Dawn of Procyon (17 page)

Chapter 32

PSD 29-213: 1641 hours

Landry watched as the black goo began to seep out of the basalt, shimmering and writhing more like a living creature than a liquid. There were discrete sections of it, he noted, like tiny globular ants slipping across the smooth, dark grey surface, splitting apart and rejoining, only to split apart again. They were drawn to the tentacles and stuck fast to its edges. Their composition shifted, solidifying until they almost looked like tiny spikes. Landry was reminded of an experiment he’d done as a kid in Grandpa’s garage, using some iron shavings and a bar magnet he’d swiped from school. The pieces of iron had stood on end, bristling madly around the magnet.

This goo looked just like that.

It only lasted for a second or two, and then the goo began to seep away.

A loud whoosh sounded across the wasteland, just like before.

Landry was ready for it this time.
Kinda
. However, the suddenness of it still made him jump. He’d maintained a healthy skepticism about achieving anything since he’d retrieved the arm, but now something was definitely happening. Landry had triggered a reaction. Whether it was a security system that would promptly vaporize him, or something else, he would have to wait and see.

The large boulder ahead of him—the one that had seemed to shimmer underneath—shifted again. From his new angle, Landry could see that it
was
rotating, and lifting slightly at the same time by some unseen force. It did not seem like a normal rock at all. Underneath was some kind of pearlescent black substance that caught the dwindling rays of Proc-One’s twilight. The sound intensified for a moment, then the boulder came to a halt.

Beneath the rock was a passageway that led down under the ground.

“What in the . . . ?” he breathed.

“It seems our experiment worked,” HAIRI said, sounding pleased with himself. “We have opened a gateway. I believe I theorized this would happen.”

“It’s not a gateway, HAIRI. It’s just a hole in the dirt.”

“Nevertheless, it is a portal of some kind.”

“A portal to what?”

“I believe there is a way to find that out.”

Landry stared down the dark hole. “It can’t be a passageway under the ground. No way. The Marines came through here last week and scanned the area. They would have done a full subterranean profile here. If there were any underground chambers or hidden bases, they’d have found them.”

“And yet it does appear to be a hole in the ground.” HAIRI paused. “Are you going to enter?”

Landry pressed his lips together. “Why do I get the impression that this is the mother of all bad ideas?”

“I agree with you.”

Landry raised an eyebrow. “You do?”

“Yes. There are multiple issues with this course of action. I will name the most obvious: when you move underground, your solar receptors will no longer draw power from the sky. Even though Procyon A has set, I detect that there is still a moderate amount of charge being generated by the light from Procyon B.”

“But I should have enough juice in the battery to last me for a few hours at least, right? This thing has been sitting in the sun all day.”

“This is true, but the OXEE has been operating the entire time, as well as yours truly. That would have kept the battery from recharging entirely.”

“Can you interface with the battery to tell me how much charge is left?”

“I cannot. It appears that you broke the data cable while you were extracting it from the scout.”

“Sorry. I was in a hurry.”

“In any case, I would suggest you think carefully about proceeding.”

Landry sighed, staring at the hole in the ground, then at the terrain around him. Sure, the idea of heading down into this . . .
Toad’s lair
, or whatever it was, scared the life out of him. He was literally shaking at the thought of it. And yet, what other options were available to him,? He could continue to wander around the wasteland, seeing how far he could drag the toboggan, but in truth, his strength had all but deserted him. He was
wasted
from his exertions during the day. He was thirsty,
so
thirsty. He felt weak and tired, and the fact that he hadn’t eaten all day wasn’t helping either. He would give anything to have some food in his belly right at that moment.

But there was not the slightest chance he was going to make it 300 clicks back to the outpost. For all he knew, his oxygen was going to run out regardless of whether he went down that hole or not.

All he had left was the thought of finding the antenna module. Maybe he could even sneak up on the Toad down there, surprise it, and whack it on the head with a rock.

Man. Imagine the scumbag’s face when that happened.

He smiled grimly.

“Come on, HAIRI. Let’s go spit on its barbecue.”

Chapter 33

PSD 29-213: 1131 hours

Cait waited as the bulkhead door retracted, and then she stepped through onto the gleaming floor beyond. Feeling totally out of place, she forced herself to keep going.

Just get this over and done with.

She’d only visited the Outpost Control level once before. That had been the day she’d first arrived on Proc-One. She remembered they’d registered her prints, taken a bunch of other biometric data and made her sign a seemingly never ending procession of forms that outlined her rights and responsibilities while residing at this particular “facility.” It had seemed like a whole lot of bureaucratic nonsense to her at the time, and it probably was, but she hoped the thoroughness of their processing procedures would be of benefit to her now.

