THE DOWN LOW (01/14/25 *)
"You look better." Moss said, picking up a pack of Lockspur's sour candies and tossing them to her. Lockspur frowned at him and mouthed the words, thanks a lot.
"Thanks." Dahl said, taking them with a kind smile. She hated sour candy. "Explain what?" she asked, dropping the damp towel on a nearby console. She moved closer to the monitor beside Lockspur. Neither of her teammates noticed the small bag of candies nestled into the towel. She would place them on Lockspur's console later, hoping he would think he had dropped them. Dahl stood in front of a wide monitor, scrutinizing the image of the area between the wreckage and the cave where she first spotted the creatures. She raked a comb through her short blonde hair with enough force to make her teammates cringe.
"Christ, doesn't that hurt?" Moss asked, offering a wince every time she dragged the comb through a fresh line of tangles.
She shrugged and kept going.
"If those things..." Lockspur paused, gesturing up at the tangerine sky outside. "fry in the light of day. How did that raptor get inside a locked compartment? It's unlikely it's been in there since the last eclipse. That was years ago. And investigators crawled all over the ship. They would have seen it."
"I have an idea about how it got in there." Moss replied, surveying the computer monitor showing the terrain outside. Even the washed out video feed emanating from the screen made him squint.
Shit, Dahl thought, it's like looking into a welding arc. No wonder everything here is blind. The Goddamn light from two suns burns the eyes right out of their sockets.
None of them understood how the creature came to be in the closed compartment. Logic suggested it must have gained access to the ship after the investigators left. But that made little sense either. "The light isn't the only problem," Moss said, tapping the closed hatch on the screen with a chime of contemplation. "How did it close the hatch behind itself?" He turned to his teammates and asked. "These creatures are cunning, but that level of problem solving suggests an intelligence far beyond any type 2 Bio-raptor."
"We'd better hope they're not that smart," Lockspur said to himself. "Because if they are, we're screwed."
"And that's not the worst thing," Moss said. "If they don't have heightened intelligence, then their actions suggest there is an outside force controlling them." Moss' brows furrowed at the idea that something or someone was influencing them. "And if that's the case, we have a much bigger problem. Someone or something knows we're here, and it doesn't want us here."
Lockspur said nothing. But he realized if Moss was right, there were several people here other than them.
"Let's hope not." Dahl replied, imagining how their mission would become much more dangerous if the beasts had focused and organized thoughts. She shuddered at the idea the creatures were not simple eating machines, but more like well-organized ants. Each having its own role to play; each having an individual mission supporting a far greater and much more connected purpose. But what purpose? Whose purpose? I'm giving these creatures more credit than they deserve. Such human machinations would be beyond these primitive creatures. They have brains the size of walnuts.
"As it is," Moss continued, "I don't believe we have to worry about the raptors being too smart. I think the simplest explanation will suffice here."
"And that is?" Lockspur replied.
Moss nodded towards a second image on the large monitor off to one side of the cramped compartment. "It's 350 meters from the tunnel exit - where you spotted movement - to the hatch where the creature emerged."
"That's a lot of open terrain to cross." Lockspur replied, eyes tracing a path from the cavern's opening to the aft side of the rear compartment. "The creature would have to navigate the open terrain to reach its destination. Not a likely scenario for an animal who prefers the cool comforts of darkness."
"It's doubtful any of them could survive that trek or would even try," Dahl said. "Unless..." she paused, thinking aloud. A landslide of puzzle pieces fell into place in her mind's eye. "They are like ants."
"Makes sense." Moss replied, offering an agreeable nod. "They didn't get there above ground. They came up from underneath."
Dahl adjusted the outside sensor array to show an image of the substrate beneath the Hunter Gratzner and laughed.
"Shit," Lockspur said. "That's fantastic. Even after seeing the mounds, I never put it together. They can come out anywhere."
"Apparently, the raptors aren't the only ones with brains the size of walnuts." Dahl said.
"Kid, I was out here tracking down criminals before you were in diapers."
"And now you're out here killing them while you're in diapers." Moss added.
"That's how," Dahl said, turning to a monitor, shaking her head. She traced a network of underground tunnels up into the bowels of the wreckage with her fingertip. "Crafty little bastards burrowed straight up through the bottom of the ship. That means they have access to the whole thing. Bridge included."
"Good, Christ. They're diggers." Lockspur said, sneering in disgust. "If it turns out they're smart, too. They could tunnel up beneath us and just sit down there waiting for us to walk off the end of the ramp right into a hole and chomp. Meat for the beast."
"Unlikely," Moss said. "I doubt they can burrow through steel."
"What if one of them gets the bright idea of digging a cavern big enough to drop one of the landing struts into? If they do that, we're stuck here until we can dig ourselves out. And we can't do that if they're down there waiting for us to come outside," Lockspur said.
Dahl turned to Moss with a grim expression. "And what if they dig traps for us? One second you're walking along and the next, whoosh, the ground beneath you collapses and they've got you."
