PERIL (2 page)

“WARNING! Foreign signatures detected on the hull!” ISIS, the onboard computer announces.

Bains grabs her makeshift plasma weapon from the side of the stasis unit and runs out of Med Lab. She desperately races through the narrow corridors of the ship towards the bridge keeping her weapon ready. Bains enters the bridge and makes her way down the three-tiered sections to the Helm Cockpit. She brings up several holographic displays. One of the displays shows the creatures on the hull of the ship. Another display reads, “MULTIPLE SIGNATURES DETECTED.”

The massive rockets continue to lift the enormous craft high into the air. The ship begins to shake. Bains straps herself into one of the cockpit chairs.

“The creatures are causing significant damage to the hull, Captain. Structural integrity is down twenty-eight percent.”

Bains looks behind her seat and around the room.

“Seal off the bridge!” Bains yells.

“Acknowledged.”

The bridge’s hatch closes as the ship continues its ascent. Its four ion rockets blast white-hot slowly lifting the colossal beast with tremendous effort. The Decima reaches the upper atmosphere and the creatures begin to burn off of her hull. The extreme heat incinerates the creatures that held onto their organic forms. However, some of them retreat back into their gaseous state escaping the inferno.

“No foreign signatures detected on the hull. All systems green,” ISIS states.

Bains releases her seat restraints and the holographic console disappears.

“Check your internal sensors for any life-signs other than mine,” Bains commands.

“Negative for additional life-signs.”

Bains looks over the stationary consoles at the data being displayed and then she peers behind her cockpit chair for a second look. She’s on edge.

“Check the environmental systems.”

“It would help if I knew what we we’re looking for
, Captain.”

“The baby, ISIS. We’re looking for the baby.”

“Lt. Amanda Magruder’s baby?” ISIS inquires.

“Yeah that’s right. I think she may have been infected by the life-forms we encountered on the planet,” Bains says nervously.

Suddenly, the hatch opens then closes. Bains climbs up the tiered cockpit section and rushes over to the hatch, but finds nothing.

“ISIS did you open the hatch?”

“Negative, Captain. Sensors are picking up intermittent life-signs on the bridge. Unable to localize its position.”

Bains scopes the bridge and moves cautiously towards her weapon. Mya, the infant, has been completely transformed into a mist creature. It moves unseen around the cockpit knocking over instruments and equipment along the way. Bains quickly grabs her plasma rifle. She cranks the charging mechanism on the weapon feverishly. It emits a high-pitched whine as it ramps up preparing to fire.

“Captain, discharging that weapon on the bridge is unadvisable. You could hit the navigational controls,” ISIS warns.

Another piece of equipment is knocked over this time closer to Bains.

“Shit!” Bains yells.

Suddenly, the creature reveals itself. It is beautifully grotesque and opposing. It slowly rises before Bains in an upright position. As it stands before her, the creature’s limbs uncoil and attach to the stationary console. The cockpit lights flicker and all the holographic consoles blink off and on as well. The creature dissolves into a liquid form over the console then it transforms into a mist. It enters the console through a crevice between its panels.

“Accessing stellar maps…Charting course to Earth…Course laid-in,” ISIS states.

“ISIS, can you shut her out?” Bains asks panicked.

“Negative, Mya, has linked directly to my core systems.”

Bains approaches the console and spiny snake- like appendages emerge from it. Bains fires her weapon at the slimy protrusions hitting the navigational controls. The console explodes and an alarm is triggered.

“WARNING! Navigation and propulsion systems are offline! The ship is being pulled back towards the planet’s asteroid rings. Eight minutes to impact!”

Bains rushes off of the bridge. The ship drifts toward the eerie planet’s asteroid belt. Bains feverishly runs through the ship’s corridor being cautious of additional intruders. She has only one option to her current dilemma. The escape shuttle! Her thoughts race as her body courses with adrenaline. Will it be compromised? If so then what? There was only one way to find out.

“Focus, bitch,” she whispers to herself as she runs down the dark labyrinth ready to fire her weapon on anything that moves.

