Lone Marine Read online

  “A little late for that,” Tully said. He knew the A.I. would probably respond so he quickly added in, “Belay that.”

  He started to make his way to the door, but then he stopped and pivoted back towards the interior of the cabin.

  “You said the collection detective system was malfunctioning?” he asked.

  “Affirmative,” the A.I. replied.

  “Why?” he asked. This would explain why their bird went down so fast and so hard. Still, he was surprised a system pre-check hadn’t caught the issue sooner.

  “Still running system diagnostic,” the A.I. replied. “Results inconclusive.”

  Tully considered this. If it was a simple hardware issue, wouldn’t the A.I. have picked it up already? Why else would the results be inconclusive? Eventually, Tully decided he had to put it out of his mind. He couldn’t fix the collision system – that was the A.I.’s job – and knowing what happened to the system didn’t render his team any less dead or him any less stranded.

  “Alfie, I’m going to go out for a stroll. Tell me when the repairs are finished on your end,” he said.

  “Unknown access point. Correct call signs are ‘computer’, ‘comp’, ‘tactical artificial assistance’ or . . .” the computer continued.

  “How about I just call you ‘tact’?” Tully suggested. “Since you clearly have so much of that quality.”

  “Tact is a confirmed call sign designation,” the A.I. said.

  “Great,” Tully said as he opened the door. “Glad we agree on something. Finally.”

  The only response Tully received was the snake hiss of the door opening as he stepped on the surface of Tartarus Five. The ice cracked beneath his boot as he plodded a trail outside, away from the downed Scout ship.

  It’s almost kind of pretty out there, in a nightmarish, foreboding kind of way.

  “Tact, how long till self-repairs are complete?” he asked.

  “Approximately three hours,” the artificial intelligence responded.

  Surely kicking off an afternoon with a pleasant stroll on an unexplored moon could not be bettered?

  Calming wouldn’t be the word Tully used to describe his “stroll”. Walking in the hefty armor was a far cry from perambulating down the street. Instead of the sounds of nature or a buzzing city, Tully only had the sounds of his own breathing to comfort him. The monotony of that alone was maddening in and of itself.

  Beyond that, he still had to take caution. The soles of his boots had built-in sensors that would detect any structural weakness below. Of course, the sensors would take several seconds to relay any signs of trouble to his HUD – more than enough time for him to make the wrong step that sent him spiraling down a cavern to his doom.

  After a couple of minutes, he felt better. He fell into the habit of treading carefully with each step. At least the view was, for the most part, impressive; with icy spires reaching towards the stars. He pressed on his com.

  “I don’t suppose you know any jokes, Tact,” he said over the radio.

  “I’m a tactical combat assistance unit. I do not know any jokes,” Tact responded.

  Tully didn’t know why, but he laughed anyway. Something in the way that Tact said it. That, or he might actually be losing it. Regardless, he continued on.

  He expected the uneasiness about his stroll to subside. He learned to correctly measure the impact of each step. He even learned to snap a few photos of his surroundings. He posed at the top of a particularly large drift, showing the vast, spiky landscape below.

  “Tact, can you snap a selfie?” he asked.

  “I am not equipped for that feature,” the artificial intelligence responded dryly, if it was possible for the monotone voice to be anything other than dry.

  “Probably for the best,” he said. “I really don’t want to think what Marines would do with that feature.”

  The strange thing was he still felt uneasy. A deep pit fell into his growling stomach. Even clad with half-inch thick durasteel armor, his shoulder still shuddered with a chill. A new realization washing over him like a tidal wave. This wasn’t the feeling of fighting for survival on an icy planet.

  This was the sensation of being watched.

  But by who?

  “Tact, old buddy, old pal,” Tully said. “Did you by any chance launch a drone in my area?”

  “Negative. All drones were lost on impact,” the computer responded.

  Then why did he feel so tense with every step? He continued his trek, only to be confronted by the stinging sensation of warm liquid in his eye.