She wanted to just hand over this administrative nonsense regarding Landry to someone else and get back to her job.

Walking hesitantly along the corridor, she allowed her eyes to adjust to the relative brightness of Outpost Control. This department was located on the highest floor of the outpost, and there were expensive, blast-resistant transparencies overhead that let in the natural light from outside, like the ones in the Ag-rooms. Everything gleamed, and she detected a pleasant, clean smell about the place (citrus?) that made a nice change to the stink of most other places on Proc-Rock.

Still, she couldn’t wait to be out of here. She didn’t feel that she belonged in a place like this, no matter how appealing its aesthetic qualities happened to be.

“Can I help you?” She turned to see a young man in a black suit leaning casually in the doorway to a nearby office, sipping a cup of tea. His hair was slicked back and he was clean shaven, something Cait wasn’t used to seeing in the workshop.

“Uh, yeah. I just need to register a death certificate for someone.”

“Not you, I hope,” he said, his eyes twinkling.

Is he flirting with me?
She smiled. “Do I really look
that
bad?”

“Not at all. You just look like you’ve had a rough day. I’d hate for you to drop dead right in front of my office.”

“Because then you’d have to step over my corpse to go refill your cup of tea?”

“Come on. I’d treat you much nicer than that.”

“I’m not going to die in front of you today.” She gave him a wink. “Maybe tomorrow.”

He lifted a finger and pointed. “Take the corridor on your right. Third left.”

“Thanks.”

He gave a little nod and smiled. “See you tomorrow.”

“Right.”

She followed his directions and found a woman in a pristine white business suit sitting with perfect posture behind a laminate desk, tapping away on her console. She looked up as Cait entered and greeted her with a smile.

“Good morning.” She wore a glinting gold name tag on her suit.
Brenda
.

“Hi. I’m here to register a death certificate and notify the next of kin.”

“I should be able to help you with that.” Brenda indicated to a seat on the other side of the desk. “Just give me a few moments to finish up here.”

“Sure.” Cait sat and looked around the room, which was neat and sparsely furnished but pleasing to the eye. Even despite the aesthetics, Cait couldn’t imagine herself working here. She was at home inside the guts of transport assemblies, her arms covered in grease, not sitting behind a desk in a perfectly sanitized environment.

But Dad would have loved to have seen me there in my perfectly pressed business suit, wouldn’t he? Typing up death certificates all day—

“Your name, please?” the woman said.

“I’m Cait Underwood.”

“Position?”

“I’m a maintenance supervisor.”

Brenda pushed a sensor toward her. “Just press your thumb here for verification.”

Cait did as she asked, and the system brought up her details. “Okay, that all looks fine. So, a death certificate, you said?”

“Yeah.”

“Is it possible to have access to the corpse to verify identification?”

“Not right now, no.”

Brenda’s eyes flicked across the console. She appeared to be reading from a script. “Was the deceased maimed beyond recognition?”

“I have no idea.”

“Was the deceased vaporized, or otherwise reduced to fine particles?” She arched her eyebrow at Cait’s look of confusion. “I need to enter a reason why we can’t offer ID.”

“Oh. He left the outpost and didn’t come back.”

“Missing and presumed dead,” Brenda said, seemingly satisfied as she tapped on the keyboard.

“I guess so.”

“I like those ones.” She offered Cait a reassuring smile. “No mess.”

“Yeah.”

“Name of the deceased?”

“Landry Stanton.”

Brenda pulled up Landry’s records, and Cait saw what looked like a passport photo appear on the terminal. Brenda flicked through several datasheets, quickly scanning the data with practiced surety.

“Your relationship to Mr. Stanton?”

“He’s my supervisor. Well, he
was
.”

“Mmm-hmm. I see a flag here on his records here that he left the outpost yesterday without leave.”

“Yes, that’s right.”

“And he didn’t come back?”

“No.”

“All right. I think that’s enough information to put this through the system.”

“I was told that his next of kin needs to be informed? Can you do that?”

“No, that’s not something we do,” Brenda said. “But I can supply the details for you to do that.”

Cait sighed. “Yeah. Okay.”

“Here we are,” the woman said, accessing the appropriate record. “Oh, this is an easy one. Next of kin is right here at the outpost.”

“Really?” Cait edged forward, intrigued. “Who is it?”

“That would be one Ms. F. Gertz. Lives and works down in the Cross.”

Cait wondered if this could be the woman in the photographs, the redhead. Had Landry been keeping her presence a secret from the other Optechs all this time?

“Do you have a picture of her?”

