Authors: Jeremy Robinson
BENEATH - A Novel (28 page)
The black shape moved again, this time shifting forward. Choi eased herself toward the ATV. If she had to flee, she wanted to do it fast, not bumbling on her feet. She knew she'd make an easy target to anything accustomed to low gravity. Choi slid on to the seat and gripped the ignition key, ready to speed away at a moment's notice.
The creature inched forward. It stood on two feet, but appeared hunched and its movements were jerky, strange. Choi struggled to see into the dark and noted that the creature also had two arms. It was humanoid…a completely unrealistic evolutionary adaptation, Choi realized.
This was not a local.
Then who?
She didn't have to wait long for an answer.
The figure stepped into the light. Choi saw the face of Peterson staring back at her through his PMS mask. She couldn't read the expression on his face; it made no sense, like a newborn baby attempting to figure out how to use its facial muscles. And his eyes. They were blood red.
Choi's apprehension didn't fade at the sight of her crewmate. She realized that his presence here was completely unsanctioned by Harris, which meant something had gone very wrong on the Surveyor.
Suddenly, Peterson stood up very straight and smiled wide. "I saw you kick that Europhid," he said, shaking his head. "That wasn't a very nice thing to do."
*
*
*
*
*
Cold bit at Willard's body. He was covered by a layer of thermal underwear, a jumpsuit and the PMS, but it wasn't the temperature making him cold. Temperature-wise, the water was warmer than the gripping cold of space. It was the stark loneliness he felt. As a child he had often wondered what it would be like to fall down a bottomless pit. He'd seen several cartoon characters suffer the fate, but could never quite capture what it might feel like—an endless fall.
The barren walls of ice that surrounded Willard as he swam straight down through the TES hole held little interest. He was sure Robert and Connelly had discussed the different layers, which passed every few feet, marked by a slight change in ice color. But to him, this was a boring and lonely descent.
Not for long
, he thought.
Willard wasn't the type to get nervous before taking action. He normally jumped right in and felt at home. But this trek through the deep, unable to see anything beyond the thirty feet his waterproof headlamp could reach… If the propulsion pack on his back wasn't speeding him along, he knew that he might die of starvation before reaching the open ocean. Though he made sure to keep his speed reasonable, too fast and he might lose control and careen into the ice wall.
A black hole appeared below. He could see nothing beyond it.
The cave walls disappeared as he plummeted into the open ocean. Willard came to a complete stop, hovering in space, attempting to get a bearing on his location. Looking up, Willard noticed the gentle waves of ice in the ceiling. Beautiful. But other than that, the water was too cloudy to see anything at all.
How did Connelly and Robert see where they were going
? Willard wondered,
and how did they see anything alive in this milk
?
He thought back to his communications with Connelly while he was topside. What was it she had him do? Switch off the lights? It was worth a try. He would never find them with such poor visibility.
Willard turned off his headlamp and was plunged into a deep, weightless, darkness.
Willard's eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness. He could make out the faint impressions of the glowing world around him. His mouth opened as he saw what had lured Connelly and Robert away from the sphere cable. "Wow…"
A surge of water passed by, causing Willard to spin in place. His gear stretched out away from his waist like a dancer's skirt. When he came to a complete stop he realized that something had just swam past him—close enough for its wake to send him spinning.
Willard gripped the controls of his propulsion pack and prepared to launch himself towards the ocean floor. He couldn't make it out fully, but whatever had passed appeared to be the size of a skyscraper and was quickly turning around. Its dark shape was silhouetted by the slightly brighter waters. As the beast reared around, Willard saw a wiggling creature floating above its head…a parasite?
Click, click, click.
Willard shouted in agony as sound pounded through the water and bounced off his body. Willard's eyes burst open. He was concealed in the water. With no light to give away his position, he was invisible to the naked eyes. But something had tipped this creature off to his whereabouts…and now it knew exactly where to strike.
Willard felt a wave of displaced water suddenly push on him. The creature was charging! As Willard throttled the propulsion pack to full speed, he thought,
this must be the same creature that chased Connelly
.
Is it waiting for them
?
Or is this its normal stomping ground
?
Shooting straight down, Willard was sure that a creature of that size wouldn't be agile enough to make the turn and follow him. He turned back to look and was pleased when he saw nothing there—just the black, black water. He turned forward again and saw the glowing ocean floor. He smiled as he noticed it was alive with living creatures and plants.
Confusion gripped Willard's mind as he attempted to comprehend what he saw next. From above and below, massive spikes closed in, blocking his view of the bottom. As the walls closed in, the darkness around him grew more intense.
Click, click, click.
The sounds were so loud that all Willard could do was scream and cover his ears. When the resounding pulses dissipated, he felt an echo of vibration tingling through his body.
He looked for the ocean floor. It was gone; replaced by pitch black space.
With a shaking hand, Willard flicked on his headlamp. "Shit." He spoke the word calmly. He knew where he was—in the mouth of an alien predator. And he knew there was only one way out, that is, if aliens had similar digestive tracks to Earth animals. He prayed they did, and that the PMS suit would be strong enough to withstand the beast's digestive juices. Then he would make the most undignified escape of his life…
Well Jonah
, Willard thought,
if you're watching this and have any ideas
…. No visions came to him, not that he really expected them to.
