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STORY
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I have prepared myself for the coming chapters. In order to write this, I have isolated myself here, in this building, until I finish them. The doctors will have to wait. Everyone will have to wait. If this is to be done, this is how it must be done.
I do not want to have to revisit these memories ever again.
Am I ready to retrial this journey? I know that from this moment in, it is one without windows. The light will be frail. Every tunnel will lead away from the surface. The doors will close behind me.
My only chance is to find where I left myself, somewhere in the depths.
Upon Tony's inspection of the location, it was found to be a secure transit lift; A roofless elevator only open to one floor at a time. He had some trouble finding it, as the door to the lift appeared to be a wall. A search later, his eye spotted an old, metal case imbedded into the ground. Flipping it open, he found an emergency control panel for the door and the lift. It seemed it had never been used, even before the station was overrun.
Samsa summoned me from the Youkja, and walked me to the mess hall. There, a few others and I finished off one of the many beef carcasses from cold storage. Geoff was nice enough to cook it up for us. Others had their fill, but remained for something yet to come.
Geoff, Tony, Sodapop and Johnson all sat at my table. Smiling Joe sat at the other, looking through his plate. Ashura was sitting against the wall. I wondered if he'd moved at all.
Samsa, in the mean time, sat on the rez node in the corner of the room, reviewing the information from my disk. Everyone knew from the scowl of thought on Samsa's face that a plan was formulating. Everyone knew, but no one said a word. There was only the separated cluttering of silverware, and the vigorous munching of the resource node. I remember it had a comforting sound, something like an old washing machine.
He waited until the last man had finished.
Mr. Samsa: "Alright, men. Briefing first or volunteering first?"
Geoff: "Volunteering."
Johnson: "Holy shit, don't you even want to know what you're getting into before 'volunteering?'"
Geoff: "No, not really."
Johnson: "Why not?"
Geoff: "Because Samsa is asking for volunteers."
Johnson: "...What?"
Tony: "Look, Shorty. Mr. Samsa is asking for volunteers. If he briefed us first, there wouldn't be any."
Johnson: "Oh... Uh, I think in that case I'll decline."
Tony: "Yeah, no shit you will. God... pussy."
Smiling Joe: "How many do you need, boss?"
Mr. Samsa: "Three, at the most. Two at least."
Geoff: "I'll go."
Tony: "Geoff, you don't even know what he wants us to do yet."
Geoff: "Yeah?"
Tony: "...I'll go too."
Smiling Joe: "I'll go."
Samsa scuffed a bit. Joe was sitting back at his table, picking his teeth with his combat knife.
Mr. Samsa: "No, Joe. I want you here."
Smiling Joe: "Sure thing, boss."
Samsa looked over at Sodapop. After a moment, Sodapop returned his glance with a single nod.
Mr. Samsa: "Alright."
The mission was explained. Take the lift to the next level. Main objective: Find the Command Chair and drop a new one on the lower level. Secondary objective: Partially deactivate the lockdown mechanism to allow the Youkja to be utilized as a command console.
In case both objectives failed, there was a final objective: rendezvous at the lift for a final assault on the Hive. With one, the Kharaa could only mutate into Lerks and Gorges. With such odds, we might still stand a chance at a single-wave rush, be it a small one. This was basically a suicide plan; it was the last resort.
For a moment, I thought I saw Darkens resting against the rez node. I squinted at him.
His leg was still missing, and his helmet was by his side. Something was different. His eyes were different.
I flinched awake. The briefing was over. The room was empty, except for Mr. Samsa. He sat across from me, and was looking at me.
How long had he been waiting? His expression...
There was a problem.
Mr. Samsa: "We have a problem."
Fuck.
"What is it?"
Samsa’s grimace seemed almost inhuman. Behind him, in the unconscious realm of my mind, was forced the slightest hint of a gate looming before me, engraved in Ancient Italian.
Through me is the way into the suffering city,
Mr. Samsa: "I sent up the volunteers, and they found where the C.C. should be."
"What was wrong?"
Mr. Samsa: "Well, it wasn't there."
Through me is the way to eternal pain,
"What about the secondary objective?"
Mr. Samsa: "Well, that's where the problem arises, Jack. I didn't want to do this, and I decided against it at the last minute... originally, but-"
"-But what?"
Through me,
Mr. Samsa: "Jack, you're not obligated to do this, and I'll understand if you... have strong objections."
"You don't want to send me up... up there, do you?"
Mr. Samsa: "Jack..."
...My creator
Mr. Samsa: "...I was originally going to send you with them."
"What?"
Mr. Samsa: "Just hear me out, Jack."
"What the hell could I do? I'm just... a fucking writer, ju-journali-"
Mr. Samsa: "Jack! Shut up and listen."
...Before me, nothing but eternal things were made,
Mr. Samsa: "You are the only person who can talk to the Youkja, and part of the lockdown shutdown procedures involve a partial interface with the Youkja system."
"What? I'm- I'm not the only person that can talk to her. It's not that hard! I'm sure I can walk them through it from down here."
Mr. Samsa: "There's more to it than that, Jack. Part of the lockdown procedure is to only allow one person to access the Youkja at all. Since you were the first, you've become the recognized person for that position."
And I...
"And... I'm the only person who can do this?"
Mr. Samsa: "Yes."
...endure...
"So I have to go... I have to go up there? I mean, I... have to go up there."
Mr. Samsa: "Yes."
...Eternally.
"But I... have to choose to go up there."
Mr. Samsa: "Legally? Yes, you would get to choose."
"Oh shit."
Mr. Samsa: "Jack, Geoff and his crew will be standing by at the top of the lift. You'll have three personal bodyguards to escort you, while you're up there."
"But it... will be through enemy territory?"
Mr. Samsa: "Yes..."
And I endure
Mr. Samsa: "Will you go?"
My spine would not bend, my lungs would not draw. Somehow, I knew if I declined, Mr. Samsa would force me. He was a good-natured man, but he knew when priorities overrode good nature.
"...Is this the only way, Samsa?"
Mr. Samsa: "Yes, Jack."
"...Then I'll go."
Abandon all hope,
Damn it.
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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.