DEAD SPAC MARTYR PART ONE PUERTO CHICXULUB Part 2 Chapter 17,18, 19

 



17

So far, so good, thought Dantec, or good enough anyway.

He’d probably make it through. His head had been aching

ever since he got into the goddamn sub. Or, if he was to be

honest with himself, for weeks now. Pills didn’t seem to

help. Whatever he did, it was still there, not unbearable, just

always throbbing quietly, keeping him from sleeping,

destroying his concentration. He hadn’t felt so strung out

since the moon skirmishes. For that matter, he hadn’t felt

this confined—this trapped—since then. He hadn’t realized

how much being in a sub underwater was going to feel like

being in a jettison pod in space. It brought all sorts of things

flashing back at him from the moon skirmishes, that weird

war that wasn’t officially a war, where all it took was one

little tear in the fabric of your suit for you to die and where,

by the end, if you wanted to survive, you had to stab a knife

in a buddy’s back just so you could steal what was left of his

oxygen. How many men had he had to kill to stay alive? All

that had changed him, hardened him. He thought at first that

it had lifted him above things, had made it so he wouldn’t

feel fear, wouldn’t be subject to the same emotional

weaknesses as others. But he was beginning to realize that

that wasn’t quite right. True, he’d managed to avoid those

parts of himself for a long time, but they were still there. And

now that they were forcing their way up to the surface, they

were raw and red, more sensitive than an exposed nerve.

And that bastard Hennessy. It didn’t help being stuck with

him. He was a real, genuine fucking chucklehead, that was

for sure. First he had been like a kid in a toy shop, unable

to contain his delight at the F/7, at his new toy. Then put him

in the thing and he does a Jekyll/Hyde, becomes nothing

but panic and nerves and slow collapse into madness. That

was the last thing you wanted in a confined space like this.

In the moon skirmishes, he’d killed men for less.

Not like the thought didn’t cross his mind. But Tanner

didn’t want him to do it. Tanner had been good to him over

the years. Though if Tanner had understood what had really

happened during the moon skirmishes, Dantec knew, he

might treat him a lot differently.

During the skirmishes, Tanner never realized that Dantec

was not interested in saving him so much as stealing his air

supply. Dantec had planned to kill him and take his oxygen

tank, and he would have done it, too, except that, while

looking for a safe place to kill Tanner, he’d stumbled onto a

working transmitter, a technician’s severed and frozen arm

still stuck to it. So, instead of killing Tanner, he called the

dropship to pick them up. Tanner never understood that the

reason he blacked out and almost died before the ship

arrived was because Dantec had turned the airflow on his

tank down. Just in case the ship didn’t come fast enough

and he needed Tanner’s air after all.

But loyalty and guilt toward Tanner weren’t the only

reasons that Dantec hadn’t killed Hennessy. He didn’t like

the idea of killing someone in such a confined space,

where he couldn’t dispose of the body. He just couldn’t

imagine sitting there, knowing the body was behind him,

feeling its dead eyes on his back. Add to that the fact that

over the last six or so hours, he’d actually become a little

afraid of Hennessy. Panicking, then whispering to himself,

speaking to the bulkhead to his left as if there was actually

someone sitting beside him. The man was out of his mind,

and Dantec didn’t want to do anything to provoke him. He

knew, from personal experience, that when people went out

of their minds, they became unpredictable. They could do

things you’d never expect and they’d do them with a

strength you’d never expect them to have.

He just wanted to come through this alive. They’d made it

halfway. They were here now, right beside the monolith,

which, he had to admit, also scared the shit out of him. But

it filled him with awe as well. It had been there more than

fifty million years if the geological data was to be believed.

Which meant it predated humankind. But it was clearly

man-made—or made by some intelligent life. It was mindboggling.

Hennessy was staring out the porthole at it, lost in

contemplation of the thing, looking like his brain had been

switched off.

Dantec had the core sampler primed. It was readied and

partly extended. He’d tested the molecular cutters that

would slice into the stone. Carefully he extended the arm

until it was touching the monolith itself, and then he thrust it

forward and started to cut.

Almost immediately his head was filled with a piercing

pain, so intense that he felt he was going to pass out. His

vision first seemed as though it had been coated in blood

and then it vanished entirely, being replaced by an empty

white expanse. He gripped the control panel, struggling to

breathe. Hennessy was screaming behind him.

Very slowly, the pain began to ebb away. His vision crept

back. Hennessy was moaning, all but passed out behind

him. The core sampler had kept cutting—very slowly, but it

was still cutting. All they needed was a little bit, just a little

bit, and then he could turn the F/7 around and get the hell

out of there.

18

One minute, Hennessy was sitting there, looking at his

brother, everything fine, and the next there was a piercing

noise and his head felt like it was going to burst. His

brother began to shake all over. His head tilted to one side,

his neck tearing open just where it did when Shane had

been killed. He shook more and in a burst his body

exploded, spattering everything with blood. Hennessy

began to scream and suddenly couldn’t breathe. A moment

later the ship around him was spinning, and then darkness.

When he came to, Shane was back, looking just as he

had before he’d dissolved into a burst of blood, the same

strange fixed expression on his face. He’d moved, though,

and was now sitting next to Dantec, facing the other way,

looking back at Hennessy. Or not next to Dantec exactly: he

seemed to be sitting, so it seemed, partly on Dantec. But

as Hennessy pulled himself up, he saw. Shane was partly in

Dantec, their hips fused together, his legs somehow jutting

through the back of the command chair.

