Out in the Dark
Victoria Dylan
The lights went out again and for a brief moment panic set in. Over two hundred generations had lived and died on the dark orb and still the humans panicked when darkness came. It was the same panic the first explorers reported when they discovered what could have been a city a hundred or more kilometres from their crash site. Panic and the belief in the spiritual world caused problems; had always caused problems and this time could cause something more serious. While things were problematic and he felt the strain of the oppressive dark, he knew he was the one who would need to deal with the situation. Machus pressed the buttons on the tunnel wall a few times to give one of the backup generators a kick and the lights slowly crawled back to their usual 180 lumens and safety. He checked the far door of the outside access tunnel, the red lock light was on and even at fifteen metres he could tell the airlock was empty; the rough cut stone enclosure was a grey blankness behind the clear wall of the lock’s inner door. ‘Nothing had come in,’ he sighed. After all this time even he expected something to suddenly appear and come into their underground community. A shot of darkness always brought the fear, even though the human population had seen no one other than themselves enter that lock, or any lock around the Shell. A proximity alarm had flashed briefly before the darkness fell. A malfunction or something else and while malfunctions were regular it was always the something else that jumped to everyone’s mind. He had to get a team; every alarm meant going outside.
The human population, the colony sent out to find a new world to call home, never made it, they never found a planet capable of supporting human life, but they were in the blackness between galaxies, thrown there by human kinds first attempt of a worm hole travel for a populated colony ship. The science said it would work, the technology they used made it work but there was no control, no destination plot that was worth noting and no shutting it down until it exhausted the power cell they used to create the field. When they emerged, they were in the nothingness, the great expanse that shows other galaxies as stars and distant stars are swallowed by the black. Machus had learned the history of those first years, like every child did, but knowing how and why didn’t help him sleep at night, then maybe that was why everyone learned the history of the colony’s founding, so they wouldn’t sleep and be caught in danger again. If the ship had come out of the worm hole and just been left with the impossible task of getting to another galaxy and its outer rim then they might have had hope, but they had crashed into a rogue planet that had once circled a sun, going by the minerals in its depths and the supply of light oil deep in the crust. The ruins suggested a thriving and populated planet in the past.
What had it been like to be thrust away from your sun to be sent hurtling into death? And for how long had this lightless world been out in the depths between the distant galaxies? He closed his eyes and looked up at the low, rough cut ceiling and sighed. They had been trapped in the darkness of neutral space long enough to even doubt they had even come from a distant star themselves. Earth was a story some questioned but not enough to say it was false. If it wasn’t for the recycled air locks from the original generation ship and the manufacturing machines that still turned out new machines to make things, they would have long ago forgotten their past. In a cavern far below was a new space ship, a large vessel that might one day free them from the crash site and prison, but it would not be of any benefit until they could create a power source equal or better to the one that had marooned them so far from all they had originally understood. Oil was good for generators, but you couldn’t power a star ship with the heavy liquid.
“It’s Geana,” he heard Karvan say from behind him. The Governor and friend’s voice was unique in its deep, harsh tone.
He turned from the door and saw the man standing at the top of the stairs leading down into their underground city. Karvan looked afraid, and Machus knew why. Geana was different to the others, she was not only paler than the sun starved population, but she also had clear eyes, a genetic rarity seen every generation or two.
“What did she see?”
Karvan looked to the floor and the hundreds of years of trampled rock. “She says it is the spirit of the ruins.”
“Again?”
“Not again, this time it is here, she said. She could hear it outside, scrabbling at the star dome trying to get in.” Karvan lifted his head, his bald pate glistening with perspiration. “When the dark came I heard it too, we all did.”
Machus checked the controls on the power circuits and made a note of which generator was silent and needed repair. There were fifteen in the city with only five ever going at any one time, redundancies were an imperative on an airless world. They had plenty of fuel; the dark planet had obviously supported a biosphere and ecosystem once in its long past. No, the humans would never really run out of fuel; with a population of barely three thousand they would never use all of the world’s pale oil reserves. The distraction of reading the gauges helped him put aside the visions of Geana. While there was no actual religion inside the dead world, people still clung to superstitions easily enough and with no contact being possible with any other population, superstitions were often all they had to rely on for their stories and legends. Geana would be part of some prophecy or another, there always was a prophecy when it came to clear eyes, but fortunately the majority of people accepted things for what they were and worked to a common goal; to escape the planet and be free to find a home of light in Andromeda somewhere.
Geana was a clear eye, you could see right through her pupils into the red muscles and nerves attached to her cortex. In a normal human, you would only see the black of the pupil and the white of the eye well set in a deep browed forehead void of hair; the vision was disturbing at times, but so too were some of the birth deformities that weren’t allowed to survive. Webbed fingers and strange body growths were acceptable, but some genetic mishaps put their limited medical resources under pressure, and while more space was being carved out of the hard rock every day, there was a limit to how much air and water they could make from the resources available. There was surface ice and they had many shafts leading up to the surface to dig it out from crevices and shallow frozen lakes, but it was poisonous without filtration and the filters were hard to make.
