The Agathon: Book One (31 page)

“Bridge... Get ready to vent the engine room,” he said. He looked around the engine room quickly and saw some cowering crew members in various corners.

“Everyone out, on my mark! Don’t look back,” he shouted. Young was still unconscious beside The Betty. That would be a problem, but he’d faced worse situations. Sort of.

“Three.. two... one..” he whispered to himself. He lunged into the centre of the engine room towards the curling plasma nodes and fired two shots at Llewellyn, hitting her in the midsection. The
high
-pitched noise she was making grew in intensity, creating a loud buzz in Chavel’s head. In one smooth motion the creature took a long arcing swing at Chavel. He bent backwards and used his momentum to slide onto the engine room floor and under the oncoming tentacle. He slid beside the monster, and reached to the device clipped onto the back of his jumpsuit belt. In one quick motion he activated the magnetic attachments and placed it on the surface of one of the nodes. The circular grenade bleeped to confirm its attachment.

The ground of the engine room vibrated with a sudden thud of Llewellyn’s legs. They seemed heavy. Chavel ran straight to Young and knelt quickly beside him. Young was unconscious and had a long laceration down the side of his cheek. There was a long series of
high
-pitched squeals from Llewellyn. Chavel knew he only had seconds before an attack took them both out. Reaching behind his shoulder, he unhooked his pulse rifle and began firing shots off in all directions. The engine room lit up with frayed sparks and small detonations from impacts.

He glanced around and saw several crew members fleeing. Llewellyn seemed to be ignoring them, as she turned her attention to The Betty. Her left tentacle began to withdraw and split into thousands of long fibrous strands. She stepped towards the FTL drive and made contact with it. The long
wire
-like strands made contact with the spherical orb and spread themselves around it like an octopus catching its prey. Chavel waited a moment and tried to see what she was doing. The tips of the long wire threads began to glow and pulsate as the lights in the engine room began to flicker.

“David, we’re seeing massive power increases in the FTL drive,” Boyett said over his comm. Young opened his eyes groggily and looked on.

“Primary coolant systems are starting to overheat,” she said.

“It’s trying to blow us up,” said Young sleepily. The air in the engine room began to heat up, as the pulsing energy from Llewellyn’s replacement seemed to grow in intensity. He looked at Emerson’s body on the floor of the engine room and took Young’s arms over his shoulder.

“Bridge, ten seconds,” he shouted.

“Let’s go, Mr Jycorp,” he said, taking Young’s weight onto his shoulders. He took a breath and began running towards the door. Llewellyn’s distorted and
insect
-like metallic face followed their movements. It reached up and threw a final swing at them as they reached the engine room door, but missed. Sparks rained down on Chavel’s head from a fire that had broken out at one of the consoles on the upper level. He turned his shoulder and fired off a few more rounds at Llewellyn, who was now beginning to glow herself. The air began to get hot.

“Fuck it,” he said reaching over to the top of his wrist interface and activating the grenade. With one tap a small but powerful explosion sent Chavel and Young through the open engine room door and into the corridor.

Chavel heard a loud screech and turned to look. The explosion had knocked the Llewellyn monster onto its side, but its long tentacle was still attached to The Betty. He looked at where he had placed the explosive and smiled. Plasma was pouring out of the hole that had been punctured and seeping onto the floor. The Llewellyn creature was becoming covered in it. Arcs of electric current began to flare out of her midsection. It seemed to become angry as it began to dissolve underneath the liquid. He looked at the body of Emerson as it dissolved. The tentacle attached to The Betty broke suddenly, as the joint was severed. Plasma flowed onto its face as its mandibles furiously turned and twisted.

“What’s happening?” Young said, more awake.

“Bridge, seal the engine room doors,” Chavel said into his communicator. The doors began to slide shut, just as a second explosion erupted from Llewellyn’s chest. The last thing Chavel saw was a large tentacle flying through the air, still attached to a part of what was once Amanda Llewellyn’s upper torso.

