The Agathon: Book One (29 page)

“Not yet. I’d like to have a word with Llewellyn when the doctor’s finished with her, if you don’t mind. I’ll join you shortly,” he said, still fixated on the young crewman.

“It’s your ship,” Chavel said, trying to lighten the mood. Young gave a polite nod and walked away from them. Carrie was beginning to feel a real sense of relief that Chavel hadn’t been killed.

23

Medical Bay

09:34 Martian Standard

“H
ow
are you, Amanda?” said Young. Llewellyn was sitting on a bio bed with Brubaker behind her, running a medical scanner along her back.

“I’m fine, thank you.” The first time he had met her she had been in awe of him. He had grown used to some of the reactions the colonists and passengers had been giving him since he came on board. As CEO of Jycorp he had enjoyed the trappings of rumour and mysticism. He had not been seen in public in many years on Earth and had almost become a myth. He was surprised at how many feared him. He knew it was because of his father and had not sought to change it. It was easier to fit into that perception than any other and it afforded him the privacy to pursue his own interests. Llewellyn seemed to be one of these people. They had spoken briefly on the bridge and had a few awkward
run
-ins in the ship’s corridors, but he knew a look of fear when he saw one and each time they had spoken he had seen a tremble in her fingers. Not now, however. Now she gazed into his eyes with the nonchalance of an emperor watching over her subjects. Her hands were steady as a rock. Brubaker continued her scans in the background as Young continued.

“Amanda, can you tell me where you’ve been for the past day? We thought you were dead,” he said, trying to sound as friendly as he could. She looked him blankly in the eyes. Young had seen the
hundred
-mile stare before on soldiers and wondered if it was just a case of PTSD.

“I was lost,” she said. Young shifted in his stool, clearing a stiff pain in his lower back.

“You were taken, Amanda,” he said. “Don’t you remember? By the snake thing that came out of the lake?”

“Snake thing,” she repeated.

“Yes, the snake thing,” said Young. “The big black mechanical snake thing that grabbed you and pulled you into the woods. Where have you been and why aren’t you injured?” He hadn’t meant to inject force in his voice, but it had been unavoidable. Brubaker looked at him and frowned. He understood and raised his hand apologetically. Llewellyn didn’t answer.

“I was lost,” she repeated.

“Mr Young, she has been through a trauma and needs time to process what happened to her. I have to insist that you leave her be for now, until I can do a full work up on her.” Young looked at Brubaker and nodded reluctantly.

“Okay. Amanda, we’ll talk later,” he said, tapping her knee. He gestured to Brubaker for a side discussion. They left the bio bed and stood in the doorway to her office.

“Well?” he said to her. Brubaker sighed.

“Physically she’s in perfect condition. Which in itself is odd. There’s no bruising or cuts associated with even a minor skirmish. She’s clearly having some sort of psychological trauma from what it was that’s had her for the last day, but aside from that she’s in perfect health. Mr Young, we need to get the captain back.” Young looked at her and envied the loyalty that Barrington had earned from his colonists.

“Doctor, I know that, which is why we need to break through to Llewellyn. She knows what these things are. She’s seen them and my guess is that wherever they took her is where the captain is being held. Isn’t there something you can give her to make her talk?”

Brubaker looked surprised. “I am not a member of the secret police, Mr Young. I don’t carry interrogation pharmacology.” Young sighed. He should have made more of an effort with the colonists back on Mars and Phobos. “Unless she shows me some sort of overt or dangerous behaviour, I’ll be clearing her for duty.” Young looked surprised at that.

“Don’t do that just yet,” he said.

“Why not?” Brubaker pushed.

“I want Carrie Barrington to talk with her,” he said, looking at Llewellyn. Brubaker looked at Young and frowned again. He wished he could have some of that fear from Brubaker, but she was one of the colonists that couldn’t have cared less who he or his father was. She respected his technical achievements in the sciences, but he knew she thought he was just a spoilt rich kid playing on a name. He hadn’t the time to dissuade her otherwise right now, so he dropped his cloak.

