back to the ship now.” she announced solemnly.
Greyson and I heave him up and begin the journey back to the ship.
We’re all waiting anxiously outside the ward. Cure is pacing back and forth, and Spero is slouched in a chair, staring into space. We hear Alison scream, “Damn it!” from behind the door. After a thunderous thud, the door creaks open and Alison stands in the doorway.
She takes a sharp, pained breath before she sighed, “He’s gone.”
Spero puts his head in his hands. Cure drops into a chair. I take a breath of exasperation.
“Great,” Greyson grunted. “The Suit’s gone. No one’s here to babysit us now.”
“Do you think that this is a joke?” Cure snapped. “We must contact Earth. Now.”
“What’re they gonna do? Send us flowers?” Greyson retorted.
Alison replied calmly, “They’ll give us further instruction.”
Greyson strode up to Alison and stared her in the eye. “Are you his replacement? Huh? Reporting our every move to your sad little bosses on Earth? Go ahead.” he sneered.
Alison remained composed in the face of Greyson’s taunting. “I don’t believe you understand. Whatever killed The Suit poses a major threat to us and our mission. Alien life forms and human colonies don’t mix well. Do you want to end up like him?”
“Fine.” Greyson sniped, “Contact the Mobius to pick us up, then. Mission over. For that matter, contact Earth. They’ll be a fat load of help.” He scowled before storming out of the room.
Spero was still in shock, staring at nothing on the floor.
“He had a family.” he said, his voice escalating. “He had a family and a life on Earth. And we didn’t even know his name! I caused this.”
I step to him and put my hand on his shoulder. “No, you didn’t, Spero. You had no way of knowing. It was that creature.” I assured.
Alison lowered her eyebrows. “Could you describe the creature that did this to The Suit?”
Spero took a long, steady breath with his eyes closed before responding, “Yeah. It was long and scaly. Like a human–sized snake. It had three little legs on each side that it crawled on, each with sharp claws. It was orange–red, so it blended in perfectly with the sand. It had these long fangs and dark soulless eyes.” He recalled, struggling to keep his voice steady. When he finished, he slouched further in his chair.
“You’ve been through a lot today. I suggest you all get some sleep.” Alison addressed the whole room. I suppose she’s in charge now?
Charles scoffs, “Alright, mom,” as he strutted out of the room. Everyone else slowly meandered back to their rooms, until Spero and I are the only ones left. He was intensely preoccupied with the wall in front of him, his bloodshot eyes blank.
“Are you gonna be alright?” I questioned.
The question seems to barely register with him. He acknowledged me with a half–hearted “Yeah.”
“It wasn’t your fault, if that’s what you’re thinking.” I tell him accusingly.
My words don’t faze him, he continues to stare at the wall.
I start to slowly back out of the room. “Alright, well, if you need me . . . I’ll be in my quarters. Seeya.”
We’re all gathered on the bridge the next day, the wide control panel spanning the entire display screen. The plethora of glowing buttons and screens light up Alison’s face as she presses buttons in a seemingly random pattern. She turned to face all of us and announced, “There. I just patched us in to Earth.” Quantum relays made communication possible over the vastness. The moment she finished her sentence, a rotund, clerkish man appeared on the display screen at the front of the bridge. He was in a stifling, beige–painted cubicle. He had bags under his eyes and was wearing a plain white shirt with a loud, colorful tie.
“Is this the crew from the Mobius Ark Mission to Solus?” he droned in a monotone.
Alison stood forward to represent us. “Yes,” she said confidently. “We have solemn news to relay.”
The man rubbed his eyes while mumbling, “Mm–hmm?”
“The representative you sent with us on this mission has sadly been killed.” Alison stated.
The man straightened in his chair. “He what?” he sputtered.
Alison retained her composure as we watched her speak. “Despite our best efforts to preserve his life, your representative was killed by a creature from this planet,” she calmly declared.
He put on a cheap, old headset for a while and spoke to someone over it. After a while, he set it down on his desk. He looked into the camera.
“Ok,” he instructed. “You’re gonna have to give daily reports on what happens there, since we don’t have a correspondent anymore. Got it? We’ll give further directions as events unfold.”
“Understood.” replied Alison.
“Wonderful.” he said in a deadpan tone before ending the communication.
Alison turned to the rest of us.
Greyson jeered, “Well, that was loads of help!”
Alison ignored him and thought for a while, her brow scrunched.
She abruptly addressed us. “Y’know what? I’m gonna need you guys to go out and kill one of those creatures for me to dissect.”
Spero’s eyes widened. “No, no, no,” he objected. “You don’t understand. I never wanna see another one of those things again. One encounter is more than enough.”
“I’m sorry, but you’ll need as many people as you can get.” Alison responded. “Who knows how many of those things are out there or what they’re even capable of.”
Spero spends a while running his hands through his hair. Finally, he gave a resigned sigh. “Ok.” He muttered.
We all stood outside of the ship, the blue sun within the hour of setting. Each of us was armed with a dinky pistol from the ship. They worked in a way that made it similar to a laser. It shot normal bullets, but they were heated to extreme temperatures as they left the barrel of the gun. The gun itself was clunky, heavy, old and dusty.
Greyson inspected his weapon. “Junk.” He mumbled.
We embarked on the journey through the dense forest. Dew droplets covered almost every leaf and tendril. A fog had just been through. All we could hear were the soft landings of our feet. Our breath came from our mouths and noses as clouds of condensation. The colossal trees began to thin out, and soon enough, the expansive beach was before us. We stopped at the fringe of the forest.
“Stick together,” whispered Cure. “We don’t want one of us getting dragged off.”
I gripped my gun until my knuckles turned white. I took in as much of the bracing air into my lungs as I could before I slowly let it out.
