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STORY
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Fajid Roha released more from Six Days in Sanjii this morning. The piece has been complete for some time, but I haven't been able to get a copy of the entire documentation. I assume it will be fairly good. After all, it beat me out for last year's neo-politzer. Then again, if The Frontier had been released by the deadline, things might have turned out differently.
Let me read back... It's been several months since I've touched this writing, and for a good reason:
I haven't remembered what happens next.
Recalling the death of Darken's was an odd experience. It came to me in a dream one night, ever clearer than when it actually occurred. I awoke in a numb state of being. After a moment of reflection, I realized I had to get it all down before I forgot.
So, I did.
I haven't had any relapses since then. I've been droning on that memory, if anything, unable to see anything past it.
Then, one fabulous morning, the sun rolled in through my window, melting the ice caked upon the glass. I'd fallen asleep on the floor. Around my feet were boxes upon boxes of material sent by the TSA and a couple of anomalous sources. Inside them, and also around them, were figures, recordings, personal journals, and so forth, from the incident. Someone, somewhere, thought they might inspire me. So far, they've only served to remind me why I don't want to recall anything.
My hand found one of the many items. It was a little collection pad, containing the logs from Mr. Samsa's mission diary. I scrolled through it, looking for anything that might spark my memory.
Good news: We've isolated and contained the Kharaa on the upper deck of the vessel.
Bad news: No command chair, no access to the ship's nano-grid, no infantry portals, no backup, and no exit.
I need some coffee.
What a headache life can be sometimes.
Detailing history, Tony went back to Atmospheric and finished Matt's work. With all the passages to the upper deck closed off, we can take some time to reevaluate this situation.
I've officially pulled rank from Ashura. I've noted it in my official report.
We met back up at the mess hall. I had to drag Ashura along, so we were the last to arrive. He had a fine reception, ending with Johnson's fist crashing into Ashura's temple. See, Johnson had been right around the corner of our base during the attack, and if Ashura had so much as yelped, our base would still be intact. After a short while of listening to Ashura whine and defend himself like a 10 year old child caught in the act, Johnson lost his temper. I let him vent for a few seconds before ordering him to stop. Johnson backed off immediately. As far as I know, Ashura is still sitting there, trying not to cry.
I have not noted this in my official report.
I sent Jack to talk to the Youkja some more. Maybe the two of them can come up with something. I'd be satisfied with getting the food reps back online. I haven't had my coffee yet.
Joe and I have been scanning over the map. The upper deck seems to be mostly one big research station. oddly, a great deal of it is devoted to specimen containment, which is all we could discern as the sector was tagged “off limits.” This is all very interesting, but as it is, completely useless. We have no way to get up there and no reason to go. Without a comm chair or infantry portals, we can basically call off any offensive moves. Maybe if we find something useful up there, like a back up chair, I'd risk sending a squad to investigate.
Hell... Seph, Darkens, Matt, Anthony, Quiver, and Altezo. Except for Tony, team two is all dead.
Nothing I can say. Seph was an odd one. He'd only crack a joke if he were drunk or in battle. He wasn't that well educated, but out here what does that matter.
Darkens was alright. Him and Joe were really close. Joe usually takes stuff pretty well, so I'm not worried. Only way you can ever tell something's wrong with him is that he'll be quiet for a couple hours. We all have our ways of paying our respects.
I don't think I've ever known any Frontiersmen as long as I've known this bunch. I wouldn't go so far as to say "god bless," but may God show them mercy, and help get us out of here alive. Also, a cup of coffee wouldn't hurt.
Sat down with Joe. I asked him what was on his mind. He didn't flinch, but he did talk to me.
There was a Frontiersmen Joe once knew who had a twin brother. They both held the same rank, but never were able to work together in the field.
Finally, after months of requesting, they were on their first mission together. The infestation was on a sea-to-surface research station; somewhere they suspected microscopic life development.