“You can’t just stand there and ignore me, Machus.”
“I suppose you have organized a team to go look?” It was what he would have done if he hadn’t have been busy restarting a generator.
“Three women have volunteered, but won’t go without you.”
He looked at Karvan and frowned. While women out numbered men almost five to one, it was unusual for them to specifically ask for him to go outside. Karvan was the experienced one for a journey, but since getting himself into the Governor position he stopped volunteering. Karvan obviously understood his frown and slowly raised his hands as if in defence against an attack. The look in his eyes said it wasn’t his idea and that he was really only delivering a message.
“Who are the women?” He hadn’t worn an environmental suit in a couple of years and didn’t like the idea of going outside in one of the imprisoning things.
“Reen, Hathur and…” he hesitated. “Geana.”
“We can’t go outside with one…”
“Don’t say it, Machus; these tunnels have ears.” Karvan stepped forward, his overalls were clean, too clean at times and not quite like the man Machus had grown up with. He could see dirt under the man’s finger nails and knew he had been doing some kind of dirty work before coming up to get him. Maybe he’d been down in one of the new shafts. Machus knew if he were to speak out against the Sayers then they would never develop a new fuel source for the ship.
The Sayers were not really an influential part of the population but if they wanted to they could start creating fear amongst the people by using Geana’s visions as a more divine prophecy. He half suspected Karvan had used the Sayers to get his Governor position from the Captaincy
. They were a small group with many fingers reaching into all parts of the colony’s life and through a few whispers doubt could easily be spread. They had done it before and fifty eight died of asphyxiation because they believed the air was contaminated. Small things in this environment killed and did so quickly. The Sayers wouldn’t be open and protest, that was not their way but he was sure work on experimentations wouldn’t stop immediately, but over the period of a few years they could create enough doubt to stop all star ship production. So, not an immediate threat but he understood what Karvan meant. He had to work with the clear eye; Geana was a slight woman, barely forty kilograms and if put against a white background she would almost appear transparent, her blue veins were easily seen through translucent skin. Machus thought about it and knew he wouldn’t actually see her physical strangeness while she was all bound up in one of the space suits, her face would be hidden behind a bank of blinding lights, hopefully. Reen was a strong girl and experienced with going outside but he hadn’t heard much about Hathor beyond enjoying a good fist fight after a digging shift. He supposed he owed Karven a reply, but he was right, there really would be someone somewhere listening to the conversation; there were no secrets in the Shell.
“Are the com systems working?” It was a fair question.
Karven nodded and started moving back to the stairs. There were a few suits near the airlock but Machus was a little taller than the average 180 centimetres so would be more comfortable in his own suit.
“Another thing,” Karven said. “The Celestials have been woken from their slumber.”
“Why now?”
“The noise, the lights, who knows, but I saw some on my way up, so it could mean trouble.”
Machus didn’t want to think about the political factions, there was enough to concern him for the moment. He followed Karven down one flight of stairs passing the landing that led into generator rooms and oil pumping stations, only a few families lived this close to the surface, which made the work crews for these areas generational. At the third level they left the wide stair well and entered the main living cavern and technological hub of the Shell, the name they’d given the hollowed out area because it was carved out around the shell of their space ship. Part of the command section stood in the centre of the cavern, a memorial of sorts and a functioning computer system that was almost intelligent enough to be given rights, though some distrust of the system sat deep in the psychic of their rudimentary civilization. He walked across the open space looking to his right and seeing the many tiered rows of the hydroponics garden, a level lower was the mushroom farm and the key food source, along with pitiful potato crops.
Geana was standing by the lower rail of the garden, her head covered in a white scarf. She was trying to hide the fathomless depths of her eyes, he knew, but soon they would have to look his way and once their eyes had met the deal and agreement would be sealed, the others would simply meet them by the hatch ready to venture up and into the darkness above. The gravity on the dead world was a strange thing and after many generations of survival he supposed they had grown used to its effects on them. Down in the mushroom farms it was heavier and some suggested it could be close to Earth normal, but as there were no survivors to verify this they could only take measurements and calculations word for it. In the higher levels things were indeed lighter, or felt easier on the body. That was the only thing Machus was looking forward to by going outside, that and the spread of galaxies that dotted the blackness of the alien sky. One of them was the Milky Way, their home galaxy but like the others it was distant and a smudge amongst millions of smudges in the eternal night sky.
“She won’t look at you, not yet anyway.” Karven stood beside him, his arm against Machus’ elbow suggested he should keep on walking to his quarters and the environmental suit.
“This is her chance, the worshippers should know as well as she that this contact will shift some of the power base towards her.” Machus hated to admit the fact, but just maybe the power shift would be a good thing. The central Captaincy and office rankings struggled to keep people at peace with each other; it was more a forced existence at times.
“She doesn’t want the power.” Karven eased Machus around to stare at another gathered group, they wore brown long shirts and white shorts, their feet shoed in thick hemp, their bare, bald heads painted with circles. “The Celestials don’t want her to gain power too soon, they haven’t groomed her enough.”