“Here we go.” I told myself.
One by one, we tread out onto the sand. Footfalls a soft crunch as each of us stepped upon alien powder. I felt my heart expand and contract in my chest, gradually getting faster. A bead of sweat raced down my face despite the biting cold. The pale blue sun was halfway through its steady crawl behind the horizon. I look down to my hands. They’re trembling. I shift my gaze to my fellows. Each one’s face is flushed. Spero is hyperventilating and struggling to keep quiet. The environment was serene, unmoving. Every crunch of every step of our boots in the rust–colored sand was crisp and clear. My sweat loosens my grip on my gun. In my mind I go over Spero’s description of the creatures. Scales. Claws. Fangs. Dark, soulless eyes. I shiver. The cold stabbed my skin. The light wind blew softly, barely moving my hair. I surveyed the fine sand below my feet. In an instant, the serene tranquility of the world was shattered by shouting and screaming. I jolt my head towards the origin of the cry, and see Charles lying on the ground, grasping for something to hold on to. I squint, but there didn’t seem to be a threat. Until I shifted my eyes to his leg. There, I saw claws reaching from under the sand, clutching Charles’ leg. By then, Greyson and Cure had already rushed to help him, immediately grabbing his hands.
“Help!” He howled, a look of pure fear on his face.
Cure turned to me. “Quit staring! Get over here!”
I come to my senses and sprint to them. I hold Charles underneath the armpits and pull and hard as I can. Soon, Alison and Spero had come to help. As we put in more effort, more and more of the creature surfaced from the sand.
“You keep pulling!” Cure shouted. “I’m gonna shoot this sucker.”
She yanked her gun out and shot the scaly body emerging from the sand. The shriek emitted from the writhing creature pierced the air and caught us off guard. We pulled ourselves together and heaved the creature out of the sand. There was a searing bullet hole in its side, and it still clenched Charles’ leg. Before it could do anything else, Cure aimed a shot directly at its head and fired. The creature fell limp. We all let go of Charles and let out breaths of enormous relief.
We all stood panting while Charles barks, “Is no one going to help me up?”
“You’re welcome.” Cure retorted.
Spero gave Charles his hand and brought him up. He supported Charles on his shoulder while he dusted himself off.
“That damn thing tore up my leg.” Charles groaned, staring at the creature’s corpse with disdain.
Charles began limping away, back into the forest, leaning on Spero.
“You need a tourniquet!” Alison called to Charles. He stopped and waited while she tore off part of her sleeve to temporarily treat his wound.
Greyson knelt over and prodded the carcass with the butt of his gun. “Who’s the lucky person that has to carry this thing back?”
Everyone shifts their gaze to me. I roll my eyes. “Wonderful,” I hissed.
I stoop down and drape the creature over my shoulder. I shiver as it brushes against me. I make sure the head is behind me, and I hold it by its arms. I prepare myself for the hike I am about to take with this thing on my shoulder.
I trudge into the operating room with Alison. I drop the creature’s limp body on the operating table, and it lands with a thud.
“Ugh,” I grimaced. “That thing smells awful.” My nose scrunched up.
“You can go now.” replied Alison.
I was laying in my bed the next morning, exhausted from the previous night. I’m startled by a loud thump I hear from the other side of the ship. I lazily threw on clothes and begin plodding my way to the origin of the noise. By the time I find it, Cure is already there. She is kneeling over Charles, who is unconscious.
Cure abruptly turned her head to me and ordered, “Go get Alison.”
I begin plodding out the door.
“Hurry up!” She yells to me.
Alison dashes into the room. “What happened?”
Cure steps back and replies, “I found him like this.”
Alison examines Charles. She begins to take off the bandages wrapped around his leg. When they fell off and revealed Charles’ leg underneath, Cure gasped. His veins had turned a sickening shade of green around where he had been clawed.
“Oh no.” Alison stammered. “This is what I feared would happen.”
“What the hell is that?” Cure exclaimed.
“I’ll explain later,” replied Alison. “We have to get him to the operating room.”
Charles lay sprawled out on a cold, metal operating table adjacent to the one the creature was taking up.
Alison addressed me, “C’mere. I gotta show you this.”
I find myself gazing at a huge incision running down the belly of the creature. The end of its snake–like body hung over the edge of the table. I stared into its open corpse to see a mess of sinews, unidentifiable organs, and a viscous green liquid. Alison dug through a pile of surgical tools until she procured a small scalpel. She snapped on latex gloves and began to poke around the cavity in the creature. The squelching and squishing noises made it hard for me to contain the contents of my stomach.
“Did you want to show me something, or did you just want to gross me out?” I asked.
Alison didn’t pay attention. “Here,” she announced. “Come in closer.”
I brought myself as close as I could until my face scrunched up. I took my shirt and held it against my nose. I tried my best to hide the gag. She took her scalpel and prodded a fist–sized, veiny organ.
“See this?” Alison explained. “This is filled with that green substance.”
“Is that what’s in Charles’ leg?” I questioned.
“Exactly,” answered Alison. “I think it may be a kind of poison. Whatever it is, it definitely isn’t good.”
“This creature really is fascinating,” she mused. “I can’t begin to name half of what goes on in that thing’s body.”
I let her words sink in while I gaze into the open creature. How smart was it? What did it care about? Did it see the same world we did? All the questions bounced and ricocheted through my head as I blankly stared at the heap of unfamiliar organs.
“You can leave now.” She broke my trance.
The next day, Charles trudges into the mess hall wearing sterile white clothes from the ward.
“Look who’s back,” Cure welcomed.
“You look great,” Greyson jested.
Charles mumbles back something incoherent and drops himself into a chair. He thuds his elbow onto the table and rests his head in his hand. He was hunched over and his hair was disheveled and messy. The paleness of his face accentuated his baggy eyes that were staring off into nothing.