Bains arrives at the shuttle. She moves cautiously into it as her eyes shift from left to right prepared for any potential intruders. It appears all clear. She quickly preps the shuttle for launch,
racing against time to avoid imminent danger.

“ISIS, transfer your systems to the shuttle!” She commands.

The holographic console glows neon blue as ISIS’s systems go online. Bains attaches two neuro-interface fiber optic leads to her temples to give her better control over the shuttle.

“Transfer complete. Shall I run Pre-Launch System’s Check, Captain?”

“Skip the formalities and initiate Launch Protocols!” Bains quips.

“Acknowledged! Launch Protocols initiated. Docking clamps released.”

The shuttle dips slightly as a result of the clamps disengaging. Some of the asteroids slam into the Decima’s ore storage tanks causing large explosions.

“Engines online,” ISIS states.

“Launch!” Bains screams.

Several more asteroids bombard the massive ship causing several more explosions. The shuttle disembarks from the Decima racing through the firestorm. Bains skillfully traverses the maze of fire. However, some of the Decima’s debris careens into its side. The small shuttle shakes violently and alarms are set-off.

“WARNING! HULL BREACH! AFT SECTION!” ISIS announces.

Oxygen begins to escape the shuttle as its rear compartment is exposed. Loose debris blows throughout the cabin exiting its rear.

“Seal rear hatch!” Bains yells.

A large emergency bulkhead slams shut sealing off the rear of the shuttle. Bains snatches the fiber optic leads from her temples and rushes to a caged section of the shuttle, which houses environmental suits. She slides the cage open and snatches one of the suits off a rack. She scrambles to put it on. She shakes uncontrollably as she slips her tiny frame into the bulky suit. After climbing into the suit she grabs a helmet and puts it on. Detecting the attachment, the suit automatically lights up indicating its active.

“Send out a distress beacon!”

“Acknowledged,” ISIS responds.

The inside of Bain’s helmet displays digital holographic information about the suit. It indicates that she only has thirty minutes of air available. She makes her way back to the cockpit chair and straps herself in. Another explosion ignites in the rear compartment of the shuttle ripping the rear hatch apart.

The rear compartment is now exposed to the vacuum of space sucking the remaining debris out into the void.

“Scan for any nearby ships!” Bains orders.

“Commencing scans. Ship found! Sector L25,” ISIS responds.

Minor explosions erupt on the shuttle’s console around Bains.

“Can you get us there?”

“NEGATIVE!”

“TRY DAMN
IT!” Bains screams.

ISIS fires the remaining rocket fuel, but the spent rocket’s give only short bursts then fizzles out. The shuttle is adrift. Bains releases her harness and floats above her seat.

“I am detecting several signatures emerging from the asteroid belt, heading on a direct intercept course with the shuttle, Captain.”

Bains kicks off from her seat and floats over to a side viewport. To her horror she can see a massive mist cloud approaching the shuttle. Another explosion ignites, this time it is one of the shuttle’s secondary engines. ISIS’s voice takes on an authoritative tone; it’s an automatic warning. The computer is no longer interactive.

“WARNING! COOLANT RUPTURE! MAIN ENGINE DETONATION IMMINENT! ABANDON SHIP! ABANDON SHIP!” the computer bellows.

Bains drifts back over to the cage and grabs a jetpack. She slides her arms through its straps putting the pack on her back. She methodically tightens the strap around her torso and taps a control unit on her arm. The jetpack magnetizes to the back of her suit.

Bains’ visor display reads, “JETPACK ENGAGED” and flashes in red letters, “REMAINING OXYGEN TIME: 13 MINUTES.” She is visibly distraught. She drifts over to a wall adjacent to the gaping hole in the rear of the shuttle and kicks off lunging through it into space.

“Activate voice command,” she orders the suit.

High pitched bleeps and tones sound off indicating the voice command activation.

“Fire jetpack rockets,” she cries out.

The rockets on her pack expel a fluid like gas propelling her forward. The holographic display in her visor types out pertinent data corresponding with the amount of fuel she’s exhausting. The phrase, “FUEL LEVEL: 10% REMAINING” flashes in bold red letters before her eyes.