“How many have woken?” He hadn’t seen one of them in a decade or more, they were the only colonists who still trusted the deep sleep cases stored a few levels below.
“This lot and I think a few others are being cajoled out of dreaming.”
“So, if they don’t want her to take power from the Captaincy, what do they want?”
“No idea, but I can be sure of one thing, they have seen an opportunity and are acting.”
“Just so long as no one gets killed, I don’t care.” Machus watched the group of men and women staring at him, their heads bobbing in quick discussion. “Just keep the Sayers silent.”
“The Sayers will have the last word on this, as they also have the ear of the Captaincy, so just keep the prize safe and all will work out.” Karven would also have his hand in somewhere Machus knew and he would sacrifice his crib mothers given half a chance at the big chair.
“And what if Geana dies outside?” Machus didn’t like the idea of being a protector.
“I would also presume you would have also died, so I wouldn’t concern myself with that outcome just yet.”
The gathering all wore thick rings of knotted weed rope around their necks, the symbol of the continuity of the heavens, the circular motion of the galaxies and of course the noose was handy should a good strangling be needed for any who broke with the ranks. Machus could almost understand the Celestials, he could see where their dogma came from and amongst the other beliefs and acceptances of the forced colony it did have a connection back to the crash landing. Those who had tried to seize control from the first Captaincy were hung until dead with chord rope. The Celestials claimed they were the children of those who saw more in the stars than just imprisonment beneath the surface of their new home. Two Celestials broke from the group of a dozen or more and walked briskly across the polished grey of the general floor space towards Geana.
“It appears I may have been wrong, friend,” Karven said, his voice quiet but serious.
Geana looked directly at Machus, her clear eyes a smattering of liquid and red muscles. That look sent a shiver through his shoulders and chilled his blood. Some had said her eyes were like the clearest waters of Earth and that from such water life was born, all life. To him it was simply frightening, but he had matched that gaze and they were in agreement. The two Celestials reached her and guided her away; she would be taken and suited up ready for the investigation. The Sayers would not be amused so he expected there would be some harsh words behind the scenes before they headed out.
“Will there be much difference when we get back?” Machus asked, watching the girl leave the chamber down one of the many corridors that radiated away from the central free space.
“Bring Geana back alive and with answers for the noises above and you will be favoured when the power shift is complete. Die and the Celestials will replace the Sayers and have to wait for another like Geana to be born. And hear me, Machus, they will be gene manipulating to get this sooner than later.”
Machus shook his head in frustration, every time there came a sound from the surface political movements swirled like oil down a pipe. Every time they went topside into the oppressiveness of the darkness they found nothing, saw nothing but the glitters of distant galaxies. He’d seen many an image and recording of the stars seen from the ancient Earth, the wide sweep of lights filling the night sky, but here, so far away from a galaxy where there are no living stars you could feel the weight of distance on your mind and it tugged at the heart with it hopelessness. He’d been outside over a dozen time
s and still he dreaded looking up, others had only been out once and would never venture forth again unless a dire need was at hand. There would be nothing to see as usual, the noise would prove to be imagination based on extreme isolation, the only possible and explainable cause for any sound from outside.
He left Karven to investigate more of what was to transpire while he was away, he needed to know nothing other than if he still had a job in the air recycling sector and if there was a meal ready before he retired to his bed on return. Once away from the crowds and the intrigue he allowed himself to be calmed by the close press of the black stone walls of the tunnel and the assorted colours of the door curtains that protected privacy. No one would dare push past any of the curtains to gain entry, everyone, no matter how urgent the news, waited courteously to be welcomed into the room. An airlock was easier to gain access to, and you had to cycle that with leavers and wheels. His dirty green curtain was open, indicating he was out. He entered the room, closed the curtain and touched the shelf by the door and regretted the act as he felt the fine dust of time on his fingertips. He did not clean and saw no need given the dust was always present in the air. The recyclers made it dry and cool, if only a little humidity was added to the system the dust would settle easier, but water was precious and until they managed to extend their ice salvage pipe deeper into the frozen lake the air would remain dry.
The environmental suit sitting hunched in the corner of the front room looked like a man had toppled forward drunk and fallen asleep in a strange crouch. The helmet was on the floor beside it and Machus already fought back claustrophobia. He stripped naked, backed into the suit making sure his feet were properly settled into the cushioning in the boots before pulling the suit up over his hips, attaching the catheter with some difficulty and pain then slipping his arms into the tight fitting arms. The suit was really two suits in one, an inner cool suit with a crisscross of water filled tubes and the outer air vessel, which kept a constant pressure and allowed him to breathe. The big flaps across his chest sucked closed as he closed the neck ring under his chin. Power lights flickered to life around the forward section of the ring and once they were all green he attached the helmet. The HUD ran through checks again, he ignored them as he closed his eyes and settled into the isolation and imprisonment of the suit. If something was wrong the suit would warn him and take protective action. That was one thing they had got good at over the centuries, making environmental suits.
