Tethered by JJ de Melo
A Filipino doctor on an interstellar colonisation mission is woken from cryosleep when the captain is found killed in an impossible way.
Tik. Tik. Tik.
You're hearing it again.
"Doctor!"
You can barely see. Your eyes are slow to recover from years closed in cryogenic slumber. Over you stands a dark figure. Blurred. Familiar in the worst way.
"Doctor! Wake up!"
Your vision sharpens. It's Solomon, chief engineer for the Proliferate 8. You mistook his silhouette for shadows. For Him. But that noise!
Tik. Tik.
You shoot up. Immediately you're assaulted with the nauseating sensation of vertigo. You twist over the edge of your stasis pod. Retch. Groan. Solomon rubs your back. Catches sweet, milky discharge in a receptacle.
"It's alright, doctor. Only a bit of cryostasis hangover."
You know that. You're the doctor.
Tiktik. Tiktik.
"Do you hear that clicking?" you ask him.
"What?"
"Nevermind." Wipe a forearm across your mouth.
"Finally! You're up!" Pilar, the ship's navigator, storms into your quarters. The steelwork box feels cramped with the three of you. "We're in some serious shit. Can you walk?"
"Hold on." Swing your legs out from the pod. The anti-atrophy stockings you slept in keep your feet warm against the ship's cool, sterile floor. The spins pass. Standing feels natural again. "What's going on?"
"It's bad. The captain -" Pilar begins.
The ship's AI cuts her off. "Now that you are awake, doctor, I will brief you on the situation." Hachi's voice is upbeat. Metallic. Ubiquitous throughout the ship.
Pilar rolls her eyes but lets him talk. You smirk at her irritation. Open your closet. Get dressed in that same smooth, indigo uniform as the others.
"It is Year 4, Day 139 of the Proliferate 8's journey to establish Colony Juarez."
You shake out your hair - it kept growing all these years - and tie it back. Sip post-stasis recovery fluid from a squirt bottle. Self-administer a dose of similarly purposed chemicals with an auto-injectable from your medkit.
"I have enacted Emergency Protocol Delta: Awake the ship's executive panel should a death occur in transit. In the event that -"
"Get on with it, Hachi!" Pilar yells at the ceiling.
"Fine," Hachi says. He sounds convincingly offended. "My vital sensors indicate Captain Meer has expired."
You gasp. "What?"
"I recommend the doctor promptly verify my assessment."
The cabin door whooshes open as Pilar steps into the hall. "Come on."
You grab your medkit on the way out. Solomon follows.
The concave floor of the ever-rotating gravity ring you reside in gives the illusion of walking uphill. But outside the portholes, the infinite stars and the unsettlingly shrunken sun remind you where you are. An unfathomable distance from home.
You reach the captain's quarters. Hear it again.
Tik. Tik. Tik.
Whip your head back. Startle Solomon. Look past him. Nothing. A row of can lights flicker in quick succession, but that's nothing unusual.
"Doc," Pilar says. "Focus."
"Sorry. Still foggy," you apologize. Pat Solomon on the chest.
Double doors slide open and Pilar ushers you through. Solomon opts to stay back.
"I already checked her," Pilar tells you. "But you're the pro."
Across from you lies Captain Regina Meer, dressed in the same anti-atrophy garments you just woke up in. But Regina doesn't look asleep in that glowing cradle. She's pale, icy. The readings on the monitor above her bed have all flatlined.
You step up. Open the bubble glass of the pod. Gas exchanges with a hiss as you withdraw a stethoscope. Its buds fill your ears. You touch the diaphragm to the woman's chest. Place two fingers to her throat. You've made this call a hundred times. This one hits hardest.
You call it. "She's dead."
"And the baby?" Pilar asks.
As a human propagation mission, it was almost poetic to have a qualified, pregnant captain lead the voyage. But things have turned downright macabre. You move the stethoscope atop Regina's swollen belly. Confirm with your scanner.
This can't be happening. The priest had assured you.
"Gone too."
Pilar tries to comfort you but you wave her off. Sniffle. Grab an empty syringe. Hunch over the captain. Find a vein. Prick. No blood fills the vial. Like you feared.
He's here.
THAT'S RIGHT. IT'S BEEN A WHILE. HASN'T IT?
There's an unholy darkness in the corner of the room. You turn to face it. Gone. You wonder where. He answers.
TO FIND MORE.
"What's up?" Pilar asks.
"There's..." You struggle to steady yourself. "There's no blood."
"What?"
"Regina doesn't have any blood in her veins. Neither does the baby."
Pilar stares back blankly. "How is that possible?"
Shake your head. You know. You can't explain it to her.
"Hachi," Pilar commands. "When did you detect the captain's death?"