“Look, Michelle, we both know why I’m asking. The captain is missing and we’re on a planet that seems to have hostile life forms on it. Who knows when they’ll attack again? We’re a thousand years apart from what I can now only assume are two space stations carrying a few thousand human corpses through empty space and we have no idea where the hell we are.” He knew that his voice was beginning to harden and echoes of his father’s authority were spilling out of him unannounced.

11:45 Martian Standard

John Barrington’s eyes flickered open. He tried to move his head but he couldn’t. The piercing light that shone in his eyes prevented him from seeing more than a few inches in front of his body. He wasn’t lying down. Of that he was certain. The weight of his lower body told him he was held upright, but his feet were definitely not on the ground. His throat felt dry and his eyes burned. He coughed once, clearing something that was lodged in his mouth. The sound of his voice echoed enough to tell him he was in a chamber or cave. Around him he could hear the definite whir of machinery as it clicked and moved in deliberate sequences. His head hurt. He tried to reach up and touch it, to see if it had been cut or wounded in any way, but he was unable to move his arms. He tried to look down at his body, but couldn’t move his head. He could feel his limbs so he knew that they were still there, but he was confined, trapped by something. He tried to move his fingertips and toes but couldn’t. Every inch of his body was sealed tightly up in whatever had captured him. He ignored his racing heart and suppressed the adrenalin surge that was clouding his judgment so that he could focus on remaining present. He toyed with the idea of remaining silent to gather as much information as he could before whatever had taken him killed him, but it didn’t last more than a second or two.

“Hello?” he finally mustered, to test out whether he was alone or not. His voice bounced off what sounded like metallic walls and reverberated in the darkness too coldly for comfort. The bright light blinding his vision went dark, leaving a hovering light spot. The source of the light withdrew somewhere off to the right. He closed his eyes to try and adapt quickly. He opened them and had to catch a breath, because of who was looking straight into his eyes. There, encased in some sort of clear, skin tight moulding was Amanda Llewellyn. Or what was left of her. Her glassy, lifeless eyes glared at him from the disembodied head that sat a foot above the rest of her torso. Each limb was neatly separated from the next and floating in perfect symmetry to each other, in what looked like some sort of plastic or polymer encasing.

“Jesus,” he whispered to himself. He tried to fight his flight response to get his heartrate under control. She seemed to be on display. Mounted on a black smooth wall with thousands of fibrous cables spreading out in all directions. The sound of something small crawling towards him to his left made him draw his eyes to look. It seemed to be the only part of his body he was still able to move.

Crawling up the wall towards what was Llewellyn was something akin to a millipede back on Earth. He was sure Carrie would have some sort of classification of arthropod, but millipede worked well. It curved gracefully across the wall and over the various encased limbs of the former crewman. It reached her head where it stopped and extended a single feeler, which pierced her left temple. The severed head seemed to come to life. The eyes flickered and the mouth started making shapes, as if she were mouthing along to a song being sung that only she could hear. The creature stopped what it was doing and withdrew its feeler from her temple. The head stopped moving and eyes went still. It scuttled off out of sight to Barrington’s left. The sound of his heart beating was hard to ignore and even harder to fight off, but he pushed his field of vision as much as could to try and see anything else.

It was dark. He thought he could hear water in the distance but could not be sure. Dull thuds came and went and more scuttling of small creatures tickled his senses all around him. There was something else there with him. Unseen. A large booming underwater sound like a
far
-off whale. He had heard it several times.
Power generator
, he thought to himself. He shook off the suddenly horrifying thought that he too had been disassembled and was being kept alive through a series of alien cables, just like poor Llewellyn hanging opposite him. He strained his eyes downwards to try and confirm that he was still in one piece.
Not that it matters
, he thought. By the looks of things he would be dead soon. He hoped that Boyett had taken the ship off this planet by now and wasn’t attempting some foolhardy rescue attempt.