Getting to the airlock through the main hall was not possible, too many would want to stop him and wish him luck and even more would approach and possibly sabotage his suit. He chastised himself for the thought but knew it had happened once. A different mythology and prophecy but it did happen. He made his way from his home and down to the end of his corridor. He entered the small lift that took him up three levels. Each corridor had an airlock lift, though it wasn’t used as prevalently as in the past. The whole exercise took Machus thirty minutes and when he rounded the corner of the level three corridor he saw the others were already waiting, including the small form of Geana. Her suit wasn’t white, as anything white would easily turn grubby in the dirty air, but it was pale enough to show she was some kind symbology on this trip. His orange suit was functional compared to her elaborately embroidered tool pockets.
“Synchronize suits,” he said as he neared. “Set in five seconds, full transmit burst of twelve seconds.” He watched the countdown on his HUD. When it hit zero the suits HUD flashed for twelve seconds as his computer sent out its signal and received and synchronized the other three suits. Now his HUD display a list of names which he could access at any time, the others would have the same information. With everyone knowing each’s vital signs and suit condition it would make the excursion safer.
“The Governor has requested a recording of this event. I am equipped with recoding apparatus,” Geana said, pointing to a square, black patch on her shoulder. “It is not part of the suit’s main controls, shall I include you all in what it picks up?”
“Don’t include us in the recording,” Machus said, he didn’t want anything he did showing up on some propaganda feed later.
“Very well.”
Geana’s voice was soft with a hint of airiness displaying she never yelled, or raised her voice for any reason. To Machus she sounded like she was speaking through a wind tunnel, the breeze shifting words about like dust motes. He chinned the toggle for the suit light down and turned his attention to the airlock. The airlock could easily hold all four of them, so he ushered the women in then closed the large swing door behind them. He pulled down the long red lock leaver, changing the interiors door light from red to yellow. Air pressure was lowered to outside, which was zero, but also the temperature in the lock was lowered by turning three blue taps. Outside was cold, seriously so and if they stepped straight from the lock outside they ran this risk of their helmets cracking in shock. The suits were a very strong hemp fabric, but the helmets were still an oil plastic product, and no matter how thick they made the clear face plate, it always cracked when exposed to the outside environment quickly. On his HUD he could see the external temperature of the suit was dropping slowly. He checked the three women, who seemed to be resigned to the wait. Geana’s face plate frosted a little on the inside. She was running cold inside as well, it made sense; once they started moving about their body temp would go up and put a strain on the cool suits. He set his own suit at seventeen Celsius, while the outside plummeted past minus twenty.
Reen’s black face looked concerned, though Machus could see nothing wrong with her vitals or suit functions. He checked his tool functions on both wrist rings, the short knife on the right suitable for cutting and digging if he had to and a claw for scrapping on his left. They popped out and retracted with gentle flicks of his wrist. Reen was checking hers as well, but more absent-mindedly.
“Reen, are you okay?” He stepped up to her making sure she could see him as he spoke. She looked back as if waking from a trance. “Reen?”
“I’m not going,” she said, backing away, her tools retracting back into her wrist rings
“What do you mean you aren’t going? We’re already cycling out.”
“I said I’m not going.” In a flash Reen had switched channel on her com.
“Machus, let me.” Hather stepped in and said something on her secure channel to the woman. Reen looked her way but shook her head. More must have been said as Reen’s eyes darted between Hather and Machus, getting wider and more frightened by the moment. Hather turned to face him, she shook her head. He checked the HUD and saw Reen’s pulse had risen and she was showing signs of anxiousness.
“Reen,” he said, placing his opened palm against the side of her helmet. “You don’t have to go.” The look of relief was immediate. “But you will have to stay in the lock until we get back. It will take too long to reheat the airlock and reset it to allow us back in after the trip. Is that okay? Will you be okay?” If the woman could have turned green to match her suit Machus thought she just did. “You keep the outer door closed and the lights down low, you will be safe.” He had to give her a deadline, a deadline always made things easier. “If we aren’t back in two hours, cycle back through and report to Karven first and then to the Captaincy.” She nodded again and with relief.
He turned to Hather, found her channel and tapped in. “What got to her?”
“Says she saw a ghost on the other side of the hatch. Saw the face of her abusive uncle who died five years ago.” Hather also looked troubled and was holding something back, he could see it in her eyes; the watery blue looked on the edge of tears.
“What else did she say? I want it all, Hather.”
“She said her uncle claimed he was going to kill her if she stepped outside,” Geana broke in, her airy voice starling him. “I felt his presence but I did not see anything outside through the view port.”
Machus wanted to squeeze his fingers into his eyes to push aside the annoyance and frustration, but the best h
e could do was take a deep breath and hold it for a few seconds. A ghost was the problem. His head itched and he wanted to scratch at his nose, all nervous gestures he knew but in a suit you didn’t have much of an opportunity to display nervous ticks or stress relieving gestures. He calmed and thought the situation probably became safer as he only had two to watch out for now. Maybe he should leave Hather to watch over Reen, then it would just be him and Geana, a simple look around the ventilators, take some recordings of nothing and come back. He looked to Hather and the determination he saw on her face said she was going out. He didn’t even look at Geana, this was probably more about her than anything else.