"A medical doctor has confirmed the death of Regina Meer. As the former first mate, you are the captain now, Captain Del Rey."
"Shut up and answer me!"
"I'm afraid I don't understand. Shut up? Or answer?"
"Answer! And rollback AI personality function by ninety percent."
"Yes, captain." Hachi's voice is instantly less animated. "Regina Meer's death was recorded 48 minutes ago."
Pilar turns your way. "How does all her blood disappear less than an hour after she's dead?"
BECAUSE I EAT FASTER THAN THAT.
Your long sleep weakened your hold on Him. You need to reel Him back without alarming the others. Alone. You gesture at the cryostasis fluid tubes still mainlining what's left of Regina.
"Maybe something malfunctioned with her life support? Have Solomon check it out."
The doors reopen as you pass Pilar. "Wait. How about an autopsy?" she asks.
"No blood. Check the tubes. That's what I got for now."
As long as the new captain doesn't order it directly, you can put off the autopsy. You pass Solomon, his face pressed on the porthole across the hall, taking in the weight of that infinite, black void.
"Solomon, can you check the fluid system on Regina's pod?"
"Sure." He straightens up. "Where're you going?"
"The fetal cryochamber. I'll be right back."
THERE ARE OTHERS. GOOD.
He's hungry after four and a half years. Your minds are tethered, but He usually doesn't listen so closely. Your bond isn't so strong that He can track your every movement, but He never strays far. Better be quick.
You reach the ladder to the ship's main hull. Ascend the narrow passage it traverses until mechanically generated gravity gives way to the zero-G of the ship's rotationally static core. Floating in the central corridor, you pull yourself along railings and footholds toward the back of the ship. You wonder if you compromised everything.
You were wrong after all. He isn't bound to Earth.
THAT'S RIGHT. I AM BOUND ONLY TO YOU. ALWAYS.
At that, you stop moving. Grasp a pipe with one hand. Bury your face in the other. Weep. The priest assured you that you'd be free off-planet. You should have listened to your grandmother - Lola had no faith the bond could be severed.
A shaman once told your parents the curse would break if you left the Philippines. Lola said it wouldn't be so easy. She was right. He followed you to the States. How come you thought this would be different?
"Doc?" You wipe your eyes. Find Solomon before you. "You alright?"
"I'm fine. It's a lot. That's all."
Liar.
"Yes." He nods. "I'm pretty shaken too."
You're not listening. You're watching a mess of darkness and feathers and wings dash across the hall at the front of the ship. His filthy appendages contrast starkly with the sleek, sterile interior of the vessel. The hall lights go out and everything becomes as obscured as Him.
"I better go," you say. Start moving again. Guide your way with the tiny flashlight you pull from your medkit. "Can you check what's going on with the circuits? The dark won't make this any easier."
"I'm right behind you," Solomon says. He pulls a larger, heavier torch from the mech-belt that hangs loosely from his waist. "The breakers are past the cryochamber."
Just your luck. You want privacy. Once you confirm the specimens are safe, you can pray Him back into docility. But with Solomon here...
"Solomon, do you believe in spirits?" you ask. "You know, souls, ghosts, that sort of thing?"
He hesitates. A faith-charged civil war compromised the Proliferate 3. Since then, missions filter strictly for superstition-averse and non-religious candidates. The screening could be outsmarted though. You did it. You can't be the only one.
"I have faith in certain things," he answers vaguely. "I guess spirits are part of it."
You nod. "And evil ones?"
"Demons?"
"In the Philippines we called them aswang. Sure."
"Then yes. I believe in aswang..." The talk unnerves him. He cuts his flashlight beam through the darkness more methodically now. "Please don't tell the captain."
"Trust me. I won't." You know this sort of banter is mutiny. "What's she up to anyway?"
"She pulled Lee from stasis."
"Lee Calhoun? From security?"
"Yes. They're reviewing security footage. Pilar suspects foul play."
"Foul play? By who?"
"A stowaway maybe?"
"Undetected by Hachi for years? I can't imagine -" You realize where you are. "Hold on."
The door to the fetal cryochamber looks like any other on the ship - a steel barricade with a single slot window. A soft blue glow shimmers through the narrow opening. Illuminates you and Solomon like aquarium patrons. You stow your flashlight and peek through. Find everything on the other side in order. Thousands of frozen pre-humans stacked and shelved across the glass, set for staggered development once you break ground on the colony. The freezers housing them look unscathed. You tap the monitor by the door. All readings normal.
He hasn't been here.
"Going in?" Solomon asks you.
"No." Shake your head. "The barrier wasn't breached. Let's leave it that way."
A palm reader by the monitor will do the opposite. You stay far from it.
Tiktik. Tiktik. Tiktik.
"What is that?"
"Solomon!"