He hoped Carrie wouldn’t miss him too much. He presumed whatever had taken him was somehow blocking Carrie’s ability to communicate with him. He was saddened that he wouldn’t see her again. Then a larger fear took over. The thing currently masquerading as Amanda Llewellyn was on board his ship. He had to warn them. Before it destroyed them all. It was at that moment that he decided in no uncertain terms to do everything that he could to survive. Something touched his hand, which was freely moving from underneath one of the restraints. He tried to move his head to see what it was but couldn’t. It felt like a small insect crawling over the palm of his hand. It began to move up his arm. Looking across as the dismembered corpse of Llewellyn filled him with the quick thought that this was how it had begun for her. Whatever
multi
-legged thing was crawling up his arm had now reached his shoulder. He quieted his mind and prepared for death as best he could.

The unseen creature made its way up his neck. The cold feeling of metal on his skin was almost ticklish. It made its way on his cheek and up and over his eye. He couldn’t see what it was but it seemed to stop over his right eye. There it stayed for several minutes. Just sitting there. A silent terror began to fill his lower body. The pain of white hot heat against his eye ball replaced it. He began to scream uncontrollably, as he felt as though a part of his face were being melted away.

The Agathon Bridge

12:33 Martian Standard

“He’s not dead,” Carrie told Boyett, who was sitting in the captain’s centre seat. Her father’s centre seat.

“I believe you, Carrie,” said Boyett. She was a little surprised by her reaction. She was about to make a counter comment when a sudden flash of pain bolted through her right eye. She had never felt anything like it. Her knees weakened as the sound of her father’s screams echoed throughout her mind. She grabbed her head for fear that it would explode with the intensity of it. Seconds later it was over. She took a deep breath as the muscle memory of the experience settled. Chavel’s hands on her shoulders brought her back to the moment.

“Are you all right?” he asked softly. She cleared a tear from the side of her cheek and nodded. Something terrible had just happened to her father. She stood up and gave Chavel a nod of thanks.

“Yes, thank you.” Chavel looked seriously at her. Boyett looked at Chavel.


“Well?” she said. He looked confused and looked at Carrie.

“Well what?” he asked.

“Well? Do you think you can actually come back without bleeding this time?” she said, smiling. He gave her a
non
-responsive huff.

“The captain, Charly,” he pressed. Boyett took a deep breath and took the moment to assert some authority on the situation.

“Yes, Lieutenant, I am aware that the captain was taken and have been scanning the area intently for the last several hours,” she said, putting just enough emphasis in her tone to dissuade Chavel from thinking that she was not currently in charge.

“Sorry, sir, no insubordination was intended. Llewellyn was taken on my watch and so was the captain,” he said looking at the ground angrily. Boyett took a deep breath.

“You were unconscious and nearly dead. I think he understood. Now, if you’re done with all this
self
-pity nonsense, I need both of your help in getting him back,” she said.

“Where the hell is Doctor Tyrell? I need him to find a way to boost the targeting sensors. I called him a half an hour ago,” she said to Carrie.

“He’s probably in his lab. The communications have been down in there since the fire,” Carrie said.

“Can you get him up here?” Boyett asked. Carrie hesitated.

“Is there someone else you can send? I think I could be of more assistance here for the time being,” she said, hoping Boyett would leave it at that.

“Carrie, you worked closely with him for a long time. I need you to relay our needs to him directly and assist him.” She put a hand on Carrie’s shoulder. “I know he’s a little intense, but we need his expertise if we’re to mount a successful rescue,” she said. Carrie fought the urge to shout out THAT’S NOT TYRELL at the top of her lungs, but she didn’t need anyone calling her crazy right now. She bit her tongue and nodded, moving towards the lift at the back of the bridge.

“Carrie,” said Chavel. She turned and faced him.

“We’ll get him back,” he said with a determined glare. She smiled at him as he turned back to Boyett and began running over the details of the plan. As Carrie stepped into the lift, she took a deep breath. She wondered about arming herself, but figured that she was more dangerous without a pulse gun than with one, if push came to shove.

24

T
yrell’s lab

16:54 Martian Standard

T
he door to Tyrell’s lab opened and Carrie looked inside. The eyes that glared at her from the centre of the room made her jump and muffle a scream. He was sitting in the centre of the lab on a small stool, staring straight at the door. Straight at her. He cocked his head to the side and smiled.