The woman scrolled through her records. “There’s none on file. Must have slipped through processing.” She glanced at Cait. “Do you need me to write down this address?”

“No. I know the area pretty well.”

“Fine.” Brenda smiled. “Is there anything else I can do for you?”

“That should be it, thanks.”

“Welcome. We’ll forward the death certificate to the area manager, a Mr. L. Dodge. After that, there’ll be some more paperwork to sort out the financials of the deceased and a few other matters.”

Cait nodded and got up, inclining her head in thanks.

Then she left the gleaming office and headed for the Cross.

Chapter 34

PSD 29-213: 1656 hours

Landry moved forward tentatively, the toboggan sliding along the sand behind him. The hole under the boulder sloped down at a steep incline. He paused at the edge, taking one last look at the outside world and the stars that were shining faintly in the sky. Then he began his descent.

He braced one hand against the toboggan to prevent it from sliding down and knocking his feet out from under him. After a couple of meters the tunnel leveled out, and he let go of the toboggan and stood up straight.

As the darkness enveloped him, Landry activated the headlamp on his EVA suit, and recoiled at what he saw in front of him.

A wall of yellow opaque slime or mucus hung across the passageway, shifting slightly as the outside air buffeted against it. Clinging to the edges of the tunnel, the slime seemed to form a complete seal, effectively hiding anything behind it.

“That’s just . . .
disgusting
,” Landry said. The boulder above began to rumble again, and Landry pressed up against the wall. Sand and dust fell down from the ceiling, and the ground trembled, but a few moments later the boulder had come to rest again.

Landry was trapped. There was no way back.

He turned back to the mucus.

“I was hoping there might be a way around this gunk,” he said.

“It seems there is not.”

“Any thoughts on what it is, HAIRI?”

“A defensive mechanism, perhaps?”

“So it’s going to zap me, or burn a hole in my suit. Something like that.”

“It may merely trap you and prevent you from proceeding further.”

“Or
leaving
. Like a fly in a spider’s web.”

“Yes. I like this analogy.”

“I’m
so
glad to hear that.”

Landry glanced around, picked up a rock at his feet, and pitched it at the mucus.

The rock fell to the floor and the wall of mucus vibrated slightly, but nothing else happened.

“Doesn’t look sticky,” Landry remarked.

“No. That only leaves electrocution, burning—”

“We don’t need to go through every single possible way it could kill me,” he said, then began to look around for another rock to throw.

You already tried the rock, Landry. You’re stalling.
He gathered up his courage.
Do you want the AI to tell you to man up again?

That did it. He stepped forward, close enough to touch the mucus, then reached out with his gloved hand. He hesitated one last time, then pushed against it.

Nothing happened.
Good result
, he thought.

The mucus felt weird, like a springy trampoline that gave just a little under his touch. He spread his feet, then pushed a little harder. There was even more give. It was getting easier to push.

Then he realized his hand was going
through
the mucus.

He snatched it back, and the wall wobbled frantically.

“Okay, this is definitely weird.”

“I believe you may be able to pass through this substance, Landry.”

“Yeah. You might be right.”

He tried again, pushing more firmly this time, and his arm began to disappear through the wall. He took another step forward. The mucus clung to his EVA suit, forming a seal around it.

“You know, this might be their version of an airlock, or a seal of some kind,” he said.

“Yes. That is a possibility.”

He pushed his visor through, and the next moment he was on the other side of the wall, the blackness of the tunnel ahead of him once more.

“Not dead,” he said, relieved, glancing back at the wobbling mucus. He pulled the toboggan through, then pulled out his flashlight and turned off his headlamp. He directed his flashlight down the corridor. “That’s the first obstacle negotiated.”

“An excellent start.”

As he waved the flashlight around, he noticed something odd about the walls. They didn’t look entirely like rock anymore. Woven into the holes in the basalt were long, ropey black protuberances, stretching around the entire tunnel in a kind of spiral pattern. There was a shimmering quality to the surfaces here as well, much like the boulder at the entrance. Landry had the feeling that the tunnel was alive, much like the dogfighter had supposedly been—that he was inside a living thing.

It gave him the creeps.

“So, do you think they could have built this thing in a week?” he said, trying to get his mind off that thought.

“It seems unlikely, but since we have such little understanding about their technology, I could not say for sure.”

“And if it
has
been here longer than a week, why didn’t the UEM detect it?”

HAIRI didn’t respond, so Landry gripped the toboggan strap and began to pull.

I’ve come this far. Might as well go all the way.

He edged forward slowly at first. The ropey, vine-like surface of the floor was bumpy in places, and it made hauling the gear difficult.