“How are you feeling?” Cure inquires.
The question didn’t even seem to reach Charles.
Cure continued asking. “Hello? Are you alright?”
Charles blinked a few times before he slowly turned his head to Cure.
“Huh?” He responded with a horrible rasp in his throat.
Cure enunciated her words more carefully. “How are you doing?”
“Oh, just fine.” Charles mumbled.
He couldn’t mutter anything else before Alison threw the doors open and burst into the room. She locks onto Charles.
“There you are,” She exclaimed. “You have to get back to the ward. Let’s go.” She grabs him by the arm and lifts him from his seat.
While she was pulling him through the doorway, Cure called out to her.
“Is he ok?” She worried.
Alison sighed. “I’m doing my best, but he’s incredibly sick. I don’t think he even knows where he is. I’m finding more about the poison every day.”
Later, we’ve all gathered in the bridge for another meeting with the government, once again with Alison representing us. Doing this again reminded me of the first time, when we were put in contact with the sleep–deprived cubicle worker. Although, it was different this time around. When the connection had been established, the wide display screen at the front of the room showed someone sitting at a large and expensive desk who looked important, showing that we had at least gained some priority. His hands were folded on his desk.
“Greetings.” His voice had a commanding baritone.
“Greetings,” Alison responded. “Have you received my reports on the alien life form?”
He answered with a maintained stony look on his face, “Indeed we have. We will put your findings to great use.”
“What are your instructions regarding these aliens?” Alison asks.
“Until further notice, you are to deal with them in whatever fashion you deem necessary,” he replies. “We have spent far too many resources and made too much progress to be stopped now. You have your orders. You will return to The Mobius Ark for transport back to Earth when it next enters orbit around Solus.”
Alison nods. “Understood.”
The crew is stunned. Questions race in my head: mostly, why in hell are we quitting this mission? What about our colony? Our work?
The Director droned on. “Until then, maintain regular reports on findings and progress.”
“Understood.” Alison repeats.
The Director flashes a quick, fake smile. “Wonderful. The best of luck to you all,” he concludes before cutting off the transmission.
“Whatever fashion we deem necessary. . .” Greyson mumbled, his voice rising in volume. “What great help they’re being!” His face turns red. “They’ve killed one of us and made another awfully sick, and we just have to deal with them without any help.”
Uneasy, the crew left to privately discuss what exactly the government is doing to, rather than for us. Typical on a colony ship like Mobius—the crew, well, we can be expendable.
That night, I couldn’t sleep. I felt every moment I closed my eyes the walls would close in on me. I reflected on what I left behind. The broken home and the rotten Earth. Was it worth it? Was this any better? This new, fresh world was seeming less and less like a Garden of Eden. Did I make the right choice? The questions haunted me through the night.
In the mess hall the next morning, I yawned and dropped myself into a seat. Everyone except Alison and Charles was seated and eating. Barely any noise was made. I couldn’t stand the silence much longer. I broke it with a question. “Why are all of you here?”
Cure deliberated a moment before answering, “I felt that it was my duty. To take part in the exploration that would lead to us finding a new home and leaving behind our desecrated planet.”
“What a glorious savior of the people you are.” Greyson muttered, just loud enough for Cure to hear.
“I’d like to hear your reason for being here,” she retorted.
Greyson scoffed. “I don’t have to tell you anything.” He continued to scarf down the rest of his food. Cure let out an exasperated sigh. She nonchalantly cocked her head in my direction. “Well? How about you, kid?”
“Me?” I responded. “There was nothing for me on Earth. I had to get out of there.”
“Care to provide any more details?” She questioned, raising an eyebrow.
“Not particularly.” I reply. As I finish my sentence, Alison once again interrupts with a grand entrance. She placed herself in a seat at our table dramatically.
“Have you devoted any more thought to this alien situation? What ‘fashion’ do you deem necessary? Are we thinking capture?” she asked.
Greyson was the first to speak up after wiping food from his face. “The way I see it, these creatures have caused us too much harm to go unpunished. We’re not gonna make any progress if we don’t do something.”
Cure butts in. “So you want to kill them all.”
Greyson slams his hands on the table, rattling the silverware. “We can’t exactly ask them politely. We don’t have any more options. What do you propose, then?”
Cure kept her cool and responded calmly. “I’m proposing we learn more about these creatures. We have no clue what we’re getting ourselves into. We could be poking a bear with a very short stick.”
“You want to stand by and do nothing while they kill more and more of us? They’ve already proven that they’re dangerous, what more could you possibly need?”
“Now hold on,” Spero interjects. “Who knows how many of those things there are? We could be dealing with thousands. Do you expect us to do that with just our puny little pistols?”
Greyson began to think, scratching his chin.
“He’s right, Greyson.” I tell him.
“There’s got to be something else,” he mumbles.
Alison releases a resigned sigh, drawing all of our attention. “Look,” She confessed, “I’ve been doing some research. Analyzing this thing.” She paused.
Greyson raised his eyebrows and leaned in. “And?”
Her eyes closed and her brow furrowed. “I found a way to kill them.”
“How?” Greyson interrogated.
“I’m not prepared to tell you.” Alison responds calmly.
“What the hell do you mean?” Greyson yells.
“Listen, I don’t think it’s right. We can’t just come here and kill a whole species. It’s immoral,” she explained.
“They’re trying to kill us! Don’t we want to protect ourselves?” snapped Greyson.
“That doesn’t mean we have to eradicate them entirely.” Alison replies.
“It’s true,” Cure interjects. “There have to be alternatives.”
I surmise there is some diabolic, covert mission here. Capture and retrieval, and I want to expose it somehow but the fight is on.