"Two days later, you're a pile of steaming shit in a pitch-black tunnel to hell."
"That would suggest an above average level of intellect and an ulterior motive."
Lockspur grimaced at the monitor and said, "Our job just became a thousand times harder. It's infested."
"It's fair to say what's left of the Gratzner is overrun. We'll have to go in through the windscreen. Fighting our way in from the aft section is not an option. They hold the low ground. And we're not equipped to take it back."
"But how do we get it off?" Dahl asked, shaking her head doubtfully. "We can't just pull it off. It weighs too much."
"I could attach a couple of shape charges to the frame rails and blow it off." Lockspur replied. "But everything aboard would come running."
"And it could destroy what we came for." Moss warned. "Even if you could blow it off, there's no way of knowing which way the poly might fall. We'll never get to that computer with 3 tons chunk of bulletproof polycarbonate laying on the mainframe."
"Or... if the hatch is even closed, or locked." Dahl said.
Lockspur's mind ran through the darkened derelict, pursued along endless corridors of blood sprayed safety zone yellow as a frenetic chorus of blaring sirens and red spiralling warning lights lit his way. A nightmare gauntlet of terror flashing in an endless wash of red-yellow, red-yellow, red-yellow. There would be no going in through the rear. "Let's go out and access the situation firsthand. Figure it out on site."
"Situation normal," Dahl said, sitting down next to Moss. The three of them realized this mission would no longer be a simple you're in/you're out run. It was apparent the entrenched enemy possessed the home ground advantage.
"We're screwed." Lockspur added, staring from Dahl to Moss. "Mission over. All this way for nada. We can't go in there, bombs blasting and guns blazing. Everything within 10 klicks will come running to see what's going on."
"And if we don't get in there, we don't get paid." Moss said.
"And... we have to face Lilith. She won't appreciate us wasting a quarter of a million credits getting out here just to turn around and go home empty-handed." Lockspur added.
"Well, it's decided then," Dahl said. "We make a plan on site."
"Because what can go wrong?" Lockspur said, shaking his head.
Moss jabbed his shoulder. "We're not done yet, amigo. I intend on getting paid for having to come all the way out to the ass end of nowhere."
"And if there's a raptor in there?" Lockspur said.
"Doubtful," Moss said. "We still have one thing we have going for us."
"Light." Dahl said. "And that bridge is full of it."
"None of that matters if you can't get that the windscreen off."
"Hey, Amigo." Moss said. "You're the engineer. So, start engineering. Because if not, we go home with our tails between our legs."
"And you can explain what went wrong." Dahl added.
Moss smiled at Dahl. "I like her more every day."
"Not to be a buzzkill," Lockspur said. "But what about the black box?" He pointed at the cabinet marked Emergency Telemetry Recorder beside a large monitor. "That ship's ETR is in enemy territory."
"It doesn't matter." Moss replied, thinking about the first thing every investigator wanted to find. "Both the ETR and the primary data drives units are already gone. Company investigators would have removed them during their investigation."
"Then how do we determine what caused the crash?" Dahl asked, scowling as if they had wasted a trip.
"That's not the only mission," he said. "Someone scrubbed the passenger manifest from the primary drives. But there's a chance it's still on the backup drive. We need to retrieve that unit and find the remains of the aft compartment to survey the damage."
"And that brings me to another point of contention," Lockspur said, contemplating the absurdity of traveling months in hyper-sleep just to locate questionable electronics. "Doesn't it seem odd to go to these extremes just to retrieve the same information the company has already retrieved?"
"Chill, amigo." Moss said. "Lilith assured us the backup drive would be here."
"Chill my ass," Lockspur snapped. He had legitimate concern. There was a simple question he had asked Lilith before they left. Why are we really going to M6-117? The answer was to change everything. But she would not tell him how that change would take place or who was meeting.
And now they had arrived. It appeared someone was indeed here, and maybe controlling the creatures. But he couldn't tell that to Dahl or Moss, because Lilith swore him to secrecy. So, he took a different tack and asked, "Have you ever seen Lady Hemmingford sink this many credits into a mission that has no financial return? Dahl saw something was wrong here. That's why Lilith sent us."
"The return... is John's son," Dahl replied.
"Bullshit!" Lockspur countered. The heat of his word slammed into Dahl like a runaway freight train. He waved off her incoming rebuff. "They haven't spoken since Will was a boy. And even then, Will hated him. He was a shit husband and an even shittier father."
"That was Helen's fault." Dahl cut in.
"Sure. Sure." Lockspur blurted, pissing her off when he laughed as if she were a naïve child. "Because she got him in a headlock every night and forced him to drink a fifth of whiskey." He knew the full story of how Johns came to be single again, and it was not an impressive tale. Johns was no saint. In fact, in his youth, he had been quite the sinner. "I'm certain it had nothing to do with the fact he was a fall down drunk, an abusive husband and an absent father."
"Says you."
"Ask him yourself, chica." Lockspur said, quite tired of her constant need to defend a life she did not know of. "He was at his best when he passed out. That was the only decent thing he ever did for his family."