Fine then
, he thought,
just don't laugh at me after I die
.
The creature swallowed and sucked Willard down its throat and into its 747 sized stomach, where an ocean of acid began to work at breaking down the PMS suit.
A series of questions sprang to Choi's mind all at once. How had Peterson come down to the surface? He wasn't a trained pilot. What happened to Harris? Why weren't the com systems working? What was wrong with Peterson's eyes? That was just the beginning. But she dared not speak, not a single word. Something was wrong with Peterson.
His red eyes were locked onto her. With flexed arms and clenched fingers, he stalked slowly forward. She kept moving, trying to keep the ATV between them. But Peterson moved in a wide circle, tightening his distance with every step.
Choi had no desire to make a stand against Peterson. He was stronger than she was and very physically fit. And in the low gravity she was clumsy and slow. But running was impossible. In the time it took her to mount the ATV and start the engine, Peterson would be on top of her. She would have to injure or distract him long enough to make her escape.
As she looked into his fiery eyes, she could see nothing but loathing.
What happened to him
? She rounded the back of the ATV, Peterson came around the front, his back to the field of Europhids. It was at that moment that Choi noticed his eye color perfectly matched the red hue of the field.
No…
Peterson seemed to notice the change in expression on her face. He stopped his advance and took on a very unnatural stance. "I understand what you are thinking."
Choi didn't say a word. The voice sounded vaguely like Peterson's, but it wasn't him speaking. Like he was possessed.
Controlled.
"How did we…get inside his mind?" Peterson twisted his lips with an expression that was a poor imitation of deep thought. "The world…all you see…was created by me. By us. All of us. Me. Do you understand?"
Choi stood her ground, but slowly moved her hand to the side of the ATV storage trailer.
"I have seen what he has seen…this Michael Peterson. I know what he knows. You are not my children and you are not welcome here."
Choi slid her hand inside the trailer. "Why are we not welcome?"
"You are a contamination."
Choi shuddered. Whatever had possessed Peterson saw them the way humanity viewed disease, germs, bacteria—the enemy, who could be wiped out without any moral qualms. To the unknown denizens of this moon, they were the foreign invaders,
they
were the disease.
"We only want to understand you."
"Ironic, that in taking this mind," Peterson said as he motioned to his own head, "I now fully understand who
I
am."
Choi waited.
"I am the father of this world. I am the defender, the protector. I give life and I take life."
A growing apprehension about what and who she was speaking to began to churn a stew of vomit deep inside Choi. She was accustomed to the microscopic world; an enemy that could not speak. What she experienced now felt entirely unnatural. It felt wrong.
It felt
evil
.
With the next words out of Peterson's mouth, she knew it was.
"I am that I am," Peterson said"
The words shot through Choi's mind like a bullet and came to a stop at a memory from four years ago. During a weekend excursion to visit in old friend in
I am
.
And now, Peterson, under the control of…something, had identified himself word for word, as God.
Choi's memory snapped back to a few months previous. She recalled a conversation over dinner during their days spent training at the GEC faculty. Robert and Peterson were exchanging personal histories. Both had grown up in the Church, Robert in a Catholic family, Peterson in a Baptist. Whatever had taken control of Peterson's mind must have merged with his thoughts taking on the identity of his memories it most identified with.
He—
it—
believed it was God.
The solid metal handle of a trowel grazed across her fingertips and returned her thoughts to the present. She reached inside the ATV trailer and grabbed the nearest tool, a trowel that she'd used to dig up Europhid samples. She would now use it as a weapon.
She glanced down at the trowel as she gripped it, then back to Peterson. She was relieved to see he hadn't made any further movement, but the look of total confidence unnerved her to the core. "You're not God," she said.
"I am the beginning," Peterson said as he took a step forward.
Choi stepped back, keeping the trowel hidden behind her body.
Peterson jumped and floated gracefully through the low gravity. He landed a few feet from Choi. "I am the end."
"I am everywhere and know everything." He was only a few feet away.
"All you are," Choi said, "is delusional." Before Peterson could respond, Choi brought the trowel around and bashed the side of Peterson's head. A vibration shook through Choi's arm as metal collided with skull. The force of the blow surprised Choi and she suddenly became concerned that she may have killed her crewmate.
Any fear that Peterson was dead dissipated when she recovered from her swing and came face to face with Peterson, who was leaning forward, burrowing into her mind with his eyes. He smiled. "You cannot hurt God with a shovel."
With an amazing burst of speed, Peterson reached forward, clasped onto Choi's PMS and lurched her up into the air. She sailed over ten feet of ice before the world below her turned red. He had thrown her towards the Europhids. Choi watched as the ground approached and wondered if the impact would hurt. She was moving fast and falling hard, but the Europhids would break her fall…or would they?
Choi's body collided with solid ice. The Europhids had moved out of the way. Her head struck the ice hard. Brilliant colors warbled in her view, combined with sparks of white light.
As consciousness faded, Choi became aware of a strange sensation. Something soft touched her body on all sides. It caressed her gently, lifting her up onto a comfortable mattress. Points of pressure undulated against her legs and torso like she was being held up by a crowd at a concert. She was being moved.
She was being taken.