Greyson raises his voice. “I can’t believe what I’m hearing. You’re sympathizing with these creatures that have poisoned and killed us.”
Cure stands up, indignant. “You don’t think I want to protect myself?”
Greyson raises his voice higher and responds in an accusing tone. “It doesn’t sound like you do!”
The room erupted, each person shouting and slamming fists, drowning each other out with insults and arguments. I decided I had had enough and snuck out the door, trying not to catch the attention of my bickering crewmates. I wandered through the empty hall of our explorer spaceship–turned–exploration base. I needed some space. Time to think and clear my head. The crew had made logical and passionate arguments, and I wasn’t sure where I stood. The amazing feeling of being on a new planet was quickly being replaced by confusion, fear, and anger. I found myself alone on the bridge, and I sat at my station. Immediately, the view screen came on and I recognized the stony–faced man behind his desk.
“You need to take to take control of this situation.”
How do they know what’s going on? Are they listening to us? Are we bugged? Is there any privacy aboard this ship?
“What do you mean?”
Without changing his expression, he explained, “We are interested in the life form that you and your crew have discovered on this planet. We need you to secure one of these creatures. Two of them would be better, but one will suffice.”
I respond, “How am I supposed to do that? No one agrees–” I realized he already knew about the debate going on in the lab. His face did not change.
“Why me?” I asked instead, but I already believed I had the answer. I was still on the fence. I knew where Alison and Greyson stood and how they would vote, and The Director wanted me to convince them or break a tie vote in his favor.
As if he read my mind, The Director’s baritone commanded me, “Forget what the crew believes or feels. We need this creature. In seventy–two hours, an Agent we have dispatched will arrive and take command. I trust that within those seventy–two hours, you will have done your job.”
“How is this Agent arriving so quickly?”
The Director replied, “We’re using a new prototype ultra–sonic engine to deliver him. You will follow all of his orders and this mission will be a success.”
“And what am I supposed to–”
The communication was abruptly terminated. I slam my fist on the control panel.
This really complicates matters. I got up from the seat and head back to the mess. As I continue my approach, I can still hear the muffled shouting of my crewmates. As I throw the doors open, I am slammed with an uproarious wall of sound, but everyone was oblivious to my entrance.
“Hey!” I screamed, competing with everyone else in the room. They all turned their attention to me. “Okay. I’ve had a thought. We need to obtain a specimen of this creature.”
Greyson scoffs. “Are you high, kid? We’ve already got one. Since when are you a company man?”
I reply, “I’m well aware. What I’m proposing is that we get one alive.”
Greyson’s face flushed. “You what?”
“You heard me.” I replied.
Greyson looked at me as though I was deranged.
I continued, “Look, we’ve learned all that we can from a dead one. The next logical step is to procure a living specimen.”
Alison chimed in, “I’m inclined to agree. Yes, I’ve figured out a way to wipe these things out. But as I’ve repeated over and over, I’m not about to have the guilt of the murder of an entire species on my conscience. I will not be guilty of genocide. Perhaps you’re right. If I could study these things more, I might be able to figure out a way to sedate or neutralize them. Something that doesn’t kill them all.”
“And hopefully something that won’t get us killed in the process,” Cure finished for her.
Spero inquired, “But is it worth the risk?”
Greyson answered for me in a hysterical tone. “Of course not! It’d kill us all! Are you insane?”
I remain levelheaded and reply, “No, I’m not. We need more info. A behavioral analysis. We can’t act until we know more. We get a live one and decide what’s next.”
Alison broke in, “I hate to break the news to you all, but we’re probably going to need more than one. Two would be best.”
That solves that problem. I was just going to present that suggestion.
I looked at Alison, and she looked back.
Did she receive the same orders?
“Are you two seriously suggesting that we attempt to catch not one, but two of these creatures? You do remember what happened to The Suit?” asked Spero.
I put my hand on Spero’s shoulder. “Come on, buddy. Look at this as an engineering problem. Remember? Like the ones they gave us in training. You’re up for the challenge, right? Here’s the puzzle: how do we catch a hostile species given the materials on board our ship? And how are we gonna transport it back to Mobius?”
Spero rubbed his chin. “Without killing it? Maybe I could rig up one of the hydroponic greenhouse globes to trap one in.”
“Like the ones we have in storage?” I asked. “Now you’re thinking, Spero.”
“Yes,” agreed Alison. “Not only could I observe it, but I would be able to test different sedation formulas on it and observe it.”
We might actually pull this off.
“That confirms it. You have all gone completely insane. Why don’t we try communicating with it, too? You could teach it sign language, Cure, and we could all become best friends and sit around and sing alien centipede love songs,” Greyson censured.
Alison threw him a nasty look.
“Shall we put it to a vote?” I said, menacingly.
And it was decided. Greyson was outvoted because we had convinced Spero to join our cause. I wondered if I would regret this manipulation of my crew. I had a nagging worry that Greyson could be right. If Spero failed to deliver on his makeshift alien containment trap, one or all of us could be killed. We gave Spero 24 hours to come up with a working trap. Alison offered to help him. Cure went off to check on Charles. Greyson went sulking in some part of the ship. Good, I thought as he stomped off. I hope he keeps himself busy. I figured that maybe I should try to contact The Director and let him know how we were progressing. As the doors open and I walk in, I see Cure leaving through the room’s other entrance. I sit down in front of the console, punch in a few commands, and prepare to communicate with The Director. I wait for a response, but I get nothing. I continue my attempts in vain. Nobody answers. I slam my fist on the console. Why isn’t The Director answering me? Doesn’t he know how stressful this is? It’s gonna take a lot of improvisation and guesswork without any instruction from him.