  Sweat.

  How could he be sweating in his current location? It was three hundred and twenty-seven degrees below zero. He checked his HUD. Only it wasn’t three hundred degrees below zero. It was one hundred and fifty below zero. It was still cold enough to freeze his testicles into snowballs . . . but it was an inexplicably significant temperature drop.

  Tully looked forward. There seemed to be an opening in the icy crust of the moon. He measured the temperature at the opening. It was up to one hundred degrees below zero. Whatever was down there was a relative sauna compared to the rest of the moon.

  Well, I might as well get down there, Tully thought. Whatever’s down there sure seems a hell of a lot more comfortable than up here.

  Just then, Tact buzzed him. “Private, you should return to the ship. Self-repair is almost complete.”

  “Thanks. I’ll be right there,” he said. “I just have to check something out.”

  Tully slowly climbed down the icy slope into the mouth of the cave. As far as his foot sensors were concerned, this place was fine. Still, progress was slow going since it was a slope. Tully really didn’t want to trip over himself or go sliding down the hill. He didn’t want to give away the element of surprise, especially if whatever was down here was in fact hostile.

  Hostile? What am I expecting? An alien welcoming party?

  Then again, it was certainly a day of many unexpected firsts. He scanned his wrist lights for any signs of trouble or cave-in’s. He didn’t see any. What interested him was how smooth the ground was. Whatever had entered the crust had cut through like a knife, with very little chance for jagged edges.

  The signal was growing stronger. Whatever it was, whatever the Marines were looking for, it was definitely down here in some fashion. He just had to find it.

  One foot after the other.

  Tully proceeded down the entrance which unfolded into a massive cavern. As soon as the base was in sight, he slid down the remainder of the slope. The cave was far larger than anything he’d ever seen. By his own estimate, he was at least a couple of hundred feet below the surface of the moon.

  A glimmering structure appeared in the distance. Tully almost missed it amid the bright lights of his HUD, so he switched off the faceplate and approached the glimmer. He heard a soft flutter in the distance which sounded like a thousand whoopy-cushions slowly deflating. It was a poor analogy, but it was the only one he could offer on four hours of sleep.

  The glow intensified. Tully raised his wrist to examine the armor’s on-board diagnostics. Usually he’d just use the HUD, but he wanted to see the full measure of this strange object. That didn’t mean, however, he couldn’t be cautious. He checked the radiation levels. Oddly enough, they remained nominal despite the clear extent of energy being put out.

  He continued down the tunnel. He reached out and ran his gloved hand over the curved wall. Everything else on this death-trap moon, from the spiky spires to the icy drifts, was clearly homegrown. This didn’t seem natural. But by the same measure, Tully couldn’t think of a human tool that would result in such a well-rounded tunnel that wouldn’t take weeks or months to build. Unless there was an underground human outpost on the other side of this wall, Tully felt a chill run down his spine as he considered what might be on the other side of this tunnel.

  When he wasn’t skipping class, Tully had read books on the extensive cave systems of Earth before it was rendered unlivable. He saw
words like “tourist traps” and “spelunking”, words that no longer had much meaning in a world after the fall of Earth. He couldn’t help but feel a bit nostalgic for all those books he read back in the day.

  “I wish I’d paid more attention,” he said, and then he realized his com was still on.

  Oh well. It’s not like anyone is going to reply.

  Tact proved him wrong.

  “Paying attention may be paramount to your survival, Private Tully,” the monotone voice prodded him.

  So much for no sense of humor.

  “I have been attempting to reach you for the past twenty minutes,” Tact said. “But my system indicated a massive interference.”

  “Yeah, I think I know a little bit about that,” Tully said as he starred down the end of the tunnel at the shimmering lights.

  “Repairs will be complete in a matter of minutes. Please return to the ship,” the computer said.

  “Well, what’s the rush, Tacky? The way I see it I still have a few minutes left on my lunch break,” Tully felt a bit petty arguing with the machine.