It was a good set down. They dug in, captured most of the resource nodes, and locked down two of the hives. Things were looking good, until a pair of skulks surgically dismantled their main base. The commander relocated to one of the hives, before his comm chair crumbled under him and he was torn apart.
These two skulks then began killing all of the expanded resource nodes, one after the other. The twin marines went out after them, as the rest of the Frontiersmen regrouped to rush their final hive.
The two brothers showed up at the ocean dock, which was something like a large swimming pool with a few shuttles in the water. The two skulks were up on a platform, munching on the resource node.
The battle ensued. One of the brothers shot one of the skulks off into the water. It was killed, and sank slowly into the ocean. The other skulk quickly scampered off.
In the mean time, the final hive was destroyed, and the countdown ensued. Figuring it would die off by itself, the two brothers headed back for the relocated base.
It was at this point when the skulk re-emerged from where it had run, charging at the frontiersmen in the back who had shot down his partner.
I find this hard to believe myself, but apparently the skulk did not attack him, but rather knocked him to the ground, and ran past him. It then lunged at the other twin's throat, knocking him back and causing him to tumble, bleeding, into the ocean water.
So, he dove after his brother, but the skulk dove in after him. It kept him from his brother, and eventually dragged him back to shore.
Having taken stab wounds in his side, the brother ended up on the grating by the dock, with a dying skulk resting on top of him, looking him in the eye. It did not kill him, but rather let him live, in the knowledge that the skulk had taken its revenge.
It parasited the Frontiersman's skull, and then died on his chest. With his brother lost to the ocean, the marine lay there until he was found by his squad.
I asked Joe who this soldier was. He said it was Darkens.
It doesn't come as a shock to me anymore. By now, all of us have accepted the Kharaa as formidable foes. We treat them as if we were fighting ourselves.
Sometimes, I think we are.
Couple of the guys found some grills in the cafeteria. I caught Geoff hauling meat over to the cookers from the Cold Storage. I was about to stop him, but Johnson interrupted me.
“Samsa, me and Geoff came up with this awesome thing. You know how people take laxatives when they need to shit and shit? Well, he was thinking, what if you don’t want to shit? So, we came up with something. Guess what it’s called?”
“What?” I replied.
“Constipal.” He broke into an airy laugh as I proceeded by him.
“Private, where do you think you’re taking that?”
“Sir, to the Barby, sir.”
“I think that's known as stealing, Geoff.”
"I'd prefer to think of it as not letting a good thing go to waste. Sir.”
It should be ready in an hour.
The Classy’s register was a guise, most likely because of illegal activity. Some detective work found this vessel to be registered under Exotic Material Shipment (A.K.A. Expensive foods and stuff.) This level, especially the meat in the Cold Storage, would account for that. I also discovered that according to registered schematics, this level was the only level onboard the ship. The upper level, as far as legal documents go, doesn’t exist. Needless to say, neither do the testing labs or specimen containment chambers.
This would account for why our mission briefing was so vague, but I am still troubled. Did they truly not inform us because they did not know?
Though I’m not certified to investigate this matter further, I feel this story will unravel as time proceeds.
I'm going to see if Jack's found anything.
Plans are in motion. Geoff, Tony, and Jack are our miracle men.
Remember for Jack:
- The half-life of the soul would be about point 464, assuming it no longer functions below 1 percent.
With only the slightest breath of direction, I was guided back to an old piece of literature. I found it where I left it, wedged among such ancients as 1984, Brave New World, The Giver and Brazil. A small, scrap sheet of paper, where an old friend had written his final epitaph with an unsteady, overdosed hand:
I remembered.
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Disclaimer
Monster is © Edan Koch. The Universe in which it takes place is based upon Natural-Selection. All characters and locations are fictional. Any association with actual persons or places is coincidental.
Natural-Selection and all artwork, screenshots, text and code associated with it are © Charles G. Cleveland, 2001.