"He's not like that anymore."
"Agreed," Lockspur said. "But his current sobriety cannot erase the harms he perpetrated in the past." He threw up his hand. "And neither can your love. The past is what it is and no matter how much we wish it is not so, will not change it."
Dahl jumped from her seat, jammed a long, slender finger in Lockspur's face. She hated being talked down too, or made to feel somehow inferior because of her age or gender. And he had just done all three in 30 seconds. "Don't call me, chica," she snapped, readying herself to do battle. A battle she would not win. Lockspur was old, but a formidable opponent on a bad day.
"Then stop acting like one." Lockspur replied, swatting Dahl's hand away from his wrinkled olive face. "And, for the record, your uncle made peace with those demons long ago. I think it's time you did, too."
"Fine. If we're not here to find Will," she snapped. "Tell me why we are here?"
"Not a clue," he lied with a weak shrug. "But I'm telling you, this trip has nothing to do with finding a son who never wanted to know him."
"Guilt." Moss said, teetering his head as if that might be a good enough reason to shut them both up. He didn't give a shit why they were there. He was interested in how they could complete the mission and get out they were still alive and intact. "It can make people do crazy shit."
"Seriously." Lockspur said, reeling around to meet his eyes. "You're talking about Johns. If you haven't noticed in the last dozen years, Johns doesn't do guilt. And most importantly, Lilith doesn't pay for guilt." Moss nodded. "This mission is cold, calculating and methodical. And even if Johns didn't plan this, you can bet your asses Lilith did."
"Conspiracy theories and monster stories aside, this pointless debate isn't helping. We need that drive," Dahl said, shaking her head as if wanting to drop the whole discussion.
"Can't you see?" Lockspur continued, gesturing at the ship in the distance. "A ship that size should have detonated in the upper atmosphere long before it crash landed. Whatever happened here isn't just wrong; it's impossible. That ship should have detonated on re-entry."
Dahl pointed in the same direction and said, "And yet, there it is. Broken up, but still intact."
"Before I joined Lilith's organization, I crewed long range haulers as chief engineer aboard the C.H.S. Bowmen for 10 years. It was the twin sister to Hunter Gratzner."
"So." Dahl replied, with a what's that got to do with anything tone in her voice.
"So... I'm the one guy in a 1,000 light year circle you should listen to when he says something is wrong with this picture." The stress in his voice giving credence to his belief. "I'm telling you. What happened out there is beyond impossible. A ship that size cannot withstand the gravitational forces exerted on its hull during re-entry. They're space bound. Destined from the scrap yard on IO."
"Regardless," Moss interjected, walking over beside Dahl and leaning in towards the screen. "Our priority is finishing the mission and we're never gonna do that if we stay here arguing physics. So, let's go."
"Wrong." Lockspur fired back. "My priority is staying alive. And going out there reduces our odds of doing that."
"You were well aware of the risks before we came."
"I suspected nothing like this," he countered, gesturing towards the wreckage on the screen. "No one said it was still intact."
"Are you suggesting we turn around and go home without the drive? Without the answers we came for? Without our pay?"
"Hell no," Lockspur replied, remembering his secret mission for Lilith. She might have let him get away with screwing up the regular mission. But he was here to meet someone. And fucking that little arrangement up was not an option. That, and in the twenty years he had worked with Lilith, he had never failed to complete a mission or follow her orders to the letter. So, like it or not, Lockspur had a delivery to make. Even if Lilith had not told him where that delivery would take place or who he was meeting. As for the rest of the mission, he was sure it was just a ruse to get them here. But why couldn't the others see the mission was shit? He looked away, fearing the lie on his lips would show on his face.
"And what about you?" Moss asked, turning to Dahl. "What do you think? You're part of this shit show now? You have skin in the game. Do we cut and run or do we run and gun?"
"Simple," Dahl said, staring at the monitor. "We go get what we came for. But we can't just run out there. Something is off here. I can feel if." Dahl said, swiping a finger across the touchscreen. The quick gesture brought up an image of the entire crash site taken from high overhead. "Look," Dahl said, pointing at the monitor. "The aft section broke off and came to a stop 2 kilometers back there. After we're done on the bridge, we'll can fly back and assess the damage. Two dangerous missions."
"No confrontations." Moss replied, looking at the back of Lockspur's head. "We're in and out before the raptors catch our scent." But even as the words came out of his mouth, he had his own doubts.
"And if they catch our scent?" Lockspur asked Moss' reflection in his monitor.
"We'll take a larger load-out and a few extra frag-grenades," Dahl said, looking at Lockspur. "Hopefully it won't need them, but we need to defend ourselves if we encounter resistance."
Lockspur swiveled around, looked from Dahl to Moss thinking about the gutted behemoth they'd left lying in its own entrails. "It's still risky. But I don't think we have any other options."
"Then let's get geared up, get it done, and get the fuck off this rock." Dahl said, handing him the rifle and leaning against the console beside her.