Bains looks back at the shuttle, which is a considerable distance from her. She sees a large alien mist cloud overtaking the shuttle. She stares in horror. The shuttle’s main engine finally detonates destroying the craft. The reflection of the explosion illuminates on her visor. One blast, then another and another completely obliterates what’s left of her shuttle.

Surprisingly, the explosion has no affect on the alien mist cloud. It turns its attention to Bains and drifts in her direction. Bains looks away at the vast array of stars in front of her and fires her rockets again trying to escape the approaching mass of death.

Her visor now indicates that she has depleted the remaining jet fuel. In vain she fires her jets again. The rockets expel nothing. Her visor flashes, “FUEL DEPLETED” and “REMAINING OXYGEN: 4 MINUTES.”

The mist is advancing on her position.  Her visor now reads, “REMAINING OXYGEN: 3 MINUTES 25 SECONDS.” The mist is almost on top of her now.

“OH GOD!” Bains cries out.

Bains shuts her eyes expecting to be devoured by the mist. Suddenly, out of nowhere a strange spacecraft drops out of light speed directly above her. Its enormous unlike anything she’s ever seen before. It’s like a city ship with strange flashing lights ranging in different colors all over it. The ship discharges multiple beams of light into the mist dissipating it instantly.

The ship is massive, ominous and opposing. Bains’ visor reads, “REMAINING OXYGEN TIME: 2 MINUTES AND 10 SECONDS.” She barely even notices the time. Her gaze is fixed on the craft. She is in awe of the enormous ship. She is directly beneath it. The vessel’s reflection on her visor reveals a large hatch on the underside of the craft with strange symbols on them. She’s seen these symbols before. The hatch begins to open. A blinding white light envelops a terrified Bains. She can hear her heart beating and increased breathing. The sound of her breaths is synchronous with the seconds counting down on her visor. Her heartbeat has become so loud its deafening as she is gripped by fear of the unknown entity.

The white light pulls her upward toward the mouth of the open hatch in the alien city ship. Her visor now reads, “REMAINING OXYGEN TIME: 1 MINUTE.” The white light surrounds her as she disappears into the ship. Her visor now reads, “REMAINING OXYGEN TIME: 53 SECONDS.”

Her life begins to flash before her eyes. She remembers the faces of her now dead crew. Then the light in the in the vessel begins to strobe. She remembers Lt. Amanda Magruder and her baby, Mya. The images flashing before her become m
ore intense and she remembers accepting her commission on the Decima––––the lights strobe faster and faster. It’s hard to make out her surroundings. She catches a glimpse of three large figures standing at least ten to fifteen feet tall around her. They are bizarre and unlike the creatures of the mist. One of them grabs her by the collar of her environmental suit and lifts her above it.

Her visor now flashes, “REMAINING OXYGEN TIME: 15 SECONDS.” Then another memory flashes before her eyes. She remembers being told she was pregnant by her physician, then holding a picture of a sonogram of her unborn baby onboard the Decima. She then remembers telling her husband that she terminated the pregnancy to go on the mission to MV5.

Her heart is pounding, faster and faster, louder and louder. She allows her mind to take her back to where it all began, light years away on Earth, forty-seven months ago…

Captain
Vanessa Bains remembers sitting in her living room staring blankly out of her two hundred and fifty story apartment bay window. The forty-seven month old memory is a welcomed diversion from her current ordeal. Her memory continues, it’s night and her domicile is surrounded by glass that overlooks a futuristic city landscape. Vanessa lounges on a sofa watching as the passenger shuttles, flying homes and other vehicles wiz by. The dulled headlights of the fast-moving crafts and the glowing lights emanating from their clean energy burning rear rockets offer her little comfort. Massive neon signs and holographic images fill the dark sky. Product placement and expensive off-world vacations offer distraction with promises of a better tomorrow. Thinking back on the day’s events and the anticipation of her husband’s arrival gives her mixed emotions of hope, sadness and grief as she stares off into the colorful dark abyss of night.