2041 Sanctuary (Let There Be Light) (66 page)

‘While here I will also seek to refuel my ship in order to return to Earth, although this may prove difficult and time-consuming as I’m unfamiliar with this space station’s configuration. Failing that, there may be an escape pod, or separate module I can utilise to the same end.’

Steeling himself, Tyler used the wall’s handrail to propel himself left, the lights brightening as he passed. Reaching an intersection, he could go any one of five ways. He decided to go up, towards where he’d seen the bridge on approach.

As he moved, all was quiet and yet the questions remained. Where was his captain? Where was Bo Heidfield?

Tyler’s fear increased its vice-like grip.

He glided past a number of sealed doors, each numbered in sequential order. He halted at one marked:

LAB 5, ROOM 6

The hatch hung ajar. Looking around, he pushed out a tentative hand – a hand, he noticed, that trembled. The door swung inwards to reveal a darkness within.

Tyler chased away the black with his torches, which lit up a number of metal worktops, their shiny surfaces playing with the light. All he could hear was his strained breathing, the whoosh of air as he exhaled, followed by a hiss of inhalation.

Whoosh … …

… … hiss … …

… … whoosh … …

… … hiss … …

‘This laboratory appears to be—’ He hesitated. ‘No, there’s something on the slabs.’ He put a reluctant foot inside and the automated systems lit up the room in a dazzle of light. Once all the ceiling panels burned with a white intensity, Tyler moved into the room and floated over to the first table. In its centre lay a flat piece of granite. From its appearance it looked old, very old. But despite its cracked and weathered face, the deep carvings adorning it could still be seen with ease. Tyler reached out a hand to trace the outlines of the symbols around its thick edge, before switching his inspection to where more of these obscure writings decorated its top. In the centre of these was a set of lines, connected together to form a single whole. And where each line met a small, five-pointed star had been exquisitely carved.

Having been involved with everything and anything to do with space for his entire career, and for the majority of his school years, too, for that matter, Tyler recognised the shape instantly: it was the constellation Sagittarius. Moving to the next table revealed another stone tablet, twice the size of the first, but with similar inscriptions. In the centre of this monolith lay another constellation. This one was not well known to most; Tyler knew it as the Charioteer, or Auriga to give it its Latin name. He’d always remembered it because of its geometric shape, rather than for the shape of a charioteer’s helmet from which it got its name. He traced the outline of the pentagonal design, recalling when he’d gazed at it through his father’s telescope as a young boy.

A rumble of sensation swept through the ship and Tyler looked up to listen, his heart beating faster. The ship’s engines had fired up.
It’s just an automation
, he told himself,
just an automation
. At least he hoped it was. He returned to looking at the artefacts, as that’s what they were. Where they were from he didn’t know. They could have been Babylonian, Incan or Egyptian for all he knew. Why such objects had been transported to this remotest of locations he could not begin to guess, but their link to the heavens was clear.

The third and final block sat on a slab apart from its siblings. It glinted shiny black, like crude oil made solid. This piece displayed no sign of wear. Its straight edges and pin sharp carvings looked new and, unlike the other two, this object held a glistening liquid in its centre. Tyler reached out his gloved hand and touched the thick fluid. He held his fingers up to the light. Red blood stood out in stark contrast to the white of his suit. A curious vibration swept through the room, sending ripples across the gory pool. The blood drained into the surrounding runes to reveal another constellation. Tyler gave his head a shake as a sibilant whispering entered his mind.

‘No, that’s nothing to do with me. It’s coincidence, nothing more.’

It’s all to do with you, Tyler,
his mind told him
, it’s only ever been you
.
This place will be your tomb
. He shook his head. ‘There’s nothing here,’ he said, ‘I need to keep moving.’

But his eyes felt drawn to the shape in the centre of the obsidian rock; the sign was his own, the seventh astrological sign in the zodiac, the balanced one, the constellation of Libra.

Chapter Eighty Five

The ship shuddered again and Tyler found himself looking at his white glove. Blood no longer stained his fingers. He looked down at the black stone to see the besmirched surface was anything but. He screwed up his eyes and blinked, but the scene remained the same, devoid of sanguine fluid and pristine in its sterility.