The Cube

19:14 Martian Standard

“What was the Monolith?” asked Carrie as they quietly made their way through the dimly lit passageway. The walls were a confused array of twisted metal tubes and pipes crawling in every direction. Cables crisscrossed in what looked like a haphazard jumble of mismanaged construction. She needed to talk. Her mind was being watched and she was beginning to feel like she was being led into a trap. She could not feel her father.

“The Monolith?” Tyrell responded, not looking at her.

“Yes, the Monolith. On Phobos. Did your people put it there?”

“You mean the beacon?” he asked, still moving forward.

Carrie sighed. “The device the signal makers used to transmit to Earth. To destroy Earth!” she said, not meaning to raise her voice but doing so anyway. Tyrell didn’t look at her.

“The beacon was placed by the others,” he said.

“Are they the signal makers?” she said. “Why would they destroy Earth? The humans are no threat,” she said.

“The beacon was not placed for you,” he said. He stopped and looked at her. The reflecting light made his eyes even more piercing. “The beacon was placed for us,” he said.

“We must move quickly, Carrie,” he said, resuming his stride forward through the passageway. Carrie hesitated. Tyrell stopped, realising she was not following.

“Have you brought me here to kill me, Doctor?” she blurted out without realising it. She had lost her father and was suddenly starting to feel panic. A small jolt of current ran up her spine. Tyrell looked at her hands, which were open and rigid. He held her gaze for a moment.

“No,” he replied. “We must find the others, Carrie,” he said calmly. “You must trust us.”

“You have killed, Doctor Tyrell,” she replied.

“The Tyrell is not dead,” he replied. “You must trust us. We must find the others.”

There was a moment of silence between them.

“Please,” he added. Carrie took a breath, realising that he was probably the only one who could still get her out of here.

“Calm yourself,” he said. She nodded and motioned him to continue. She kept her palms open. The passageway went on for nearly sixty meters by Carrie’s reckoning, before it ended in an opening. Tyrell stopped at its edge. Carrie followed suit and stopped beside Tyrell at the opening.

A walkway spread out in a number of different directions, but what lay beneath them led to her mouth opening in shock. She was standing on a precipice and looking into an endless canyon of movement. The walls were alive with activity. The ground level seemed to be moving. Small machines scurried over the surface of everything. Some with multiple appendages and some with none. She focused in on a cluster of shiny machines that looked
spider
-like as they surrounded an array of twisted metal. One of them looked like it was welding another one of the machines directly onto the wall. Sparks flew out in all directions, as the small machine was put in place to do whatever it was supposed to do. It was an endless sea of mechanical life all around her that spread on for what looked like a thousand kilometres. Tiny moving lights made the ground look like moving stars in all directions. Walkways snaked thought the mass of artificial structures throughout and then she saw them. Figures of all shapes and sizes. Undeniably organic looking. Some humanoid, some
animal
-like, all mingling amongst the ecosystem of small machines. All shapes and sizes. She looked at Tyrell.

“What is this place?” she whispered.

“The Targlagdu,” he replied. “Stand back,” he said, motioning her to look forward. She followed his eyeline to the figure approaching them. It was humanoid. Tall, nearly seven feet, with dark blue skin and long thin arms. Its hands were split into two distinctive
finger
-like protrusions and its head was long and elongated. Two oval, large black eyes regarded them both as it passed by them and continued along the walkway and out of sight.

“What the hell was that?” she asked, still not able to tap into any thought patterns around her.

“One of the taken,” he replied.

“That’s a machine?” she said.

“It is the Targlagdu,” Tyrell replied. “A race absorbed millennia ago in your terms,” he added.

“Like Llewellyn?” she added. Tyrell looked at her and nodded. “This place replicates the life forms it traps?” she asked.

Tyrell seemed to be looking for something in particular as his gaze made its way around their location. She grabbed his arm.

“What is this place?” she suddenly said, unsure if it was anger or fear controlling her. Tyrell looked at her hand, which was clamped on his arm.

“The Targlagdu feeds on life,” he said. “It replaces it. That which it replaces maintains it.” Carrie looked at the ecosystem of replicated alien life forms intermingled with the machines.