“Come in, Carrie. Don’t be frightened. I have been waiting for you,” he said. The lab had not been touched since she was last there with her father. There was still equipment strewn all over the place and broken and charred pieces of metal scattered around the work surfaces. It was as if he had simply gotten to the lab hours earlier and sat on the stool to wait for her arrival.

“Doctor
Tyrell
—” she started saying before he interrupted her.

“Yes, I know,” he said. “Your father has been taken by the planet and you plan on going after him. I know this, please come in,” he said again. Carrie opened up her mind to try and get some sort of sense of how to handle this situation, but again got nothing back from the person staring calmly at her from the centre of Tyrell’s lab. She was tired of not knowing and too angry at her father’s abduction to care anymore. It was time for answers and this person knew something she didn’t, so she stepped into the lab, allowing the doors to close behind her.

“Lock,” said Tyrell. The door obeyed and a red light flickered on the control panel to indicate the locking mechanism of the door had been activated. Carrie turned and looked at the blinking light, then turned back to the doctor. She began to feel a small tingling sensation in her lower back. Doctor Tyrell, or whatever it was, stood from his small stool and regarded her.

“You have to help me,” he finally said. Carrie was confused at first by his odd request. “Do you understand, Carrie Barrington?” he said. His demeanour was calm. Unthreatening. His expression was neutral and his muscles seemed relaxed. He sounded like someone who had just received a terminal diagnosis and was now bargaining with his doctor. She still sensed nothing from him. Not like Llewellyn. There was a definite presence here. One familiar to her.

“Doctor, why have you locked the door?” she said, trying to stop herself from spontaneously electrocuting the both of them through some involuntary reflex.

“You are different,” he said, tilting his head. “We have known you are different for quite some time. We have tried to communicate, but you are an infant. You still do not know what you are, do you?” he said.

“What?” she replied.

“Do you know us?” he said.

“Of course I know you,” she replied. “You are Doctor Tyron Tyrell,” she said, not believing a word of it.

“You are lying,” he replied. “You know US,” he said, raising his voice and widening his eyes, which suddenly turned completely black as they filled with up with what looked like black ink. Carrie took a step back and opened her hands defensively.

She suddenly felt an overwhelming sense of another consciousness coming from Tyrell. She started to back towards the door. She felt the dark force from her dreams standing before her. He stood still, looking at her calmly. There was no doubt about it. It was The Black. And it was somehow inside Tyrell. She wondered why she had not yet struck out at him and made for the door. She knew the code which could manually override the door locks in an emergency situation, but she still felt no aggressive movement from Tyrell so she held her ground. They stood apart as Carrie tried to figure out what to do next. She decided to wait for him to make a move on her. He didn’t. He stood quietly. Eyes black, looking at her. She tried to open up her mind to connect with his, but she was being blocked.

“Is Doctor Tyrell still alive?” she finally asked without realising it. He tilted his head.

“He is no longer here,” he said.

“What are you?” she said.

“What am I?” he replied, “What am I?” he said again. “What...am...I?” he repeated, seemingly not understanding her question.

“Are you a life form?” she said, trying to simplify it.

“I am what was. What is,” he said after a moment.

“You don’t make any sense,” she said.

“You have to leave this world,” said Tyrell blandly.

“What are you?” Carrie asked again, gritting her teeth. Her recurring dream resurfaced and thoughts of her mother screaming began to creep through the cracks in her thoughts as anger surfaced.

“You killed my mother,” she said quietly, but with enough depth in her throat to make Tyrell frown. He looked at the floor of the lab, as if trying to recall what it was she was talking about.

“The cave,” he replied, meeting her angry gaze.

“Yes, the cave,” she said. “You killed her and her team and many others.”

Tyrell’s expression remained passive. “There must be a molecular compatibility to bond,” he finally said.

“This pink was the first to facilitate us.”