Flapping wings. Spiraling shadows. A blur of feathers and claws. The mass emerges from obscurity and passes straight through Solomon. The man yells at the otherworldly sensation. A tormenting chill he has never experienced before.
HERE THEY ARE!
The humanoid darkness slams into the door, but doesn't pass through as expected. Tik, tik, tik, He goes, scuttling around the seal, looking for a way in. You're surprised. This sort of thing normally wouldn't hold Him back.
Your lips crest at this small triumph. An invisible plasma shield encapsulates the cryochamber. Protecting the unborn humans from cosmic radiation, it appears to have the same effect on Him. Getting a physicist and a demonologist together to explain why will always be beyond your means.
LET ME IN.
You address Him for the first time since waking. "You can't have them!" you yell.
Terrified, Solomon braves a swing of his flashlight. It slips through the shadows.
THEN HE WILL HELP ME.
"No!"
The shadows engulf Solomon, then suck into his chest like a collapsing star.
"AaaAAahH!"
"Solomon!" you scream.
Though He haunts your mind, an unspoken technicality of your pact keeps Him from controlling your physical body. The people you surround yourself with are not so lucky.
You watch Solomon's eyes roll back, his posture go rigid. Joints snap with sickening pops. His hand contorts toward the palm reader. Then, as quickly as they entered him, the shadows spill from his mouth, nostrils, ears. The reader goes untouched.
BAH! THIS ONE IS NO GOOD.
He spirals around you next, blocks your vision with onyx. Tik. Tik. Tik. Tik. Tik. The sound overwhelms you.
I WILL FIND MY WAY IN.
A whoosh of crackling wings and He's out of sight, passing like a specter through the corridor floor. A chill hangs after. The lights stay off.
Solomon backs into a corner. Stares at you with wild eyes. "What was that thing? An alien? No. You were talking to it!"
You sigh.
"It's called a Tiktik. It's a malevolent spirit." This was never easy. And it rarely went well. Last time you did this, you were divorced a month later. "It's named for that sound it makes when it's hunting."
"It's hunting? Us?"
"No..." You sigh again. "Tiktiks feed on unborn babies. Their blood."
"Why?"
"I have no idea." You have long accepted there is no rationalizing the nature of ancient beings. "Because that's how the legend goes."
"What is one doing on the ship?"
"We're bonded. It's not normal for them to latch onto someone. But something went very wrong when I was born." No one ever gave you a full explanation.
"Why would you come here? To help him?"
"Of course not!" you exclaim. But you know he's right to accuse you.
"We have thousands of embryos on board!"
"I know!" you scream. "But I was told... I thought that if I left Earth, he'd stay behind. Joining the Proliferate program was supposed to set me free." Tears well in your eyes.
Solomon pulls out an ornate, hand-carved cross. It was hidden among the tools he carries. He mutters a quick prayer in a language you don't recognize. "I have to warn the captain," he says.
Your heart drops. You try to explain, "Solomon, she won't understand."
He ignores you. Springs himself from the wall. Prays as he drifts.
You follow. "At least let me do the talking."
Handicapped by his prayers, Solomon moves with only three free limbs as one clutches his flashlight and the cross. You catch up a few yards from the bridge. Get a hold of his sleeve.
"Solomon, please."
He stares back. You see he fears you. "Fine."
"I'm on your side. Believe me."
He wants to. He pauses. "I do."
You force reassurance across your face. "I'll talk to Pilar. You activate the plasma shield for the bridge. That'll keep Him off us for now."
Solomon nods. Places his hand on a palm reader. The crosshatched doors slice open. You float your way through.
On the bridge stand Pilar and Lee. Both in grav boots. Both armed. Pilar's hunched over the captain's station. A laser pistol rests on her hip. Lee's blue in the face, clenching his stomach, grimacing. His other hand white-knuckles a compact rifle. The expanse of the universe is laid out wide beyond them, on the other side of a massive forward porthole.
"There you are," Pilar says. She doesn't look up from whatever she's doing. "We're at a six-hour comms delay with Titan Station. Basically, we're on our own." She approaches her floating crewmates, magnetic boots clanking. "So what do you have to say for yourself, Doc?"
You ignore the accusation. Point at Lee. "What's wrong with him?"
"Bad case of stasis hangover," Pilar explains. "Pssh. A lot of good this grunt is, huh?"
You reach for your medkit. "I can help him," you say.
"Let's not get distracted," she says. "Answer the question."
"Pilar..."
"Don't play dumb." She pulls a handful of your belongings from her pocket. Items you packed just in case. A beaded rosary. Pages torn from a bible. Tiny, colorful candles - They were manufactured for birthday cakes but you use them for rituals. "Is this occult shit?"
"You went through my stuff?"