I check in on Spero and Alison, hard at work. In the center of the room lies a human–height translucent sphere. I recognized it from the training we received. These globes functioned as a greenhouse. The inner surfaces of the globes are covered in plants, with an opening for people to reach inside. Although, this sphere was devoid of plants, and the opening was much larger. Spero noticed I had entered and greeted me.
“Hey,” he welcomed. “Alison and I are almost finished.”
Just then, Greyson entered the lab. “Well, look at that glorified hamster ball.” Greyson examined some of the machinery outside the makeshift trap. “Are you three gonna get in that and run away as the aliens try to eat you?” Spero dropped his shoulders dejectedly.
Alison snapped, “Be quiet, Greyson. If you’re so keen on staying alive, why don’t you offer some constructive criticism rather than ridicule our efforts.”
“I’ve got a suggestion for you,” Greyson replied quietly. “Bring lots of sidearms. That way, you have a backup when the ‘Pedes try to eat you.”
“What the hell is that?” I asked.
Greyson shrugged. “We gotta call ‘em something.”
“Not ‘Pedes’” scoffed Alison. “It sounds stupid and juvenile.”
“How about ‘creeders’? Cure timidly offered.
“No,” I said, “too back–woodsy.”
“Well, they resemble Earth’s centipedes in some respects, but I’ve noticed some similarities to reptiles, snake–like characteristics. I don’t know. I guess they’re more like insects than anything.”
I could tell Alison was in overthinking biologist mode.
“Sand mites?” I suggested. “Smites for short?”
“Hey, I like that,” Cure smiled.
Alison nodded. Greyson scowled. “I don’t care what you call them. Except dead. I still think if we’re going to live on this rock in any safety, we should eradicate them.”
“No, Greyson,” I answered. “We have a plan and are going through with it. We are going to be prudent here and find out what we can. Killing an entire species can do unforeseen and huge bad things to ecosystems. Stand down and get out of our way or help us out.”
I like Greyson. He’s my friend, but he’s out of line here. I’ll try to talk to him and convince him that this is the best way.
Greyson says, “Give me one reason why I should help you out.”
“Because I need you to help keep everyone alive,” I responded.
Greyson retorted, “You all can keep yourselves alive. Good luck.” And with that, he left.
I sighed. “Alison, how long until the trap is ready?”
Spero cut in. “Give us five more hours, and we should be ready.” Alison nodded.
“Good.” I said, “That’ll give me a chance to talk some sense into Greyson and get him on our side. We’re gonna need him.” I move to leave the room and looked back at the group.
“I hope this works.” For all of our sakes, it’d better work. And I could see the look of concern in their faces. I turned to the exit to catch up with Greyson.
Greyson was in his cabin, lounging on his bunk. In his hands is his sonic axe, a fancy and sleek composite guitar made for space travel. He glances at me standing in the doorway before launching into a roaring, buzzing riff.
“How’d you get that onboard?’ I yell above his noise.
“My special requisition,” he yelled back, punctuated by another series of ringing, distorted notes filling the cabin and echoing down the hall.
I folded my arms and nodded and let Greyson play. I knew he must have been angry by the thunderous music coming from the instrument.
He finally stopped and looked up at me.
“What do you want?” He demanded.
God, he’s like an angsty teenager.
“To convince you that this plan is going to work. We need you, Greyson. You’re our best fighter. With you protecting us, we stand a better chance.”
He jumped up from his bunk and pointed a finger at me.
“How am I going to keep everyone alive? These things can tunnel faster than we run. We know nothing about them, except that they kill us.”
“That isn’t true,” I countered, raising my voice, “we know more than that and Charles isn’t dead.”
“Isn’t dead yet,” Greyson replied testily, “but Cure told me he isn’t doing well. All you care about is keeping Alison happy and profiting from these things somehow and who knows what else!”
“That’s not true either!” I yelled back. Now I was getting angry. “I AM trying to PROTECT us. You don’t know what I’m doing.”
“I don’t think you know what you’re doing,” Greyson said, folding his arms.
“No, Greyson, it’s you who doesn’t know what is happening, just like always. You never look before you jump. I used to admire you for your courage and daring but I’ve also been saving you from yourself ever since training.” I could tell from his surprised look I had struck a nerve, so I played my best and only card.
“Do you know I’ve been in contact with the Director?”
“What?”
“Yes, right after we made contact with the smites, I got a call from Earth. They’re the ones insisting we capture not one but two of these things. They are playing some game–with our lives! I’m trying to figure out what that game is and beat them at it. At the least, I’m trying to keep us all alive.”
Greyson shook his head and sat down on his bunk.
“Who else knows? Alison?”
“No. Maybe. I’ve only just told you. Though I suspect that Alison is also in contact. Probably why she is so keen on my new plan. But I haven’t told any of you all of it.”
Greyson sat in thought for a while.
“What do you need me to do?”
I put a hand on his shoulder.
“I’m going to need my friend to watch my back and support my plan. You have to trust me.”
Greyson looked at me and scowled.
“Because I have one more bomb to drop on this situation. An Agent is coming here.”
“What? When . . . better yet, why?”
“I’ve been wondering why for some time now. The Director told me the Agent is far–flinging it out here in some light speed rocket. Should arrive any day to,” here I made air quotes, “take over the situation.”
“But what really bothers me,” I continued, “Is the timing.”
“Oh,” Greyson caught on, “Did they send this thug when we discovered aliens—”
“—or before?” I finished his question.
Greyson scowled again.
“So, the smites aren’t the only danger we have to worry about?”
“No,” I said, shaking my head, “they are not.”
He stood and looked me in the eye.
“Tell me your whole plan,” he said seriously, “I will help you every way I can.”
The next morning Alison and Spero finished the alien trap. Greyson was on board with my plan. I watched him as we suited up and hoped I could trust him. I gave him all my information and plans and if he was actually with the Agency it could mean the end of me and the crew. As he holstered his gun, I said, “The best of luck to us.”