Ghosts were not uncommon, or the belief in them wasn’t out of the ordinary, the remains of what could have been a city had been discovered when they though exploration in the dark could be beneficial. Now the only time anyone went outside was when they heard something. Machus stared at the view port and the darkness beyond. All he could see was the reflection of the light from the air lock and the faint green illumination of the ready light. He looked to Reen, who had backed up against the inner door, the lights in her helmet casting a green glow over her dark, frightened face. He reached forward, grasped the long red lock bar on the door and pulled it upwards. There was no sound and it was eerie. The unlock light flashed twice before settling to red. He pushed the door open the same time as turning on his suit lights. The bright beams punched out into darkness, a darkness so complete he hesitated in taking a first step. His mind threw up problems, obstacles that he wouldn’t be able to get around. What if there was no ground outside the door? What is something big and ugly with massive teeth jumped out and grabbed him in its claws. He was being foolish. Geana waited for him to lead, he imagined her clear eyes boring into his back wondering why he wasn’t moving. With caution he stepped forward and out into the top side and the dead surface of the world. Dotted about the blackness overhead were lights and swirls and whorls, the brilliance of galaxies so long in the past many might actually be gone.
Other lights came on around him, Geana to his left and Hather to his right. The ground was grey rock in the glare, barren and undulating. If they headed out to the right of the airlock for five kilometres they would find the first of the frozen lakes; water ice with some nasties, but they weren’t out to look for ice, they were going left, across the crumbling surface to the rise less than two hundred metres away. This was the first of four heat vents and evaporation tunnels, it was from here the noise had emanated. The vents were small, not even big enough for a small child to fit down, but they were vital in the filtration and ventilation of the underground city. From the top of the vent a service crew could change lock in filters which worked like tiny airlocks when releasing built up heat and gases, and from the tubes bottom was a similar system but with more filters and intricate parts. If something blocked one filter things could get uncomfortable in around three weeks, all four and the colony was under threat within five days. Even in a sealed environment you needed ventilation. Machus had completed a number of filter changes and noise investigation, aside from Karven, he was the most experienced, but that didn’t make things any easier.
“It’s a slow climb to the top,” he said, looking to Geana, whose face was hidden behind the glare of her helmet lights. “We’re looking for rocks in the top of the funnel.”
“What would have moved the rocks?”
Geana’s question echoed in his helmet and despite his problems with the position she had put him he knew it was a damn good question. He waited, listening to his breathing and knowing he was exerting himself climbing the rise. Their lights flashed over the surface, grey and brightness with chunks that could have been black or dark brown.
“Let’s just hope the planet’s got a little seismic activity still going on, shall we?” He looked up and the flash of red, the funnel came into view. The lights of galaxies above were lost in his halo of light.
“Yes, let us hope.” It was Hather, her deep voice reassuring.
In front and slightly above nothing moved and if all was well, hadn’t moved for millions of years and would remain unmoved for millions more. Machus had jumped at shadows the first time he’d come outside to gaze up at the lights and to marvel at the immense distance between him and another world of life. Now he jumped at light, other people’s light, because he needed to know where they were at all times. He looked behind and past the glare of the lights of the two women and saw the red glow of the airlock, so small and smothered by black. The lock was built into a rock face ten metres high and barely double across. After the colony ship had been buried deep in the planet – a shipment of mining equipment designed for use on their new world had made the job easier than it sounded, it took two years to tunnel up and out into an area that was flat, and through an outcrop that was strong enough to withstand some of the pressures of the airlock. On an airless world, even with gravity, they didn’t know how stable the rock was less than one normal Earth atmosphere. To Machus those early explorers and engineers were heroes and their names were engraved on one of the three bell housing of the new starship, and every year more names are added.
It was deeply troubling to move through this world without sound, seeing others, watching their footfalls, seeing dust rise from their boots and fall again just like it would on any oxygen world. Machus didn’t like watching this part, it made him claustrophobic and when that happened he noticed the stink of his own body in the suit, first sweet and wafting and then strong and cloying to the point of suffocating; he would often change the regulator setting on his oxygen feed when this happened, though he never told the Captaincy about it, he would be suspended from suit duty.
“The red funnel there,” he pointed his lights towards the tubes funnel. “Once we are around it and clear anything inside, we can move on to the others.”
“How long will this take?” Geana asked, not impatient but more a gentle inquiry.
“If we don’t find any obstructions we should be back in the airlock in two hours.” He checked his HUD, they’d already been out ten minutes and still they hadn’t reached the first funnel. “So, let’s get a move on, Reen doesn’t want to be alone any longer than necessary. And if she reports to the Captaincy before we are back, then guess whose head is up for a slap?”
With all three sets of lights loosely focused on the funnel it was easier to estimate distance, they were close enough now to read the number painted on its side in yellow. #1 shone like a beacon and he sighed with relief they had at least made it this far.
“What was that?” Hather snapped, her light shifting away from the unified beam.