"Don't act so offended. You've been acting weird as all hell. Now what is this?"
"It's not occult. It's Catholic."
"Same shit. Why do you have it?"
"The plasma shield is up," Solomon interrupts.
"I didn't tell you to do that." Pilar turns on him. "And what the fuck are you holding?" She stomps over. Like a kid caught with stolen candy, Solomon offers up the cross. Pilar snatches it, yells, "Did you two kill Regina for some satanic ritual?" The religious artifacts in one hand, Pilar aims the gun at you with the other.
"Pilar, please!" you beg. "We're not satanists. I can explain."
"Alright. Out with it."
"I know who killed Regina. And the baby. It wasn't us. There's something - someone else on board."
"I checked the CCTV. There's no one else here."
"He doesn't show up on camera."
"He doesn't show up?" Pilar lifts an eyebrow, unbelieving. "Who is he?"
"A demon," Solomon says plainly.
"Solomon!" you groan. This is why you wanted to do the talking.
Pilar looks like she's going to be sick. "This is insane," she murmurs. Then she's screaming. "Are you two serious? A fucking demon? Have you lost your minds?" She drops the gun. Shoves Lee aside. Opens a small hatch in the wall. "I won't allow this hysteric crap on my ship."
She forces your rosary, the bible pages, and the candles in the hole. She snaps Solomon's cross in half. Shoves it in too. Slams the thing shut.
"Pilar, no! We need those!" You try to stop her. Don't reach her in time.
She punches a button next to the hatch, sucking the contents into a garbage chute. The system will incinerate the contraband before ejecting the ashes into space. You keep floating closer and Pilar raises her pistol at you.
"Back off."
"Damn it, Pilar!" You curl over. Moan in despair. You stop when Lee slams you against the wall, knocks the wind from your chest.
"About time," Pilar spits at him.
"Sorry, cap'n." He presses his weight against yours. Holds you in position with the torque of his boots, his soldier's build. "Took a freakshow to shake the hangover, I guess."
"You need to listen to me!" You plead. Squirm. "You're all in danger." Lee cups a hand over your mouth. Muffles the rest.
The lights go out in this room too. Pilar looks up. She's colored faintly by the control panels glowing on the bridge. "Spooky," she says, unphased. "Solomon, cut the theatrics. Story time's over."
"It's not me, captain."
"Hachi. What gives with the power?"
The AI is silent. He has been for some time.
"Screw this." Pilar moves for the exit. "Lee, put the doctor in a holding cell. Solomon, we're headed for the engineering deck. I want to know what's got Hachi and the lights out of whack."
"Yes, cap'n," Lee assents.
"Drop the shield, Solomon."
Even in the half-dark, the dread on his face is visible. "I... don't think that's a good idea, captain."
Tik. Tik. Tik.
"That's an order!"
Tiktik. Tiktik.
Pilar raises her weapon. "Solomon!"
"Fine!"
You wrestle your lips free. "Don't!"
He's already tapping at keys. The subtle hum of the plasma shield fades into nothing. The exit opens to let Pilar through.
"You coming?" she asks. Solomon stays afloat by the controls. She groans. "Have it your way. I'll do it myself."
Tik. Tiktik. Tik. Tiktik.
"What the hell is that?" she mutters, staring into the corridor.
The lights are still out. Something blacker than black lurks in the shadows. Without warning, it hurtles at her. She raises her pistol. Fires off three ray blasts. Three strobes of viridescent light.
They illuminate Him in a level of detail even you've rarely seen. Manged plumage. Putrid flesh. A hundred crooked beaks.
Pilar screams.
Lee releases you to draw his own weapon.
"Throw the shield up!" you shriek.
You float your way toward Solomon. See he's too scared to take orders. The others watch horrified as the ebony, whirling entity engulfs Pilar. It implodes. Enters her.
Solomon's cross had forced Him out before. But Pilar doesn't stand a chance.
"NOW THIS IS A PERFECTLY SINFUL VESSEL. IT'S BEEN SOME TIME SINCE I'VE HAD ONE LIKE IT."
Two voices echo from Pilar. One her own. The other something else entirely. Inhuman. Perverse. It's the first time the others are able to hear Him speak.
"Let her go!" you demand.
"WHEN WILL YOU LEARN IT IS I WHO DECIDES WHAT WE DO?"
"You've never controlled me!"
Pilar's body only laughs.
Lee raises his rifle at the possessed captain. "What the f-"
Her body fires first. Fries a hole straight through Lee's head. The zero-G and magnetic boots keep him standing in place. Dead but upright. Crimson droplets leak into the air, trailing after his rifle as it floats your way.
"ALLOW ME TO EAT." Pilar's possessed arm turns its weapon on Solomon. "OR THIS ONE IS NEXT."