Greyson smirked. “This’d better go well.”
As he finishes speaking, Alison, Spero and Cure hustle out of the open bay doors, rolling the greenhouse–turned–trap down the ramp. We take turns rolling it through the dense forest until after seemingly forever, we reach the ominous and solemn beach. We were all silent as fear and anxiousness overtook each of us. As the trap slowly rolled onto the beach, the sand crunched underneath it. We took careful steps, trying to make as little impact in the sand as possible. In the middle of the beach, we stopped. Spero pulled out a battered makeshift remote control and flipped a switch on it. A large opening appeared in the globe. I took a long, drawn–out breath. Here we go. Greyson was tense. He moved with a certain solemnity, yet very intently. He was ready for the worst. We were about to retreat back to the woods when next to me, Cure fell straight down into the sand. This time, the creature had almost fully emerged from the sand to drag her down with it. Cure rapidly sunk into the sand, her screams becoming muffled as her head was submerged.
Greyson jolted around after hearing Cure’s screams, and immediately did something I thought I’d never see. He sprinted to the rust–colored, scaly creature and tackled it. The creature hissed and fought back. It scratched and tore at him with malicious claws. He relentlessly continued his pounding punches, until the creature lay limp in the sand. When he finally realized the creature was unconscious, he fell back, panting, coated in his own blood and the green substance from the creature. We were all speechless. I glanced to everyone else, who were all in awe at what they witnessed. Spero rushed over and quickly picked up the creature and stuffed it into the open trap. He pulled out his device and shut the opening.
I went to help Greyson up and take him back to the ship. His clothes looked like they had been through a paper shredder. His hair looked like a disheveled bird’s nest and his face and clothes were stained with blood like spilled wine. He sits up, and I reach my hand out to him. He accepts it, and I drag him up. I support him on my shoulder, and I noticed his body was littered with gashes and cuts. We all began the journey through the forest once more, Spero and Alison rolling the captive creature behind us. No one said a single word for the whole trek, but some of us cried.
I came to visit Greyson in the ward. It seemed he had recovered very quickly.
“You’re looking much better.” I remarked.
Alison butted in from across the room, “You can thank me for that. I’m pretty sure I’ve found a way to circumvent and cure the creature’s poison.”
I look to Greyson, sitting on the edge of the bed. He gave me a pained half–smile.
“I guess this is the part where you say, ‘I told you so.’” I sighed, preparing myself to be berated and shot with bullets of insults and accusations.
He deliberated for a moment before saying, “No, it’s not your fault.”
We sat in awkward silence for a moment, both reflecting on what we’ve been through. Alison leaves the room, and Greyson leans into me.
“So,” he whispered. “When is your agent buddy paying us a visit?”
I took a moment to register what he asked. Then, I hit myself on the head with the palm of my hand. “Oh, crap. It slipped my mind. He should be here today with whatever entourage he’s bringing. We’ve gotta go meet him. Come on.” I hop up from my seat like it was on fire and sprint out the door, rushing to gather everyone. I dash through the hallways, my shouting reverberating through them into each room and whatever ears they could find.
“Everyone! Get out to the courtyard!” I called. As I leaped out of the bay doors, I landed and stopped to rest. As I was catching my breath, my crewmates, one by one, came out with confusion. The only one that wasn’t surprised was Greyson, of course.
“What is it? Is someone hurt?” Alison urgently pressed.
“Trust me, I’ll explain later,” I hastily reply. “For now, just follow me.” I lead them into the woods.
We stood on a hill overlooking a brown and green lake surrounded by tall reeds. A few small, feathered creatures resembling birds were diving into the water. I say they were like Earth birds except they had six legs and looked more like a feathered insect. Every so often, they would grab some wriggling creature from the water and carry it off to the reeds.
We watched in silence as Nature on this planet showed itself to be so much like what we knew from home. Watching bigger creatures eat smaller creatures, the way Nature always seemed to work, did nothing to ease my sorrow at losing Cure. I began to doubt my plan, my schemes, and my pushing the crew toward my goal.
I looked over at Alison and Greyson. My two friends. They both hated each other now. Would we lose anyone else before this was over?
Spero began scanning the horizon with our beam binoculars, then pointed far above. A small white object was entering the upper atmosphere and left a contrail streak behind it.
“He’ll be here soon.” Greyson observed.
“Yes, about fifteen ticks or so according to the GPS guider.” Spero confirmed.
“What are we telling him?” Alison asked.
“I’m not sure we’re going to tell him anything,” Greyson said sarcastically, “he’ll probably have a cargo ton of orders for us though.”
“We’re going to keep our heads and stick to the plan. Our survival comes first.”
“I don’t think you’ve thought this through,” said Alison, “going against the Agency, taking on an Agent is foolish. Don’t you think they’re going to send more Agents here once you’ve had your little rebellion? Probably even soldiers? Once this becomes a mil–op, we’re done. We’ll probably spend the rest of our days in some orbiting prison, or worse, left on some barren moon.”
Greyson sighed loudly. “Give it a rest, Alison. We can’t let them take this planet, these aliens, or take us. I, for one, am going to do what I have to and stop them.”
“Stop, you two, this is getting us nowhere. Keep calm until we can figure out what this Agent wants. Maybe we just give him the smite and then we get left alone. I’m hoping it goes down that way and no one else gets hurt. Look sharp, people, here he is.”
The sleek silver ship boomed into view overhead. Landing gear emerged from gusting thrusters as the Agency craft slowly descended.
“Much more advanced than our tub,” Spero sighed.
“You’re jealous,” Greyson teased.