“What?” Geana’s light joined hers.
Reluctantly Machus combined his light with that of the women. Everyone got the jitters in the dark. There was nothing but grey and black rock flashing up through their dancing beams. Hather’s light was dancing haphazardly about as if panic had set in and she was looking for a fast escape somewhere.
“Take it easy, Hather,” he said, reaching out and grasping her arm; it wasn’t until he squeezed hard did he feel any resistance in his glove. “There is nothing out here. Let’s check the funnels and get back.”
“There!” She pointed with her hand and the light.
For a moment he saw something. A movement. A lightness against the dark. Geana’s light joined theirs and they slowly panned back and forwards over the region Hather and he had seen the movement. The lights picked out and caused small sparkles; frozen water ice and other silvery crystals. None of them spoke as the lights illuminated a wide area down the slope and in front of them. Machus thought they should go back. Yes, there was something out here but they were also unprepared.
“Contact Reen,” he said to Hather, “Explain to her we are coming back now and that she is to have the lock door open. Hather,” he added trying not to sound concerned. “We want to cycle through as quickly as possible so see if you can get her to prime a quick pressurization without setting her off.” He couldn’t see
her face because of the strong light reflection off her face plate. Geana was the same but he had another task for her as they traipsed back. “Lead the way down the slope and back, I’ll bring up the rear and protect Geana should whatever that thing is come closer.
“That thing is our future,” Geana said, breaking into the channel. “I have seen it and felt its presence since the moment of my birth.” She turned off her helmet lights so he could see her face through the shield. Her eyes were closed but red lines tracked across her translucent skin. “It is in communication with me. I am to stay here. I am to welcome it into our community.”
“Hather, you head back, see to the preparation yourself and keep Reen calm.” She turned away and started down the slope and towards the red glow of the airlock.
With Geana’s lights off and Hathors slowly moving away from them the darkness pressed in harder. He needed Geana to see his expression and to read his face while he spoke, it was important for her to see rather than just hear. Machus switched off his external suit lights and the night dropped on him like a great weight. His heart skipped and for a moment he closed his eyes so they could adjust. When he opened them he saw the sky littered with distant galaxies then he turned to Geana, her face light up by the suits internal heads up display and control board, his face would be lit up in the same fashion. He faced her, trying not to think about the thing that was out in the darkness with them. He had to admit he was afraid, the most afraid he had ever felt. Geana’s eyes were still closed and the red veins had increased around her neck; it was hard to determine the full extent of what was happening to her without tapping into her suits bio-system, but right now he was even too afraid to attempt that. He looked to the light thrown out by Hather, a candle in a cavern the size of the universe, and wished he’d left her with Geana, and headed back himself.
“It says we must leave,” Geana said, opening her eyes and startling him with their clearness and the pulsing of blood inside the holes they inhabited.
“Who?” He put his right hand on her shoulder, hoping the action would get her attention. “What was that we saw?”
“Death.” She looked at him, her placid face twitched with a smile. “It has been alone for millennia. It was here when the planet was cast out onto the void when its sun… when its sun failed to protect them from the Coming.”
Geana wasn’t making much sense but he had to get her back to the airlock and back into the colony. So much rested on her return. He looked behind and saw darkness with the glitter of lights on the far horizon. So far from everything they were, so, so far from a galaxy that could have a planet for them to live. He sighed and readied himself for an argument. Hather’s light blinked off some distance from the red glow of the airlock. He chinned her channel.
“Hather, what are you doing?”
Silence, not even radio static.
“Hather, do you read. Hather.”
“She is gone,” Geana said cutting into Hather’s channel again. “It has come and taken her like the night takes the stars.”
“Reen,” he said, changing to her channel. “Reen, cycle the airlock and lock the outer doors. We are not coming back. Tell…”
“She is also gone,” Geana’s haunting voice cut him off. “It has taken a long time to find us, a time so long that it thought it would be alone for eternity.” He looked to her, the solemn face whispering out the words so dead to the ears he felt as if he were in a sound proof room. “Turn on your lights, let it find you, let it embrace you and take away the fear that comes with darkness.” He was blinded by Geana’s lights as they sprang to life. He turned away and tried to get out of their shine. “Stay, Machus. Stay and come with me as I let it into the colony. It is so lonely; it is so over joyed to have another taste of life.”
Machus wanted to run but he couldn’t see and if he could see then whatever it was could see him. He stumbled away from Geana, her lights finding then losing him as he scrabbled over rocks and uneven ground. The suits made it difficult to feel his way and he had to be careful not to put a hole in the tough fabric; if he did he would have to wait for it to get him. Moving was too difficult and trying to see via his HUD was simply ridiculous. Machus stopped stumbling and lay flat of the ground. He chinned off his HUD and control board lights and lay still, listening to his own heavy breathing and feeling sweat running down his face. He didn’t know if he closed his eyes or not, nothing could be seen, absolutely nothing. He though he caught the hint of a light, perhaps Geana searching for him, so he tried to press himself further into the rocky ground; in stillness he hoped to be invisible, then he remembered he was wearing a high visibility orange suit; if her light did sweep his way he would stand out like a beacon. He prayed to the Captaincy, something he had never done before, he wasn’t one for faith systems sold on the black market, but for now it was all he had and he hoped they understood his pleas.