You lunge for Lee's wayward gun. Manage to catch it. Aim it at Pilar.
"I can't let you," you say. "I won't be the reason this mission fails."
"THE COLONY WAS DOOMED WHEN YOU BOARDED THIS SHIP."
You know he's right. You cock the rifle.
"SHOOTING ME KILLS HER. YOU WOULDN'T DARE."
"Watch me," you bluff.
He shakes Pilar's head. Smiles. He doesn't believe you. The body steps forward. Each clank of the grav boots brings that diabolical grin a bit closer.
Tik. Tik. Tik. Tik. Tik. Tik. Tik.
But it's your turn to smile.
"WHAT? WHAT IS IT?"
He turns Pilar's body too late. Solomon is already swinging his flashlight over her head. He bashes her in the temple and she too is left float-standing there in her grav boots. Unconscious. And so is He.
"That - That worked?" Solomon stutters.
You let out a relieved sigh. Wipe perspiration from your hairline.
"He's most vulnerable when he's inside someone," you explain - you've gotten the upper hand on Him this way before. "And as long as Pilar's knocked out, He can't escape."
You float over to check her. Make sure there's a pulse. Keep Lee's rifle at the ready. Just to be safe.
"How long will she be out for?" asks Solomon.
"I don't know," you admit. Even a doctor can't be certain when the damned are involved. "But we shouldn't wait long."
"For what?"
"To do something," you say.
Solomon catches a change in your voice. A confidence you lacked a moment before. You feel it too. You hadn't meant to express it.
"Doctor," he says. "I'm with you on this. Whatever we have to do."
"I know," you say. "I'm sorry." And you really are.
You shoot him once in the chest. Twice more for good measure. Without boots to ground you, the counterforce throws you back with each shot.
Your back slams into the wall, forcing you to face the chaos you sowed. Solomon, dead. Lee, dead. Coagulated hemoglobin emanates from both men, swirling aimlessly through the room. Pilar is still unconscious in the middle of it all. Her feet glued to the floor, she sways side to side like a sleepwalker.
You scream until it hurts.
It takes some time, but you manage to get Pilar into her stasis pod all on your own. It would have been nice to have Solomon's help, but you took the shot while you had it. You drag his body next, then Lee's, to join Pilar in her quarters. You bracket her pod with the two men on the floor. Make sure she's still breathing. Lock the door.
You shower off the blood of your comrades. Raspberry streaks down your legs. Turn Hachi back on, who declares you the captain. Blindly, he follows the line of succession he was programmed to take.
You head to the bridge. Have Hachi eject Pilar's quarters from the ship. You watch the launch. Stare vigilantly until the capsule is another speck of dust in infinity.
You listen for ticks. Clicks. Taunts in your head.
Hear nothing.
You cry a bit. Feel guilt. Feel relief. In that captain's chair that you do not deserve.
Hachi observes you in his omnipotent way. You order him to scrub the CCTV footage from the last few hours.
"For the dignity of those lost," you record into a log. "I have erased all recordings of the mutiny led by Pilar Del Rey." You pin the blame on her because you liked her the least. "When we reach Juarez and establish the colony," you continue. "We won't look back at this stain on our mission."
You get in your own stasis pod again. Have Hachi lull you into cryogenic sleep. Dream about Lola. And that tropical island you're from.
When you open your eyes next, there's no vast darkness outside your room's porthole. There's the warm glow of colonial daylight. A taste of the sun. Or whatever it's called on this new planet you're on.
"Captain! Wake up!" someone new calls. And there's something else too.
Tik. Tik. Tik.
You're hearing it again.
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You're hearing it again.
"Doctor!"
You can barely see. Your eyes are slow to recover from years closed in cryogenic slumber. Over you stands a dark figure. Blurred. Familiar in the worst way.
"Doctor! Wake up!"
Your vision sharpens. It's Solomon, chief engineer for the Proliferate 8. You mistook his silhouette for shadows. For Him. But that noise!
Tik. Tik.
You shoot up. Immediately you're assaulted with the nauseating sensation of vertigo. You twist over the edge of your stasis pod. Retch. Groan. Solomon rubs your back. Catches sweet, milky discharge in a receptacle.
"It's alright, doctor. Only a bit of cryostasis hangover."
You know that. You're the doctor.
Tiktik. Tiktik.
"Do you hear that clicking?" you ask him.
"What?"
"Nevermind." Wipe a forearm across your mouth.
"Finally! You're up!" Pilar, the ship's navigator, storms into your quarters. The steelwork box feels cramped with the three of you. "We're in some serious shit. Can you walk?"
"Hold on." Swing your legs out from the pod. The anti-atrophy stockings you slept in keep your feet warm against the ship's cool, sterile floor. The spins pass. Standing feels natural again. "What's going on?"