“Your people have been here before?” she asked.

“In the beginning,” he said. “There were more. Now there is only one.”

“Are we getting out of here alive?” she said. Tyrell looked at her and smiled knowingly.

“We will,” he said. “Follow me.”

“Why don’t they attack us?” she asked.

“They will,” he said. “In time.” He began walking down one of the walkways. Carrie followed, keeping a close eye on a cluster of
three
-legged creatures that looked like giraffes. They seemed to be looking over at them from an adjoining walkway. Her gaze was interrupted by a flash image of her father’s voice.

“Carrie!” it screamed from the depths of the darkness ahead.

“Father!” she shouted out loud. Tyrell stopped and looked at her. “He’s alive,” she said. Her heart began to race as the urgency of their rescue became even more apparent. A small group of machines overhead stopped what they were doing and pointed small glowing feelers in their direction.

“We have to hurry,” she said. Tyrell nodded and quickened his pace. The walkway veered off into another corridor away from the main opening of the cube. Carrie figured there must have been thousands of these, servicing millions of replicated life forms and machines.

A few minutes later Carrie found herself in a small room. The light was low but it was enough to see what was on the walls. Carrie shone her light on it. Amanda Llewellyn’s severed head looked back at her. The lips on her mouth were slightly parted and she seemed to be gazing off into the distance. The rest of her body was nowhere to be seen. Small beads of sweat began to trickle down Carrie’s face, as her anxiety levels began to peak.

“Oh my God,” she said, moving closer to her former crew mate. A
cone
-shaped tube flowed from the back of her head and straight into the wall behind her.

“Carrie,” said Tyrell from behind her. She ignored him at first, taking a moment to examine the mechanical attachments to Llewellyn’s severed head.

“Carrie,” he said again, making her turn. Pinned to the other wall with clear
glass
-like restraints attached to every part of his body was her father. She released a sigh and ran over to him, pushing Tyrell out of the way and placing both her hands on the clear coverings. He was unconscious.

“Father!” she said, whispering through the growing trembling of an army of tears she was fighting to hold back. She looked closely at his quiet face. She opened one of his eyes and jumped back when she was faced with an empty socket.

“Oh no,” she said to herself, clasping her hands over her mouth. She returned to his face and opened the other eye. A soft blue but sleeping eye returned her gaze. She gave a light breath and channelled all her energy into his mind.

“Father!” she screamed in silence. His head snapped back and his eye opened. He blinked several times at her, trying to get his bearings.

“Dice?” he said. His mouth seemed dry. She placed a hand on the side of his face. It felt cold.

“That you, Dice?” he said again. She couldn’t help the release of a tear.

“It’s me,” she replied. He frowned at her.

“What the hell are you doing here?” he said, looking at her in disbelief. Tyrell caught his eye.

“Doctor Tyrell?” he said. Tyrell simply nodded.

“We don’t have time for this, Father,” Carrie said.

“I left instructions for the ship to leave,” he said, seemingly angry. “I can’t focus,” he said to her. Carrie looked at his empty socket.

“I know. Just hold on.” She took a step back. Something clicked down the corridor they had entered from.

“We must leave now,” Tyrell said quietly from behind her. She nodded now, sensing something was coming. She reached for the smooth surface of one of the restraints and began to pull.

“Help me,” she said to Tyrell.

“That will not work,” he said softly.

“Close your eyes,” she said to her father. She sensed his doubt, but he nodded.

She took a step back and directed the palm of her hands towards one of the restraints. She took a breath and channelled a single pulse of bright electric light towards the wall. It lit the chamber momentarily and something small scurried across the corner of Carrie’s field of vision. His right arm flopped to his side as the restraint broke easily with the impact. She began to feel a small vibration in the floor. She raised her hand and released several more bursts of energy, with the final one dropping her father onto the floor. He crumpled, seemingly too weak to hold himself upright. Carrie ran over to him and put an arm around his back. Barrington coughed and took several deep breaths.

“Help me, Tyrell,” said Carrie. Tyrell stood there watching them, looking unsure of what she meant. Carrie looked at him furiously.