  “Tacky is not my designation, and Marines do not have lunch breaks,” Tact replied.

  “We really should unionize,” Tully retorted.

  “I would advise against it as such an action may be classified as treason,” Tact warned.

  “Semantics,” Tully shrugged, though Tact couldn’t see him, and even if the artificial intelligence could, he doubted the gesture would mean much to the A.I.

  “Private Tully, if you are too late returning to the ship, you will miss your window of opportunity to rendezvous with the Astraeus,” Tact reminded.

  “I’ll be home before curfew, Mom,” Tully sighed.

  “My designation is not-” Tact started, but blissfully the signal was lost as Tully proceeded down the tunnel.

  As much as Tully didn’t want to admit it, Tact had a point. If he was too long on this little errand, he’d miss his window. He didn’t know what the Astraeus would do if he didn’t make the rendezvous. Sending out a search party was the next logical step, but he’d probably be out of air by then. Either way, he had to make that window.

  Unless he could get a message to them another way. Which could be on the other side of the tunnel. He’d have to make this quick. He would see what was in this tunnel, ascertain if it was capable of delivering a message back to the Astraeus, and if it was not, he’d high-tail it back to the Scout ship.

  It was as simple as that.

  The light at the end of the tunnel intensified. Tully stepped over the threshold, and into the largest section of the cave.

  “Oh shit . . .” he said, and after that, there were no more words.

  A massive structure occupied the cavern. It was easily twenty times the size of the Scout ship. It may have been even bigger than the Astraeus. The ship’s color was different to the gray durasteel chrome Tully was accustomed to seeing on every fleet ship. Instead, this ship was as black as obsidian, with pathways channeling bright green lines crisscrossing over the ship’s exterior.

  This isn’t one of ours. This ship . . . it’s alien.

  Four

  It wouldn’t be the first-time humans had encountered something like that. Drummer had always told them before every mission, “Weird shit happens in space.” Still, Tully never thought he’d be the sole Marine responsible for a first encounter.

  There was no activity from the ship when Tully approached. No little green man emerged asking for Tully to take him to his leader. No ray gun appeared to vaporize him. The entire ship remained softly humming in its idle state.

  Maybe no one’s home. Or there maybe they’re just asleep. Either way, it’d be pretty rude to wake them.

  Advancing on the ship cautiously, Tully ran his hands down what appeared to be the ship’s hull. The material seemed lighter than the durasteel he was used to. Despite its slate coloring, the material felt more like tin foil than steel. The slightest pressure caused the foil to slowly dent. At first, Tully took a cautious step backwards, worrying his intrusion would rouse the alien ship from its slumber. Instead, it remained as still as he had found it.

  The ice around the ship was equally peculiar. Despite the freezing temperatures, the ship itself remained free of frost and ice, or at least it seemed that way until Tully noticed the cold and rough material at his feet. At first glance, Tully had though the material no more than black ice at the ship’s base, but on closer examination, it looked like the same tin foil matter the spacecraft was made from, but with the same consistency as ice. It was as if the spacecraft had somehow burrowed into the moon itself.

  Maybe that’s why it didn’t show up on any scans, because it somehow managed to merge with the moon.

  Of course, the alien spacecraft hadn’t completely managed to evade detection. There was still the matter of the signal his team had been sent here to investigate. He kept his HUD powered off so he could keep the entire ship in view while he studied it. The signal was still coming in strong.

  Tully walked two paces towards the craft’s center. The pulse of the signal hummed deeply, like the purring of a deeply content cat. Tully took three steps backwards, in the direction he imagined the ship’s dormant engines to lie. He checked the signal again. Now the pulse sounded like a heartbeat, thrumming hard and loud.

  With this newfound data in mind, Tully moved closer and closer to the ship’s center. With every yard, the signal intensified and quickened the closer he came to the heart of the ship. By the time he stood at the ship’s exact center, the signal was actually sputtering.