"It's bad. The captain -" Pilar begins.
The ship's AI cuts her off. "Now that you are awake, doctor, I will brief you on the situation." Hachi's voice is upbeat. Metallic. Ubiquitous throughout the ship.
Pilar rolls her eyes but lets him talk. You smirk at her irritation. Open your closet. Get dressed in that same smooth, indigo uniform as the others.
"It is Year 4, Day 139 of the Proliferate 8's journey to establish Colony Juarez."
You shake out your hair - it kept growing all these years - and tie it back. Sip post-stasis recovery fluid from a squirt bottle. Self-administer a dose of similarly purposed chemicals with an auto-injectable from your medkit.
"I have enacted Emergency Protocol Delta: Awake the ship's executive panel should a death occur in transit. In the event that -"
"Get on with it, Hachi!" Pilar yells at the ceiling.
"Fine," Hachi says. He sounds convincingly offended. "My vital sensors indicate Captain Meer has expired."
You gasp. "What?"
"I recommend the doctor promptly verify my assessment."
The cabin door whooshes open as Pilar steps into the hall. "Come on."
You grab your medkit on the way out. Solomon follows.
The concave floor of the ever-rotating gravity ring you reside in gives the illusion of walking uphill. But outside the portholes, the infinite stars and the unsettlingly shrunken sun remind you where you are. An unfathomable distance from home.
You reach the captain's quarters. Hear it again.
Tik. Tik. Tik.
Whip your head back. Startle Solomon. Look past him. Nothing. A row of can lights flicker in quick succession, but that's nothing unusual.
"Doc," Pilar says. "Focus."
"Sorry. Still foggy," you apologize. Pat Solomon on the chest.
Double doors slide open and Pilar ushers you through. Solomon opts to stay back.
"I already checked her," Pilar tells you. "But you're the pro."
Across from you lies Captain Regina Meer, dressed in the same anti-atrophy garments you just woke up in. But Regina doesn't look asleep in that glowing cradle. She's pale, icy. The readings on the monitor above her bed have all flatlined.
You step up. Open the bubble glass of the pod. Gas exchanges with a hiss as you withdraw a stethoscope. Its buds fill your ears. You touch the diaphragm to the woman's chest. Place two fingers to her throat. You've made this call a hundred times. This one hits hardest.
You call it. "She's dead."
"And the baby?" Pilar asks.
As a human propagation mission, it was almost poetic to have a qualified, pregnant captain lead the voyage. But things have turned downright macabre. You move the stethoscope atop Regina's swollen belly. Confirm with your scanner.
This can't be happening. The priest had assured you.
"Gone too."
Pilar tries to comfort you but you wave her off. Sniffle. Grab an empty syringe. Hunch over the captain. Find a vein. Prick. No blood fills the vial. Like you feared.
He's here.
THAT'S RIGHT. IT'S BEEN A WHILE. HASN'T IT?
There's an unholy darkness in the corner of the room. You turn to face it. Gone. You wonder where. He answers.
TO FIND MORE.
"What's up?" Pilar asks.
"There's..." You struggle to steady yourself. "There's no blood."
"What?"
"Regina doesn't have any blood in her veins. Neither does the baby."
Pilar stares back blankly. "How is that possible?"
Shake your head. You know. You can't explain it to her.
"Hachi," Pilar commands. "When did you detect the captain's death?"
"A medical doctor has confirmed the death of Regina Meer. As the former first mate, you are the captain now, Captain Del Rey."
"Shut up and answer me!"
"I'm afraid I don't understand. Shut up? Or answer?"
"Answer! And rollback AI personality function by ninety percent."
"Yes, captain." Hachi's voice is instantly less animated. "Regina Meer's death was recorded 48 minutes ago."
Pilar turns your way. "How does all her blood disappear less than an hour after she's dead?"
BECAUSE I EAT FASTER THAN THAT.
Your long sleep weakened your hold on Him. You need to reel Him back without alarming the others. Alone. You gesture at the cryostasis fluid tubes still mainlining what's left of Regina.
"Maybe something malfunctioned with her life support? Have Solomon check it out."
The doors reopen as you pass Pilar. "Wait. How about an autopsy?" she asks.
"No blood. Check the tubes. That's what I got for now."
As long as the new captain doesn't order it directly, you can put off the autopsy. You pass Solomon, his face pressed on the porthole across the hall, taking in the weight of that infinite, black void.
"Solomon, can you check the fluid system on Regina's pod?"
"Sure." He straightens up. "Where're you going?"
"The fetal cryochamber. I'll be right back."
THERE ARE OTHERS. GOOD.
He's hungry after four and a half years. Your minds are tethered, but He usually doesn't listen so closely. Your bond isn't so strong that He can track your every movement, but He never strays far. Better be quick.
