Kraken Orbital (23 page)

And I
can finally see why. The gas that had choked me
for this long is flowing freely and steeply out of a sizeable crack
in the side of the hull. I can finally see more than an inch ahead
of me. More than whatever section of the billowing cloud whatever
makeshift light source I might have come by had lit up for
me.

I
c
an see right through the honeycomb
structure of the armor plating that lines the hull and back out
into the word beyond. The snow must have stopped but the mountain
pass we had left behind still lays covered in the virgin white fall
from earlier. It’s cold again quite suddenly but I’m glad of it. Of
the fresh air too. Even though it hurts my face through the mask.
It burns into my lungs that had become too used to the warmth of
the ship. Or relative warmth at least.

I can see
that the path ahead is cle
ar of the gas,
as it all escapes out of the side of the hull, but I still don’t
risk taking off my mask just for the time being. I remember from
her drawing that the section ahead is flooded, though I’m
struggling to imagine how or why at this height.

Out of the
crack in the hull I c
an see for miles and
miles in the clear sky. I suddenly become glad that I’m inside. The
vastness of this word and its sheer lack of any kind of
civilization makes it daunting. This little ship is at least some
kind of memento of a life more normal to me.

I wouldn’t last a day out there. At least not
without Kolt.

I
tr
y some of the doors by me and find them
all locked. My heart is filled with panic again and my access card
isn’t working on any of them either.
How could Lucy have made it this far if all of the doors
were locked?
The answer was staring at
me. Out in the maze of metal that was the honeycombed shell of the
armor plating I can see a tiny bit of her jacket torn against one
of the sharper edges.

She must have climbed out and around the
locked doors. I knew she was brave. But this is extreme.

As soon as
I
’d realized what she had done, I
instinctively look down, and immediately wish I hadn’t. With the
gas stumbling up in a flume toward the atmosphere outside, I can
see clearly through the curved and arced superstructure of the
armor plate.

There was a
long way down. Higher than that mountain pass Kolt and I had
climbed. More exposed. And more obstacles to hit on the way down
too. The space was marred with metal bars and beams running from
one side of the
armor plate and back to
the hull. There’s plenty to hold onto at least. There’s no other
way. I have to climb it.

So I just
ha
ve to get on with it. To Hell with all
of the fear. To Hell with that distant but encroaching thought and
fears of failure. To Hell with all of it. Do or die. I came here,
to this world, away from the mine, prepared to die. Time to nut up
or shut up!

I pull my
brittle frame through the gap in the hull an
d take tight hold of the first vertical beam. It’s freezing
to the touch as I expected. I don’t even look down. I don’t stop so
my mind can’t entertain the thought of falling. I step with as much
grace as I think I’ve ever had along a section of beams and reach
out for the corner where the side of her jacket had become
snagged.

I
t
ake the fabric for no real reason and
stuff it into my pocket, then stop for a quick break. I’m conscious
of looking down. Conscious to avoid it. So I look up
instead.

I hear
them scream. But barely make out the shape of a
body fall past me and down into the shell of the ship. By the time
my eyes had caught up with the speed of their fall, they were gone.
And all I made out was a dark shadow race past my eyes. But I did
hear them scream. A throaty, desperate and pleading scream that was
ultimately short lived. I couldn’t hear them hit the bottom. I was
high up in the structure and there was a long drop in front of
me.

In disbelief
I look
up again and try to see where the
mysterious figure had fallen from. But I saw nothing. The gas that
had plagued me thus far was shrouding the way. That thick noxious
gas from which no light escaped.
Could I have imagined that too?

I tighten my
grip on the next bar and lurch forward to the next. I step over
another gaping chasm and ke
ep going until
I see another gap in the hull to my left. That must have been where
she had gone. In fact I’m sure of it. There is, and it is a miracle
I saw it at all through my quickly fogged gas mask lenses, a tiny
splurge of blood against the crack to the innards of the ship. She
must have caught her hand or something on the doorway.

There
’s a lot of exposed metal
out here. I hope she is ok. I leap, rather bravely, back into the
hallway. Which is no longer filled with noxious gas thankfully. I
try to get my mask off right away but my hands are having none of
it. I had been even colder out in the exposed section of the armor
plating than I was used to.

My adrenaline
is going too though and I was trying so hard but couldn’t grip at
all. So I just leave it alone for now.

There had to be someone else on this ship!
It was the only answer I can come up with that I
feel comfortable with. It’s the only one that explained everything
short of my god like vision of the scene where Kolt had died. The
figures in the gas. The burning man in the hall, and the falling
person just now.

There had to
be
another group of survivors on this
ship.
But who could they
be?
Maybe survivors from the original
crash? That was a stupid thought, or so my mind recoiled as soon as
the words had crossed the metaphorical lips of the voice inside my
own head. But it was right to.

This ship had
crashed a very long time ago. The thought almost hurt. It made me
think of Kolt. My friend, who I was doomed to never see
again.
Maybe, I press on with my line of
inquiry, maybe they were survivors of the same ship that had
brought Lucy here. Maybe they were from the Morris-Cooper company
too? If that was the case, I had been lucky to dodge them so
closely.

Even though
she had lost her memor
y, or claimed to at
least, I have no doubt about why they were here. To capture me and
return me to the company, if not kill me outright. That thought
gives me another spurt. I need to press on. I was so glad to be
back inside and out of danger of falling that I had as yet failed
to notice the burst water pipe overhead.