The thing that put him most on edge was the lack of sound. There was nothing he could hear out there in the darkness except his own labored breathing and the shuffle of his feet. No sound of footsteps headed, or of the Argoni doing whatever it was it did in this place.

Nothing. Just cold, dark silence.

He realized something else at that moment. He could no longer hear air coming into his suit.

The OXEE.

“HAIRI, I think I’ve lost my oxygen supply.”

“Yes. It appears as though you are correct.”

“Why? The battery can’t have run out of juice already. You’re still operating.”

“Perhaps it is a malfunction of some kind.”

“Well, I need you to interrogate it and find out what’s going on. Right now.”

“That is not possible. I do not have an interface to the unit in the configuration you have created.”

“So I’ll plug you directly into its output bus. You can draw power from there.”

“Warning. That is not an advised course of action. My power input rating is incompatible with the OXEE bus. Even a minor power surge could cause irreparable damage—”

Landry felt his panic rise. He needed oxygen. He knew that had to be his first concern. The OXEE needed to be brought back online at all costs.

“I’m sorry, HAIRI, but I don’t have a choice.” He reached down and shifted the connector from the battery over to the OXEE bus, then checked HAIRI’s front panel LED. It was blank. “HAIRI? Are you there?”

No reply.

He’ll come online again. Give him a minute.

He wasn’t sure he really believed that.

Fighting off despair, he considered what to do. With no oxygen supply, the best idea would be to sit and conserve what little air he had, he decided. When HAIRI was successful in bringing the OXEE back online, then he could get moving again.

If
HAIRI is successful
, a voice at the back of his mind said.

He settled onto the floor, then looked around. The tunnel place was dark, foreboding, and utterly terrifying. He was in the Argoni’s domain now. He’d felt outmatched up there on the surface of Proc-One, but down here . . . here it was a hundred times worse.

He felt as though he were a bug that had wandered deep into a spider’s lair, into a pit from which there was no escape.

He had no weapons, and he was exhausted. There was no help coming.

No one would ever find him here, trapped deep beneath the surface, even if the Argoni somehow decided to leave him alone.

His breath was becoming more and more rapid as he fought the panic. He was wasting his oxygen, he knew that. But there was nothing he could do to stop it.

Needing an outlet for his frustration, he clenched his fist and slammed it against the wall behind him.

Suddenly, the floor beneath him throbbed and shifted dramatically, then dropped out from under him.

He cried out and grasped for purchase, but found none. He fell, spinning through the air for a moment before scraping loudly against a sharp section of wall. Then he crashed onto a hard surface again. The air went out of his lungs in a whoosh, and a split second later, the toboggan crashed down beside him, partially coming apart in the impact. He cried out once more and tried to scramble to his feet, but he only succeeded in falling over again.

He lifted himself on his hands and knees, and a desperate sob escaped his lips.

No. Don’t give up. Get a grip. Get up.

Landry crawled over to the toboggan. The life support gear had been battered. The solar panel was cracked and crushed on one corner; the battery severely dented. The OXEE had taken a beating as well.

“HAIRI, you okay?” There was no response. “HAIRI?”

Landry picked up the pieces, righted the toboggan. Looking back, he could see that the floor had somehow reconfigured itself, and now a ledge had appeared that was perhaps two meters tall. Had he caused that by striking the wall, he wondered? Was the tunnel reacting to him, or worse, trying to trap him?

It didn’t matter now. He wasn’t going to get back up there with the life support gear in tow.
Not in a hurry
, he thought.

He sat down next to the toboggan again, shaken, and tried to compose himself. He felt a strange sensation on his left hip, a dull ache, and wondered if he’d broken something.

Wouldn’t that be perfect?

The news kept getting better. He’d damaged the flashlight. It was flickering.

He panned the beam about the corridor, at those sickening black vines, and he waited for them to come alive and begin to wrap around his ankles, crawl their way up his legs. Burrow their way inside his EVA suit—

Then the flashlight went out.

Now he was alone, in the dark, with no air, trapped in some sort of Toad cave.

Who knows how many of the things are down here?

He could still see a little, due to the fact that the glow from his HUD was splashing out vaguely onto the walls. He could make out a few scant details for a meter around him, maybe even two.

And that was when he saw it. There was something falling from the ceiling. It looked like
rain
, of all things. Light, misting rain, wafting down from the ceiling like a shifting curtain of grey, dappling his visor in tiny droplets.

I don’t understand this
, he thought miserably.
I don’t understand any of this. And I don’t want to be here.

”HAIRI?” he said. “Talk to me.”

But still there was no answer.