“Machus,” Geana’s voice erupted from his helmet mike. The tiny green glow from the live channel icon made him stab wildly at the control board with his chin to extinguish the tell-tale. “I know you can hear me, Machus. Come to me, come to it and find salvation in dark.”
He held his breath for a moment then realised that was stupid thing to do, she would know his channel was alive; it would show as a green light on her control board. If he spoke she wouldn’t know where he was, there was no real atmosphere on the surface to carry sound and she couldn’t track by his voice of the radio. He took many deep breathes and thought about the oxygen supply, he had several hours before the sighting, but could he lay face down on the planet’s surface for a couple of hours until she went away. He could, only she wanted to go inside and take that thing with her. He didn’t want to be a hero. He didn’t want to save anyone’s life by being brave. He wanted to dig a hole and hide.
“It wants to talk to you, Machus; it wants to know all your fears and your dreams. It wants to know all about the human race and from where we have come from.” Her voice was higher now, as if she was speaking with effort. This was not the calm Geana who had spoken to him in the airlock.
Machus pushed himself up to his knees and searched for Geana’s light. She was maybe fifty metres away, though with reference points unseeable, she could be a hundred. The lights were focused on something in front of her; it was pale and tall and thin. He turned away from the light and made his way down the slope, slowly and carefully, keeping low to the ground so if he stumbled he wouldn’t sprawl flat on his stomach and run the risk of holing his suit. He moved slightly away from Geana’s suit lights but in more or less the direction of the distant red glow of the airlock. He had to get there first and secure the lock so Geana and the thing couldn’t get in. Time felt slow as he moved around large rocks. The suit hiding the sensation of touch until it was almost too late. In a way he bounced from place to place, or rebounded off boulders. His ankles were aching from stepping on the rocky ground randomly. The reinforcing in the boots would save him from simple sprains, but if he happened into a sizable hole he could break a bone.
“Machus, come to me, let us talk of the future.” Geana’s voice was now strained. He could hear the high pitched changes. “You will not be harmed. All is safe now it has come to us.”
He looked up the rise. Geana was still standing there, her lights searching the area he had been when he’d made his initial dash. She would know he would make his way to the airlock so why was she searching in the opposite direction? He looked away from her, the red light, it was near, and he could just make out the opened door in the face of the cliff. He looked to his right and saw a pale glow, radiance barely bright enough to trouble the dark. Machus edged his way closer. His heart raced. What if this was another of those things? It couldn’t be, as far as he could tell it gave off no light.
“Hather,” he breathed, seeing the face behind the pale light of her helmet’s control board. The face plate looked smashed but he could see nothing else of her so intense the dark pressing around him. He drew closer and saw blood one her bl
ue lips and her open eye empty and frozen. IN the light of the control board she looked grey. He wanted to scream at Geana, tell her what he was looking at, tell her what had happened to Hather and probably Reen.
With determination he made his way towards the red of the lock, the closer he got the more he could make out of the ground around him; he saw nothing clearly but shadows appeared and shifted and changed as he grew nearer the light. He stopped when he was ten metres away from the large opened door, he could see Reen’s green suit inside the airlock; she was on her back, suit light on and the bright white beam creating a large spot on the ceiling of the lock. As soon as he broke into a run the last ten metres he would be seen. He knew as he crouched behind a bolder. He looked to the rise, no lights shone. Had it now taken Geana? Given two dead already he couldn’t consider anything else. Listening to his breathing Machus felt he was labouring more than he should; the climb down had been difficult but he had gone slowly. Something wasn’t right. He ducked down behind the rock and allowed the dots of galaxies to distract him while he thought. Maybe he had used more oxygen than expected; maybe he had a loose hose or a hole in his suit. The echo of his hard breaths made it clear he didn’t have time to contemplate much more than getting into the lock and slamming the door closed. Feeling weak he pushed himself to his feet and edged around the rock until the red light was full in his face plate. Then he ran.
The airlock didn’t seem to be getting any closer and every step felt like a heavy weight to be lifted and thrown forward. He was breathing hard now, struggling for air. The lock grew larger. The body of Reen on the floor grew in size. He was nearly there.
The blow came is slow motion. He was almost at the door when something hit him from the side and knocked him down. He gasped and flailed. Weight pressed down on his chest. The darkness was everywhere but the faint glow of red highlighted a large shadow over him. He pressed up with his arms, trying to hold whatever it was from crushing him. He chinned the lights. Light reflected back. It bounced off a face shield. An environmental suit’s face shield.
“Geana,” he cried. “Geana, stop.” He held her off while chinning the all channel broad-caste, it wouldn’t be as effective as direct channel but she would at least hear him. “Geana, get off. My suits…” he gasped again and sucked in a deep unsatisfying breath, then another. “Get off, I can’t breathe.”