“You’re all right?” asked Hennessy.

“Yes,” said Dantec. “Except for my head. And you?”

He shouldn’t be doing this, said Shane, his mouth

moving soundlessly in the air, like a fish out of water. It’s

dangerous. Looking’s bad enough, but touching is too

much. Neither of you should be doing this. Jim, I thought

you were better than that.

“Doing what?” asked Hennessy.

“I’m taking a core sample, of course,” said Dantec. “What

did you expect me to be doing?”

This is not something to be examined, said Shane. This

is not something to be understood. It needs to be left

alone and untouched, where it’s been lying undisturbed

for millions of years. Do you think they would have buried

it this deep if it was meant to be found?

“What does it do?” Hennessy asked.

Dantec still wasn’t looking at him. “It’s a molecular cutter

with a titanium cylinder behind it,” he said. “The circular

cutter makes a round hole and pushes slowly in. Once the

cylinder is far enough in, the cutters rotate to shear off the

end of the sample. I thought you knew all that. Don’t worry,

not much longer, we’re almost done.”

You don’t want to know what it does, said Shane. You

shouldn’t try to destroy it. You shouldn’t listen to it. You

should just leave it alone. You must resist Convergence,

Jim.

“Convergence?”

“What?” said Dantec, half turning around. “I guess that

yes, the molecular beams converge, in a manner of

speaking. But why are you so interested?”

Not to mention the Convergence, said Shane. The last

thing you want to do is get that started. He stretched

uncomfortably in his chair.

“Be careful how you move,” said Hennessy to Dantec.

“You don’t want to tear Shane apart.”

19

Oh, shit, thought Dantec. He turned fully around to face

Hennessy, who immediately started screaming.

“Shane!” Hennessy screamed, “Shane! The blood! The

blood! He’s all over everything! He’s all over you!” Making

gagging sounds, he started rubbing his hands up and down

Dantec’s chest, a terrible expression on his face. “We have

to get him off!” he said, and cast Dantec a desperate look.

“Can’t you see it?” he asked. “Can’t you see the blood?”

Dantec slapped him hard enough to knock him down.

“Just calm down,” said Dantec. He was shaking. “Just

relax.”

“Easy for you to say,” Hennessy was muttering. “It isn’t

your brother who just burst.”

“Hennessy,” said Dantec, “it wasn’t your brother either.

It’s just you and me here.”

But Hennessy was shaking his head. “I saw him,” he was

saying, “I saw him.” His voice was more and more

hysterical. “He was here, I swear, right here, right there,

where you’re sitting, there.”

“But that’s me,” said Dantec, starting to get really

frightened. “How could he be sitting here if I was here the

whole time?”

“He was,” said Hennessy. “He was halfway inside you.

You tore him, and then he burst.”

Oh, shit, thought Dantec again. “Try to get a hold of

yourself, Hennessy,” he said, keeping his voice level.

“You’re imagining things.”

“We have to stop,” said Hennessy. “Shane told me—we

have to leave it alone. We have to bury it and get the hell

out of here. Stop the core sampler!” He was screaming

now. “Put it back!”

“It’s okay,” said Dantec, “I’ll stop it,” he said. “I’m stopping

it now,” he claimed. He reached out for the controls and

then hesitated. It was nearly through, the sample nearly

extracted. Just a few seconds more and they’d have it, and

then they could get the hell out of there.

“Stop it!” raved Hennessy. “Stop it!”

“I’m stopping it,” lied Dantec. “Don’t shout, you’re

confusing me. It’s almost done, I swear.”

And it was done, for at that moment the molecular cutters

finished and the core sampler began to withdraw with its

sample in the extraction cylinder.

“There, you see?” said Dantec. “Everything’s okay.” He

turned around, smiling, just in time to have his jaw broken

by a metal bar. He raised his arm, felt the pain as the bar

struck him there as well. He half slid, half fell out of the

command chair. He saw the bar hit and crumple the

armrest just above his head. It was a strut from the oxygen

recirculator—he wondered how Hennessy had

disassembled it so quickly. He kicked out, watched

Hennessy lurch to one side and stumble against the

bulkhead. Dantec started to scramble up, but his arm

wouldn’t support him. Blood was pouring out of his mouth

and down his chest. He managed to heave himself to his

feet, but Hennessy had already recovered and was coming

at him, bringing the bar down. He raised the broken arm

and Hennessy struck it again, the pain this time so intense

that his vision faded to a dark blur. He slipped in his own

blood and was down again. And then Hennessy struck him

in the head.

As he lay there, the life leaking out of him, he began to

feel people crowding around him. It was impossible. Even

though he was dying, he knew it wasn’t possible, it was only

he and Hennessy there, and even if it were possible, there

were too many people to fit. But even though he was sure it

couldn’t be happening, it was unbearable that it was.

Particularly when he recognized the faces. They were all

men he had been with in the moon skirmishes, men who

not only had died, but died by his hand, so that he could

take their oxygen and survive. One by one, they came

forward while Hennessy continued to batter him with the

iron bar, kneeling beside him and then leaning over him to

suck the breath out of his mouth. When the last one finally

came, he died.

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