“Us?” Carrie said. “You mean you! The rest of The Black... of whatever you are, was sealed in the cave on the Martian surface. It has been long destroyed. You are the last,” she said.

“The last?” Tyrell replied.

“Yes, the last. No more. You are alone here.” She regarded his puzzled look for a moment, as a sudden surge of anger filled her heart.

“She deserved better. I should destroy you,” she said. With a single motion she lost control and reached out a hand towards Tyrell. A single bolt of bright blue energy struck out of her fingertips towards him. Tyrell did not move. Within a fraction of a second what looked like a solid cocoon of the black surrounded his whole body. Carrie felt like she was being pulled towards him, as if he was feeding on it. Her energy levels began to drain and she began to feel tired. Almost exhausted, she collapsed on the floor. The solid black cocoon that surrounded Tyrell withdrew into his body through what looked like every pore in his skin. Carrie felt like a small insect trying to move a mountain. The
high
-powered exchange lasted only a few seconds, but it left the air in the lab feeling charged. Small hairs on Carrie’s arms began to stand on end and there was a smell of singed flesh in the air, though she could find no injuries on either herself or Tyrell.

“We do not mean to harm you,” Tyrell finally said. “Extinguishing the pinks.” He paused for a moment. “Your mother, was not intended. Communication was attempted but your species could not comprehend it and cellular linking was the only way. Your tissues proved to be incompatible with our harmonic resonances and atomic cascading resulted in the loss of all subjects,” he said.

“What makes Tyrell different?” she said, out of breath.

“Close quartered observation of this one led to the discovery of the correct cellular resonance frequency. When the Targlagdu took this vessel, it was decided to merge with him. You must not stay with the Targlagdu. You must leave. We must find the others,” he said. She definitely began to hear his voice strengthen.

“What others? What is the Targlagdu?” said Carrie.

“The others must be found. To save us all. By your understanding this place is very old. It has travelled almost as far as the great expansion. Built by the great ones now long extinguished. It feeds on all things. It will feed on you all.”

“This planet is a machine? Like this ship?” Carrie asked. Tyrell looked at her as if trying to find the right words to describe it. He shook his head.

“I am not leaving without my father,” Carrie said.

“You must leave the Targlagdu now,” Tyrell countered. Carrie thought about the one question she had not asked him yet.

“Where are the signal makers?” she said. That seemed to pique Tyrell’s interest.

“The others must be found,” he repeated.

“We cannot leave without my father,” she said.

“The Targlagdu is on board this vessel,” Tyrell said. “It will destroy you.” Carrie thought about what he was saying.

“Llewellyn?” she said. Tyrell nodded.

“You must warn the others,” he said. Carrie immediately walked to the comm panel by the door to the lab.

“Your father,” Tyrell said. Carrie stopped and looked back at him. “We can help you find him,” he said. “The others will not survive. We must leave now.”

Bridge

17:27 Martian Standard

“I have an airlock opening on deck
twenty
-four,” said Kevin Ferrate towards the rear of the bridge. Boyett was in the middle of a briefing with Emerson on the comms when she was interrupted.

“Hold on, Landon,” she said.

“Who is it?” she asked him. A view screen flickered on at the head of the bridge, as an image of two people walking down the airlock ramp brought Boyett to her feet.

“That’s Carrie and Doctor Tyrell,” said Chavel, eyes fixed on the screen.

“What the hell are they doing?” she said.

“Incoming transmission,” said Ferrate.

“Let’s hear it,” said Boyett, not liking the intuition in her stomach.

“Carrie Barrington to Agathon Bridge,” said Carrie’s voice. Boyett could feel Chavel’s eyes burning a hole in the side of her face, but ignored them and stared at the screen. The two figures were making their way across the plain towards the forest.

“Boyett here. Carrie, what are you doing? I didn’t give permission to leave the ship,” she said.

“Lieutenant, you need to contain Amanda Llewellyn as soon as possible. We believe that what came out of the forest is not a member of our crew. Too much to explain. You have to trust me. Do not let her move freely around the ship. Consider her dangerous. You will have to use lethal force.”