The water
that once gushed from it had long ago stopped of course and the
pipe had been
choked up with ice, but I’m
happy to guess what’s coming next. Lucy had drawn little wave
patterns on her map to indicate, what I assumed, was a flooded
section of the path. It looks like I’m heading right for
it.

There
’s a hall and a door to my
rear but the explosion that had caused the gaping hole I had just
climbed through had collapsed a section of the ceiling too and it
was blocked. The floor of the hall in which I stand is frozen and
slippery as a result. There’s another door dead ahead. It’s already
open and ajar. I need to head for that. Lucy must have forced it
over somehow.

As soon as I
squeeze through I notice the temperature spike. It’s dark but the
air is chokingly damp and humid. The frozen surface of the hall
previous changed almost immediately to slush and pools of stagnant
water along my path. I can hear, or I think so anyway, a feint
hissing noise.

I conclude by
what evidence I have that a steam pipe must have burst, probably
quite recently, and melted the frozen pools of ice. It seems odd to
me that a pipe, if I was even right, could have burst after so
long. But I guess the ship, as old as it was already, is still in
the process of dying. The systems, it’s life support, engines and
everything else I can’t recall right away must have been taking
their time in finally breaking. It was a robust design after all. I
feel an odd sense of admiration for it for having held out so
long.

My thoughts
turn
again to whoever else is here on
this ship with us. They might be dangerous. I guess they might be
the landing team that came here with Lucy. If I’m right then she
probably isn’t the one in danger. I am. But that doesn’t stop me
from worrying about her. She has lost her memory, at least I hope
that’s all it is, and they might try to get her back. The last
thing I want is for her to turn on me. I like her. I don’t think I
could take it if she did.

‘
You’re a
damn liar.’ I said
out loud by mistake.
Sometimes I do that. Narrate my own stupid thoughts. But the words
rung true. I was lying to myself.
Again.
I do like her. I haven’t
felt like this in a long time. I have feelings for her for sure but
I was lying to myself in saying they were my primary concern. I
just don’t want to do this on my own. I had already lost Kolt. I
don’t want her to go too.

I wade on
regardless through the stagnant water at my feet. My boots must
have been cracked somewhere because after only a few moments water
started to gush in. It was ok though. It was warm and it felt good
washing around my toes. I want to stop, take off my boots, apron
and armor and wash the warm water all over my sweating and blood
caked body.

But I
d
on’t have the time at all. The odd
slither of light broke through the darkness and cast swords of pale
light all across the water below. The hull was cracked and littered
with tiny bullet holes all over the place. I can even see the odd
shell casing in the pools below my feet. I kick one aside and watch
it roll about in the current caused by my own footsteps.

There it was
again. The old world meeting the new. Projectile bullet casings
onboard a space ship.
I guess this side
of the ship must have taken a big hit in whatever fight that had
downed it.

A breeze
washed through the clean air but it
’s
pleasant enough. I can finally, after what felt like a good few
hours, see the path ahead. The lenses on my gas mask start to mist
up again. It reminded me that I even had it on. Even though I hated
it and it made my lungs hurt. I had become accustomed to it and far
too used to it. My hands are steadier now so I reach around to the
clasp at the back of my skull and unfasten it.

I let the
mask fall into the water, which
is
becoming deeper as I move onwards, and relax to breathe a
moment.

It
fe
els like I had been carrying a heavy
bag around for ages and now that it was gone I suddenly feel much
lighter on my feet. It’s like that feeling but it’s deep in my
lungs. It takes less effort from my diaphragm to pull in soothing
yet cold air.
At least the
damn thing came off!
I think to myself,
speaking of Kolt of course.

I
sh
ake my head from side to side, bravely
ignoring the pain it causes me to do it, and stoop down to cup some
water from the pools on the floor. It smells okay, looks clean too,
and I’m far too thirsty to care if it will make me ill or not. I
start sipping it at first, then gulping, to the point where I’m
leaning right down and just drinking from the pool like an animal.
It washes through my insides and tastes almost a little sweet. It
hurts to swallow it at first, but given I have not eaten or drank
for a long time, I persevere and ignore the mild pain it causes
me.

Just a sore
throat
is all. As soon as I have my fill,
I lay on my back and let the warm water wash through my matted and
sticky hair. It feels good to get the stained blood out and feel a
little cleaner. I’m used to being dirty and have been for a long
time. I was a miner after all.

But if
fe
els nice every now and again to feel
even a little human. I sigh loudly and audibly.

No rest for
me though. I still c
an’t relax. Not until
I see her again. I reluctantly roll over and examine the path
ahead. My eyes have become even more so used to the feint and vague
ambient light in the bullet ridden hall. I can see the hall
culminated at a set of stairs. Ones that led down into a newly
flooded area.
I guess there
had to be something
.

‘
Just can’t
catch a break…’ I sa
y under my breath.
That desire to be a new man takes over once again and I try not to
complain. I try to think of it more as a challenge. I’m on a
journey of discovery here. Every bit as much as I’m on a journey of
self rescue. I need to find out who I was. Or decide who I was.
Whichever it was to be.

I reluctantly
roll over and
take one final gulp of
deeply satisfying and clean water before standing up again. The
water trickles down the back of my armor sending a shiver down my
spine. But it relaxes my again cramping muscles and stops the onset
of any more pain. For now at least.

I wade over
to the stairwell and start psyching up for what could be a very
dangerous swim. I
can’t for the life of
me think about which way to go by my fading mental image of the map
Lucy had drawn for me.