He wrestled some more. Geana’s suit was off-white, this one was yellow, a faded yellow but definitely not white. The face plate was shielded so he couldn’t see inside but this was not Geana. Whoever this was, was strong and he had difficulty in holding them off. Something bounced off his face plate. A rock. This person was trying to smash open his helmet. The exertion was tiring him, air was thin and he didn’t want to die of suffocation. He did want to die from decompression either. He just didn’t want to die. With effort he thrust his right arm up hard into the midriff of the person on top of him while at the same time triggering his tool attachment on his wrist wring. He felt something give and the weigh eased and moved away. He rolled to his front and to his feet and lunged into the airlock. Struggling to breathe he pulled the large door closed, grabbed the locking bar and fell on it until it locked down. He had to hit the pressurization button, but it would take too long, he would be dead by the time the pressure was inside normal and warm. He crawled to the inner door, climbing over the still form of Reen, whose body was near the controls. The controls were waist height and had been set so just in case of an emergency. Machus opened a small hatch and depressed the emergency door release. He felt the great locking clamp vibrate through the floor as the outer door was locked. He lay flat on the floor and waited.
The first sound he heard was perhaps one of his ribs popping and then the loud crash of atmosphere. The outer airlock door broke his flight as the inner atmosphere equalized the airlock.
There was no air left in his helmet. He sucked and sucked and panicked. He grabbed at the locking rings on his helmet but his fingers felt too big, the gloves clumsy. He yanked and yanked until he felt the seal pop. The helmet was off and tumbling away as he sucked in his first full breath. He did nothing else but enjoy that sweet taste in his lungs. As he slowed his breathing the sound of alarms broke into his recovery. He looked to the opened inner door and could see the frame was buckled. Lights flashed orange and yellow and he had never felt so glad to see such sight of danger in his entire life. He looked to his side and saw the crumpled form of Reen. She had known something was wrong. He should have listened to her. His ribs hurt and moving was difficult, but he slid over and removed her helmet. He needed to see her face out of respect. She was breathing; he saw as the helmet popped off, her eyes flickered for a moment. Machus felt relieved.
“Machus, Machus,” it was Geana, her voice soft and airy as he first remembered it. “Please Machus, tell me you made it.”
“I’m here.” He sat back up hard against the outer door wishing the alarms would turn off; it was hard hearing the woman’s voice. He reached into the neck ring with his fingers and upped the gain, as neck movement seemed too difficult right now.
“Thank the Captaincy,” she said, actually sounding relieved.
“I suppose you can explain what just happened out there?”
She might have answered but he wasn’t sure, pain and screams and alarms filled his head and wracked his body. Noise was the last thing he needed he thought as he closed his eyes. He felt so tired, so terribly tired.
The Celestials had tried to seize power while Machus was outside and they had tried to do so by manipulating Geana. Machus was comfortably sitting on a small balcony over-looking the central cavern of the colony, his ribs hurt and he was bruised all over from his ordeal. The Celestials had retreated to their deep meditation tanks for possibly another hundred years, or until the new space vessel was completed, tested and ready to go.
“I’ve brought you some tea,” the airy voice said from behind him.
Geana placed two cups on the table between the chairs and sat, slightly facing him as well as having a clear view over the milling population. Machus smiled but also felt guilty, as he in part was responsible for the threat in the first place.
“Thank you.” He lifted the cup and sipped the spicy drink. “If you had accepted the offer all this would be yours now.” He sipped again and watched her clear eyes gaze out over the railing.
“I see things, Machus and I sometimes don’t know what they mean, but I know when something is wrong. I can feel at least that much.” Her mauve slacks and green smock clashed and the colours only seemed to enhance the clearness of those frightening eyes. “I did my best to help you but he’d already killed Hather and had control over my suits systems through that black recording patch the Celestials had made me wear.”
The Captaincy had been quick to piece everything together once he’d blown the inner lock door. The Celestials had swooped but without the word of Geana, the people didn’t flock to their cause and had turned against them. Some Celestials were killed while trying to take hostages and when it was reported that Geana was dead the whole over throw idea fell to ruins. He looked to the diminutive woman and was startled by her resilience and ingenuity. She’d dropped and rolled and ran from her controller and had made her way to the lesser used garbage airlock on the other side of the small range the colony was built under. She had made the whole journey in the dark with only the distant flickers of galaxies and some of the largest stars to offer any form of guidance. Shed walked into the cavern well after calm had been restored and he was in the medical centre getting treatment and explaining what had happened.
“I didn’t mean to kill him, you know?”
“I know.” She sipped at her tea now and dropped her gaze to her lap.
“Karven was my friend. He was the one who’d suggested the Celestials would want control through you.” Even though he’d never seen Karven’s face through the reflection of his lights, he still imagined the look in his eyes when he knew he was going to die. “His wife
will never forgive me.”
“You don’t need forgiveness, Machus,” Geana said, reaching across the table and touching his shoulder. “What you need is to help finish the ship so we can leave this place. We have spent far too long in the dark, far, far too long.”