  Are they aware of my presence after all?

  Tully brought his left hand to the ship’s hull once more. The material seemed different at the center of the craft, more like durasteel than the foil material he had examined earlier. In fact, it felt like it could actually be tougher than durasteel, but that might have just been Tully’s imagination.

  He checked the signal again. The sputtering pulse had almost flatlined. Whatever was going on with this signal, it was reacting to him. Tully wasn’t sure if this could be construed as good or bad.

  Tully brought his HUD display back up as he snapped photos of the craft. Whatever this was, the fleet needed to know about it. Since no little green men were coming out to greet him, Tully figured he had the run out of the place. Of course, he knew a pesky artificial intelligence that would disagree with him.

  “Private Tully, you are needed at the ship immediately,” Tact said on his commlink.

  “Missed me that much, huh?” Tully replied.

  “You are not designated missing in action at this time,” Tact said.

  “I’ll just go ahead and take that as a yes,” Tully said as he surveyed the alien ship.

  “Private Tully, you are required to complete necessary repairs,” Tully listened for an air of frustration in Tact’s voice, but regretfully, he detected none. “Specifically, you are needed to remove the four corpses from the hold so I may finish repairs.”

  It seemed like Tully’s naming of Tact worked. It felt wrong to refer to his team as “corpses”, even if that’s what they were. Despite his insistence however, semantics weren’t important now. He had more pressing matters to attend to.

  “Listen, Tact, the situation has changed,” Tully continued to survey the alien ship’s hold using his HUD. Then he suddenly stopped.

  “Did you say four corpses?” he blurted.

  “Correct,” Tact replied. “Private Laskey, Private Rodriguez, Corporal Conway and Sergeant Drummer.”

  “What about Private Cole Becker?” Tully asked.

  “I have no record of a Marine by that name on this roster,” Tact said.

  “Tact, look at the hold,” Tully said.

  “I do not possess visual optical sensors like-” Tact started and Tully immediately sighed.

  “Tact, just check the hold.” He replied. “How many corpses are in the hold?”

  “Four. Private Laskey. Private Rodriguez. Corporal Conway. Sergean
t Drummer,” Tact confirmed.

  The chill returned to Tully’s spine. Where was Cole’s body? His armor had been glitching, but the guy was definitely dead. After all, Tully had moved his body to the hold with the rest of his comrades. Cole had to have been dead.

  A terrifying thought occurred to him. Had Tully prematurely stuck Cole in a body bag and then shoved him down into the hold beneath the Scout ship’s cabin interior? Given how Tully couldn’t check Cole’s vitals, it was possible. But even if that was the case, if Cole was alive, he could most certainly have freed himself from the body bag, even if it meant using his armor’s K-Bar to tear it open.

  What if he was too injured to get the bag open?

  The thought of Cole, injured beyond repair, bleeding out in the hold and terrified was sufficient to cause Tully nightmares for the rest of his days. But even this theory didn’t track. Cole could simply have alerted Tact of the situation, which would have relayed the message to Tully. As it stood, though, Tact had no record of Cole even existing.

  Ever.

  Cole was real, right? Tully had spoken to him before the meeting. The problem was, he couldn’t determine whether anyone else had spoken to him before the mission. He was a relatively new member of the team. He’d just shown up. He wasn’t one of the guys yet.

  He may not have been one of the guys ever.

  He may never have existed. That’s what Tact’s records indicated.

  Oh great, Tully thought. Just what he needed. He was going nuts. Space dementia was setting in. Had he completely imagined Cole Becker? It sounded like a terrible plot twist in a movie.

  But if he had imagined him, what purpose did Private Cole Becker serve? From Tully’s limited understanding of psychology, most delusions served some purpose – whether it was to cope with trauma or to cover up regressed memories.

  Cole had been neither. If anything, the newbie was just an added trauma for Tully. What was going on?

  “Could you repeat that last statement?” he asked.