You reach the ladder to the ship's main hull. Ascend the narrow passage it traverses until mechanically generated gravity gives way to the zero-G of the ship's rotationally static core. Floating in the central corridor, you pull yourself along railings and footholds toward the back of the ship. You wonder if you compromised everything.
You were wrong after all. He isn't bound to Earth.
THAT'S RIGHT. I AM BOUND ONLY TO YOU. ALWAYS.
At that, you stop moving. Grasp a pipe with one hand. Bury your face in the other. Weep. The priest assured you that you'd be free off-planet. You should have listened to your grandmother - Lola had no faith the bond could be severed.
A shaman once told your parents the curse would break if you left the Philippines. Lola said it wouldn't be so easy. She was right. He followed you to the States. How come you thought this would be different?
"Doc?" You wipe your eyes. Find Solomon before you. "You alright?"
"I'm fine. It's a lot. That's all."
Liar.
"Yes." He nods. "I'm pretty shaken too."
You're not listening. You're watching a mess of darkness and feathers and wings dash across the hall at the front of the ship. His filthy appendages contrast starkly with the sleek, sterile interior of the vessel. The hall lights go out and everything becomes as obscured as Him.
"I better go," you say. Start moving again. Guide your way with the tiny flashlight you pull from your medkit. "Can you check what's going on with the circuits? The dark won't make this any easier."
"I'm right behind you," Solomon says. He pulls a larger, heavier torch from the mech-belt that hangs loosely from his waist. "The breakers are past the cryochamber."
Just your luck. You want privacy. Once you confirm the specimens are safe, you can pray Him back into docility. But with Solomon here...
"Solomon, do you believe in spirits?" you ask. "You know, souls, ghosts, that sort of thing?"
He hesitates. A faith-charged civil war compromised the Proliferate 3. Since then, missions filter strictly for superstition-averse and non-religious candidates. The screening could be outsmarted though. You did it. You can't be the only one.
"I have faith in certain things," he answers vaguely. "I guess spirits are part of it."
You nod. "And evil ones?"
"Demons?"
"In the Philippines we called them aswang. Sure."
"Then yes. I believe in aswang..." The talk unnerves him. He cuts his flashlight beam through the darkness more methodically now. "Please don't tell the captain."
"Trust me. I won't." You know this sort of banter is mutiny. "What's she up to anyway?"
"She pulled Lee from stasis."
"Lee Calhoun? From security?"
"Yes. They're reviewing security footage. Pilar suspects foul play."
"Foul play? By who?"
"A stowaway maybe?"
"Undetected by Hachi for years? I can't imagine -" You realize where you are. "Hold on."
The door to the fetal cryochamber looks like any other on the ship - a steel barricade with a single slot window. A soft blue glow shimmers through the narrow opening. Illuminates you and Solomon like aquarium patrons. You stow your flashlight and peek through. Find everything on the other side in order. Thousands of frozen pre-humans stacked and shelved across the glass, set for staggered development once you break ground on the colony. The freezers housing them look unscathed. You tap the monitor by the door. All readings normal.
He hasn't been here.
"Going in?" Solomon asks you.
"No." Shake your head. "The barrier wasn't breached. Let's leave it that way."
A palm reader by the monitor will do the opposite. You stay far from it.
Tiktik. Tiktik. Tiktik.
"What is that?"
"Solomon!"
Flapping wings. Spiraling shadows. A blur of feathers and claws. The mass emerges from obscurity and passes straight through Solomon. The man yells at the otherworldly sensation. A tormenting chill he has never experienced before.
HERE THEY ARE!
The humanoid darkness slams into the door, but doesn't pass through as expected. Tik, tik, tik, He goes, scuttling around the seal, looking for a way in. You're surprised. This sort of thing normally wouldn't hold Him back.
Your lips crest at this small triumph. An invisible plasma shield encapsulates the cryochamber. Protecting the unborn humans from cosmic radiation, it appears to have the same effect on Him. Getting a physicist and a demonologist together to explain why will always be beyond your means.
LET ME IN.
You address Him for the first time since waking. "You can't have them!" you yell.
Terrified, Solomon braves a swing of his flashlight. It slips through the shadows.
THEN HE WILL HELP ME.
"No!"
The shadows engulf Solomon, then suck into his chest like a collapsing star.
"AaaAAahH!"
"Solomon!" you scream.
Though He haunts your mind, an unspoken technicality of your pact keeps Him from controlling your physical body. The people you surround yourself with are not so lucky.
You watch Solomon's eyes roll back, his posture go rigid. Joints snap with sickening pops. His hand contorts toward the palm reader. Then, as quickly as they entered him, the shadows spill from his mouth, nostrils, ears. The reader goes untouched.