Distressed and confused, he left the room with the artefacts behind and made his way to the ship’s command centre. The twin doors slid aside as he approached and Tyler put his feet to the floor, activated his mag-boots, and walked onto the deserted bridge. Dark screens and hibernating systems covered the walls of the circular room and the main console at its centre.

A light from a single display attracted his attention. Moving to the screen, he saw a scrolling tabular readout alongside the graphical representation of the planet Venus as it orbited the Sun. However, on closer inspection he realised the data wasn’t fixed on the planet at all, but on a smaller object following the same trajectory. Frowning, Tyler touched the screen to expand the image. The planet enlarged and now he could see what was being tracked: a large asteroid in orbit around Venus, effectively a small moon.

A noise made him look up. The protective shield that covered the command centre’s sweeping window, retracted to reveal the dark of space beyond.

His pulse raced as he searched the room with his eyes.

It remained empty.

Tyler let out a sigh.
Accessing the computer must have activated a latent command
–
another automation
.
Is this whole craft run by autonomous computers?
he wondered. With no answer to hand, he returned to analysing the screen. According to the data the space station seemed to be sending out a signal to this distant rock. He tapped the screen again to bring up a new set of scrolling numbers.

‘That can’t be right.’ He stared at the information, but the figures didn’t lie. A signal was being sent, but what disturbed him most was that there was a message coming back!

He looked out at the distant stars and the familiar shapes of the constellations.
What is going on here?
Trying a sequence of commands, he tried to access the signal, but the system was encrypted.

He noticed another window on the display operated beneath the rest. Minimising the data streams unveiled a live stream from a laboratory located somewhere on the ship. In the middle of the floor, surrounded by the lifeless forms of what must have been the crew, was the thing he’d seen aboard Archimedes, the same thing that had caused psychosis and fatal symptoms in his colleagues – the beating heart of Project Ares. The plasma bulged and fluctuated as if alive and Tyler couldn’t take his eyes off it.

A sudden sound filled his body, causing it to spasm. Forced to his knees, he clutched his helmet as pain lanced through his brain. The sound continued, increasing in pitch. Blood trickled from his nose and he let out a cry of agony. And then the sound stopped. Ears ringing, Tyler tore at his helmet’s clasps before pulling it clear. He breathed deep, sucking in great gulps of ice cold air. Feeling light-headed, he touched his glove to his nose and held it up to see the same red blood on white as he’d seen before.
Had it been a vision?

A murmur of noise made him spin round. Nothing was there. He heard it again, louder this time, like a voice.

His laboured breath hung in the bitter atmosphere like mist. ‘Who’s there?’ He looked round for something he could use as a weapon.

‘We’ve been wait – ing … Pil – ot … Com – mander.’

Tyler felt his hackles rise. The voice sounded … unnatural. He spied an axe in the corner of the room, inside a red cabinet. He went over and smashed the glass with an elbow. The shattered debris floated into the room and he grasped the handle.

‘We see … you, Ty – ler,’ the voices whispered.

Tyler’s hands shook as brandished the axe. ‘Where are you?’

‘Clo – se.’

Sensing something behind, he swung round.

Nothing was there.

‘We see … you, Ty – ler,’ the voices said again.

Tyler span round. ‘WHERE ARE YOU?!’

Laughter echoed through his mind, the sound like madness.

Tyler put a hand to an eye as pain lanced through it. The voices sounded like they were inside his head. He stumbled towards the control console.
I have to get out of here
. Pressing some buttons, he tried to locate an escape pod.

The voices came again; he felt disorientated, sick, like he was dying from the inside. He screamed out, ‘WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME!?’

The voices stopped and a shimmering light appeared in the doorway. His stomach clenched in terror. ‘It’s here,’ he whispered, ‘I can hear—’

A shadow fell across him and Tyler looked up to see a figure floating near the ceiling.

‘Captain?’

The ship shuddered and span, gravity formed and the captain’s eyes flared open. His body fell and slammed Tyler into the floor.