Boyett considered it for a moment. “Carrie, what’s going on? You and Tyrell get back to the ship. We’re about to mount a rescue attempt,” she said.

“No need, Charly. Stay on the ship. Myself and Doctor Tyrell are going after my father.”

“The hell you are!” said Chavel, drowning out the sounds of the bridge noises with the level of his voice. Boyett shot him an angry glare and waved him off.

“Carrie, listen to me very carefully,” she said. “Turn around right now and get back to the ship. You have no idea what you’re dealing with out there. This is insane,” she said.

“Lieutenant Boyett, you must listen to Ms Barrington,” came Tyrell’s voice over the transmission. “Contain crewman Llewellyn or she will destroy the ship. You have no time,” he said.

“Doctor Tyrell, I cannot allow you and Carrie to go into those woods alone,” said Boyett. “I am ordering you back to the ship.” She looked at Chavel.

“Bring them back,” she said quietly to Chavel. He nodded and made his way to the lift.

“I have overridden all the airlock controls with a fractal inscription key, David. You are not bringing us back to the ship until we have returned with my father,” said Carrie all of a sudden.

Chavel looked towards Ferrate. He nodded in confirmation. “Controls of all airlocks have been frozen out at source,” he said.

“Carrie, if you don’t get back here I’ll blow a hole in the hull to get out of here and drag you both back,” he said. His voice was showing anger. He looked at Boyett, who recognised it.

“Let me help you,” he continued, gaining control back.

“Trust me, I know what I’m doing,” she said softly. “Find Llewellyn, or all of this will be for nothing,” she said.

“Carrie Barrington out.” The comms went dead. Boyett looked at the view screen as Tyrell and Carrie made their way towards the forest edge.

“You’re not seriously just going to let them go?” said Chavel to Boyett. She looked at the comm channel she still had open to Emerson.

“Landon, you still there?” she said.

“Eh... Yes still here,” he said quietly.

“Secure the engine room. No unauthorised personnel. If you see Amanda Llewellyn, do not approach her,” she said.

“Well, that’s not going to be easy, Charly. She just walked in,” he said quietly, as if cupping his voice over a receiver. “What is it you would like me to do exactly?”

Boyett took a breath. “Stay put,” she said, “Chavel is on his way down.” She nodded to the lieutenant and tapped her side to indicate that he should arm himself. He gave a quick nod and headed towards the lift. She turned her attention back to the comms.

“Stay calm, Emerson. Lock the FTL systems down and drain any coolant from the plasma injectors. Say you’re running diagnostics. I don’t know what we’re dealing with here, but stay sharp. Anything unusual, report to me instantly.”

“Right,” came his response. His sarcastic Irish brogue suggested that he thought she was crazy, but she knew and trusted that he would carry out her orders.

“Ferrate, patch me through to the video feeds of the engine room,” she said. Seconds later her request was carried out.

“Boyett to medical bay,” she said, tapping the comms.

“Brubaker here,” came the quick answer.

“Doctor, anything unusual about your medical scans of Amanda Llewellyn?” she asked.

“Nothing,” came her response. “She checked out okay. She seemed a little unresponsive, but I put that down to shock. I have cleared her for duty, but have scheduled a follow up psych tomorrow morning. Mr Young raised an objection to that, but I saw no reason to keep her here.”

Boyett began to feel worried. “Okay, Doc. Thanks. Bridge out,” she said. She sat in the centre seat as the weight of something dark began to sit heavily on her shoulders. She thought for a moment before activating the comms.

“Bridge to Jerome Young,” she said.

“Young here,” came a quiet response.

“Mr Young, where are you?” she said.

“On my way to the engine room,” he said.

“We have a situation developing, Mr Young. I could use you on the bridge,” She said.

“No problem, I just need to check something out first, if it can wait ten minutes.”

Boyett decided to press. “The doctor tells me you objected to Amanda Llewellyn’s release from the medical bay?” she said.

“Exactly,” he replied. She had not had much time with the Jycorp CEO and although John Barrington handled him with the strength of his position she hadn’t earned that right with him and was in uncharted waters.