“We were lucky we made it here in our ship,” Spero answered. “I’ll bet a week of dessert that hotrod does better than lightspeed by a factor.”
“I’ll take that action,” Greyson laughed.
“If I’m right, you’ll lose,” I said quietly. They all looked at me, but no one could ask why because the Agent’s ship was in final landing mode at the far end of the hill and the noise and whine of the engines prevented further conversation.
After landing, the noise subsided and a hatch opened, dropping a ladder to the ground. At the other end of the ship, a larger cargo door hissed open, and a Colonizer tracked out. Double the size of a bus, a Colonizer was part tank, part cargo transport. It could carry 30 humans and a small herd of cattle or several small hovercycles. It was truly an all–terrain, all–purpose vehicle and I knew the Agency used them not only for terraforming, rescue, and science, but for battle.
Spero whistled. “Look at that beauty. Now that’s what we need.”
The Colonizer ground to a halt, leaving torn ground in its tracked path. A man descended the ship’s ladder at the same time. He was a hulk, too. Broad shouldered and muscled even beneath his Agent’s uniform. He must have been at least seven feet tall. I would not want to wrestle him, I thought, or meet him in a dark alley. The Agent’s military style crew–cut was probably the least menacing thing about him.
“Hello, buckeroo,” Greyson grinned and held out his hand for a shake, “welcome to the Planet Funhouse.”
The Agent regarded Greyson for a moment then scowled at him as if he were an insect buzzing around a picnic. He turned his attention to the rest of us, ignoring Greyson.
“Who is in charge here?” the Agent demanded.
Before anyone could speak, Greyson dropped his hand and stepped up to the Agent.
“I’m Greyson and I am in command.”
“Wrong.” The Agent returned his stare down to Greyson. “I know who you are, Gunner, and I will not use your nickname, pet name, or given name. Only your Agency designation.”
The Agent looked around and addressed all of us.
“I am in charge here now. I have come to take control of this operation. Biologist, report on the status of the Medic.”
Alison stepped up. “Cure . . . um, the Medic, she’s uh . . . uh.” Alison was clearly upset. Either Cure or the Agent has got her rattled, I thought.
“She’s been incapacitated, Agent, killed by the smites,” answered Spero.
“You will keep quiet, Engineer, until I order. Let the Biologist answer.” He turned to Alison.
“Now hold on just a minute here!” Greyson put his hands on his hips and the Agent’s eyes went from Alison to Greyson to Greyson’s hands. On his hips were one of our laser pistols. The whine of an energy weapon powering up made us all turn. From atop the Colonizer, a helmeted Tactician had a double–barreled HR2300 blast cannon pointed at Greyson’s back. A grin crossed her face.
“Keep your hands where I can see them, Gunner,” the Agent quietly ordered.
This is too tense, I thought, and gonna go bad quick. I was about to step in, wondering if I could get to the Agent before the cannon cut me in half. Another person emerged from the ship and began to climb down the ladder. She had long dark hair, pulled back into a braid. Her uniform designated her as a Xenologist, basically an alien scientist and a rare profession in the Agency. She walked up between the Agent and Greyson and looked at the Agent, who nodded. The Xenologist walked over to Greyson who had his hands, palms up at his sides where they were in plain view. She reached slowly for his pistol and whispered at him, “Take it easy, honey. You’ll be just fine.”
She turned and stood next to the Agent, pointing the pistol in the air with her other hand on her hip like she was no stranger to sidearms. The tension still lingered but I saw my chance to move this along.
“If I may, sir, perhaps we should meet on our ship so we can examine the alien we have captured? I believe the smite, as we call it, is of great importance or you wouldn’t be here.”
The Agent said, “Yes. Lead the way. We’ll have no more problems.”
As everyone seemed to take a breath and the mood shifted, we moved without talking from the hill toward our basecamp and ship, I felt unsure about the Agent’s arrival. That wasn’t the best meeting, but it could have certainly been worse.
We had all convened outside of the room that had been converted into an alien containment chamber. The creature was still a rat in a cage, confined in the makeshift trap, but it was also inside the room with the blast doors shut like a safe. It was fully conscious and occasionally, it would throw its weight against the edge of the globe, jolting it in that direction. We all stood, eyes glued to the creature, staring at it through the reinforced glass.
“Fascinating.” mused the Xenologist.
Everyone remained silent except the Agent who grunted.
Alison explained. “I’ve been running some tests. Seeing how it responds to stimuli. Giving the rat cheese and seeing if it follows. It doesn’t see anything like we do. Those things that look like eyes don’t function like them. They act like radar, sending out signals to see what’s out there in the sand.”
I look at the dark, empty pits of the creature’s “eyes.” They seem to penetrate deep within my soul with the intent to tear me to shreds. A shiver runs down my spine.
The Tactician, with her helmet in her hands, revealing a military crew–cut just like the agent and a scar running down her face remarked, “Look at that thing.”
The Agent speaks up, “Where is the Surveyor?”
“You mean Charles?” Alison responded. “He’s been poisoned by the creatures and is incredibly sick.”
“Show me.”
We entered the Med Bay and Charles was dead. The green poison had spread in his veins like green spider webs. Alison broke down.
“No,” she sobbed, “I did my best. First Cure, now Charles.”
“Snap to, Biologist,” barked the Agent, “I need that alien secured and your trap reset. We are securing another and then evacuating immediately.”
“What about our crew? Shouldn’t we retrieve their bodies? Shouldn’t we bury them?”
“Immediately,” He repeated, turning with the Tactician and leaving us behind to stare at our crew mate. I didn’t want to argue anymore, going off the fact that they could easily arrest me or beat me to a pulp.