Pinned down, Tyler could feel powerful hands digging into his suit. Terrified he tried to move, but he was held fast. He could hear breathing and his eyes strained down to see the top of Bo Heidfield’s head creeping up towards him.

Un-dead eyes stared into his and a whimper of fear escaped Tyler’s lips.

The captain’s face distorted, turning transparent, and a shimmer of light glittered under his flesh.

Tyler saw his own horror reflected in the beast’s mask.

The captain’s dead flesh ruptured and the thing that possessed him pushed out like a monstrous larva before entering Tyler’s face. Skin parted, bone buckled and cracked, and Tyler’s terrified screams echoed into the ship.

His body thrashed and writhed before eventually falling still.

Silence fell and the background hum of the space station continued unheard. Pilot Commander Tyler Magnusson, the last surviving crew member of the U.S.S.S. Archimedes, had joined those who’d gone before him in the eternal bond from which there was no return, the eternal bond of death.

Chapter Eighty Six

Richard Goodwin woke to a blazing headache. He groaned and opened his eyes to find himself propped up against a large step on an equally enormous staircase that disappeared into misty darkness below. Looking up, he could just make out the outline of the Anakim Sphinx’s massive head high above.

Someone bent down and pulled up one of his eyelids. ‘How you feeling, sir?’

Goodwin pushed the man’s hand away. ‘Like someone just hit me on the head. Where’s your captain?’

The Darklight operative stood aside to reveal his superior officer.

Captain Winter, who’d been studying a map, handed it to one of his men and glanced round as Goodwin got to his feet.

‘Ah, Director, you’re awake, good. I need to ask you some questions.’

‘After we free Rebecca.’

‘I’m sorry, sir, no can do. We’re under strict orders to take you straight to camp. Once you’re back safe and sound we’ll return and see what can be done about the girl.’

Goodwin shook his head, which made it throb. ‘No. We go back for her now. Do you hear me, soldier? That’s a direct order.’

‘My orders come from the major and Dr. Vandervoort, nothing you say will convince me otherwise, sir. What you can do is tell me the whereabouts of Lieutenant Manaus, Corporal Walker, and his men.’

Goodwin felt his anger rise, before the thought of the lieutenant swamped him with guilt. ‘She’s dead, Walker too. The rest, I don’t know – gone.’

‘Gone where?’

Goodwin felt his anger swell once more. ‘I said, I don’t know, goddamn it!’

Winter grasped his shirt and yanked him forward. ‘You think you’re the only one with a right to be upset?’

Goodwin stared into the Captain’s seething eyes.

‘You just tell me my sister’s dead and
you’re
angry?!’

Goodwin didn’t know what to say. He had no idea Winter and Manaus were related. ‘I’m sorry, I … the lieutenant, she was a good woman.’

Winter fought for control, his eyes rich with emotion. ‘Yes, she was. The best.’

‘Sir?’ a Darklight soldier said.

Winter let Goodwin go and turned to his subordinate. ‘What is it?’

‘I’m not sure; my scans are picking up a strange build-up in static electricity, along with a seismic fluctuation.’

‘Earthquake?’

The woman shook her head. ‘No, I don’t think so; it’s more like a resonance.’

The stone under Goodwin’s feet trembled and a piece of rock fell bouncing down the staircase, followed by some smaller fragments.

Winter shouldered his rifle. ‘Let’s move!’

The floor continued to shake as they clattered down the oversized stairs. As they reached the bottom a whoosh of noise made everyone look up. A massive torrent of water exploded from the sphinx’s mouth.

Winter pulled Goodwin on as they reached the treacherous pits of black tar. Behind, the flood continued unabated.

Retracing their steps using the software maps in their Darklight helmets, the soldiers quickly worked their way back through the quagmire. Nearing the standing stones, the pools of black ooze bubbled over as if boiling. A jet of tar erupted into the air like a geyser, barely missing Goodwin as he passed. Another spout of black followed, and then another and another.

Goodwin glanced back to see a wall of water rushing across the plain towards them.

‘Pick it up!’ Winter shouted above the roar.

They were running now, under the stones and beyond into the narrow tunnel.