The crew and I begrudgingly led the Agent and his entourage to the beaches that we knew were killing grounds to capture yet another creature. The trip through the woods that we had made so many times became automatic and grilled in our brains. I noticed the agent was carrying a large cylindrical container on his back. The lid was covered with an assortment of buttons and switches. They came prepared. They brought their own little lunchbox. We eventually reached the beach that had become all too familiar. I pondered for a moment on the fact that this is probably the last time I’d ever see this beach. Once they get their creature, they’ll take us off this rock, and, unless they’re insane, will never send us back. I took it all in, and it appears my crewmates were doing the same. We stood in a line at the fringe of the forest and the beach, gazing out to the horizon at the pale blue sun.
As we stayed behind, the Agent went ahead to place the trap.
“Tread lightly,” cautioned Alison. “We think they may detect our footsteps through the sand.”
The Agent seemed to completely ignore her advice as he stomped across the beach and heavy–handedly dropped the trap down. He slammed a glowing red button on the top and the trap opened with a hydraulic whir. The Agent plodded back to the edge of the forest, and we all remained waiting.
The Agent quickly got impatient. “I don’t see any bugs.” He remarked.
“Cool your jets.” Spero replied. “They’ll come. You have to be patient. Unless you want to go out there and rile them up.”
I looked to everyone standing with me and I realized I was the only one who wasn’t armed. Smart. The Tactician was just as impatient.
“Are we gonna stand here all day?” she asked, hands on her hips. She couldn’t even finish her sentence before the quiet rustling of shifting sand began. We all averted our attention, and there it finally was. A creature emerging from the sand. It slowly approached the canister. It seemed apprehensive. It stared the container down like a cowboy in a draw. The Agent let out a quick breath and began to hustle down to the trap.
“What the hell are you doing?” Alison called out to him. He once again ignored her, continuing to approach the alien until he picked it up with his massive hands and wrestled it into the container. He smacked the button on the top, and the door closed with a hiss. He raised the container above his head and shook it in a celebratory fashion. The creature rattled around in it and a muffled hiss came through.
“What are you thinking?” Alison shouted incredulously.
The Agent responded frankly after shrugging, “I got bored.”
“Get back here.” The Xenologist sternly ordered.
As the Agent began plodding back to our group, we heard a faint rumbling in our ears. At first, nobody noticed it. But it slowly grew. The raucous rumbling grew to a tumult until we felt the ground shaking. Then, to our dismay, the creatures began arising from the sand. One by one, crawling out of the ground, shifting the sand. Each one that emerged added to the pandemonium of hissing and screeching. Several of them were already clawing at the Agent, who was ferociously fighting them off. He grabbed them from his shoulder and catapulted them off, over and over, while the aliens did not relent.
The Tactician quickly threw her helmet on, pulled out her rifle, and opened fire on the aliens while slowly advancing. The Agent dragged his way through the aliens, trying to make his way back to the forest. Then the Tactician screamed. Chaos broke over the beach. Sand flew everywhere, making it nearly impossible to see and the increasing sounds of clicking mandibles of the creatures was frightening. How many are there? I wondered in a panic. I saw the Tactician pulled under, along with Spero, and I frantically searched for Alison and Greyson.
Then, I saw Greyson fighting off swarms of aliens with his pistol as he moved to retreat to the forest. He suddenly lurched to the ground and was being dragged under the sand. I try to get my wits about me and rush over to him. I clenched his arm and as hard as I could.
“I can’t get you out!” I shouted above the clamor.
“It’s ok.” responded Greyson. “Just let me go.”
“There’s no way in hell I’m letting you go.”
Greyson replied, “You’d better if you want to live. At least one of us should get out of here alive.”
I think for a moment, but the moment was cut short by the onslaught of aliens.
“It was a pleasure serving with you.” I bid him farewell.
“Likewise.” he says, saluting me with his free arm. And with that, I left him to the swarm. As I turned into the forest, I was caught by surprise by the trap, which seemed to fall from the sky and land with a heavy thud next to me. I look back to where it came from. It must be the Agent’s last–ditch attempt to get the creature back to Earth. I stare at it for a second before the calls of the Xenologist catch my ear.
“Get out of here!” she shouted, losing her fight with the swarm. “Take the specimen with you!” I pick it up and sling it across my back. I shoot my eyes back to where the Xenologist was, and she was gone. As I begin to rush to the forest, I notice Alison yelling at me.
“Come on!” she said, beckoning. As I entered the forest with her, I realize the swarm is still chasing us. I pick up my speed, hearing the alien on my back rattle. Alison was sprinting next to me. Everything was going by in a green blur. Then Alison tripped on a root, and the creatures quickly caught up to her. I shouted for her, but she was already too far gone. I started to enter a manic dash, a rush of adrenaline fueling my race back to the ship. Eventually, the field that held our ship came into view. I headed to the ship that had carried the Agent and his team here. I get the bay doors open, and rush inside. As I stood in the cargo bay panting on my hands and knees, I notice the globe containing the first alien was already loaded. They were itching to get these things out of here. I set down the container on the floor and headed to the bridge. I briefly acquainted myself with the controls, turned on the engine, and began takeoff. As I grew further and further from the ground, I watched as the swarm overran the ship still on the ground in a sea of orange.
Soon, the surface was too distant to make anything out, and I was off the planet. As I gazed out, I spotted what seemed to be a mothership. It was a hundred times bigger than the one I was in, and I recognized it from the Agency’s fleet. I was notified by the console in front of me that the mothership was establishing communication with me. I accepted immediately.
“Is this Agent #147?” A static voice commanded.
“No.” I replied. “He’s dead. Everyone’s dead.”
I swiveled in my seat to check the container.
“Could you please state your name and position?”
I didn’t answer. I had bigger problems now.
“Sir?”
I still didn’t respond. All I could do was stare at the shattered glass of both containers which were devoid of creatures.
Oh.
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