BAH! THIS ONE IS NO GOOD.
He spirals around you next, blocks your vision with onyx. Tik. Tik. Tik. Tik. Tik. The sound overwhelms you.
I WILL FIND MY WAY IN.
A whoosh of crackling wings and He's out of sight, passing like a specter through the corridor floor. A chill hangs after. The lights stay off.
Solomon backs into a corner. Stares at you with wild eyes. "What was that thing? An alien? No. You were talking to it!"
You sigh.
"It's called a Tiktik. It's a malevolent spirit." This was never easy. And it rarely went well. Last time you did this, you were divorced a month later. "It's named for that sound it makes when it's hunting."
"It's hunting? Us?"
"No..." You sigh again. "Tiktiks feed on unborn babies. Their blood."
"Why?"
"I have no idea." You have long accepted there is no rationalizing the nature of ancient beings. "Because that's how the legend goes."
"What is one doing on the ship?"
"We're bonded. It's not normal for them to latch onto someone. But something went very wrong when I was born." No one ever gave you a full explanation.
"Why would you come here? To help him?"
"Of course not!" you exclaim. But you know he's right to accuse you.
"We have thousands of embryos on board!"
"I know!" you scream. "But I was told... I thought that if I left Earth, he'd stay behind. Joining the Proliferate program was supposed to set me free." Tears well in your eyes.
Solomon pulls out an ornate, hand-carved cross. It was hidden among the tools he carries. He mutters a quick prayer in a language you don't recognize. "I have to warn the captain," he says.
Your heart drops. You try to explain, "Solomon, she won't understand."
He ignores you. Springs himself from the wall. Prays as he drifts.
You follow. "At least let me do the talking."
Handicapped by his prayers, Solomon moves with only three free limbs as one clutches his flashlight and the cross. You catch up a few yards from the bridge. Get a hold of his sleeve.
"Solomon, please."
He stares back. You see he fears you. "Fine."
"I'm on your side. Believe me."
He wants to. He pauses. "I do."
You force reassurance across your face. "I'll talk to Pilar. You activate the plasma shield for the bridge. That'll keep Him off us for now."
Solomon nods. Places his hand on a palm reader. The crosshatched doors slice open. You float your way through.
On the bridge stand Pilar and Lee. Both in grav boots. Both armed. Pilar's hunched over the captain's station. A laser pistol rests on her hip. Lee's blue in the face, clenching his stomach, grimacing. His other hand white-knuckles a compact rifle. The expanse of the universe is laid out wide beyond them, on the other side of a massive forward porthole.
"There you are," Pilar says. She doesn't look up from whatever she's doing. "We're at a six-hour comms delay with Titan Station. Basically, we're on our own." She approaches her floating crewmates, magnetic boots clanking. "So what do you have to say for yourself, Doc?"
You ignore the accusation. Point at Lee. "What's wrong with him?"
"Bad case of stasis hangover," Pilar explains. "Pssh. A lot of good this grunt is, huh?"
You reach for your medkit. "I can help him," you say.
"Let's not get distracted," she says. "Answer the question."
"Pilar..."
"Don't play dumb." She pulls a handful of your belongings from her pocket. Items you packed just in case. A beaded rosary. Pages torn from a bible. Tiny, colorful candles - They were manufactured for birthday cakes but you use them for rituals. "Is this occult shit?"
"You went through my stuff?"
"Don't act so offended. You've been acting weird as all hell. Now what is this?"
"It's not occult. It's Catholic."
"Same shit. Why do you have it?"
"The plasma shield is up," Solomon interrupts.
"I didn't tell you to do that." Pilar turns on him. "And what the fuck are you holding?" She stomps over. Like a kid caught with stolen candy, Solomon offers up the cross. Pilar snatches it, yells, "Did you two kill Regina for some satanic ritual?" The religious artifacts in one hand, Pilar aims the gun at you with the other.
"Pilar, please!" you beg. "We're not satanists. I can explain."
"Alright. Out with it."
"I know who killed Regina. And the baby. It wasn't us. There's something - someone else on board."
"I checked the CCTV. There's no one else here."
"He doesn't show up on camera."
"He doesn't show up?" Pilar lifts an eyebrow, unbelieving. "Who is he?"
"A demon," Solomon says plainly.
"Solomon!" you groan. This is why you wanted to do the talking.
Pilar looks like she's going to be sick. "This is insane," she murmurs. Then she's screaming. "Are you two serious? A fucking demon? Have you lost your minds?" She drops the gun. Shoves Lee aside. Opens a small hatch in the wall. "I won't allow this hysteric crap on my ship."
She forces your rosary, the bible pages, and the candles in the hole. She snaps Solomon's cross in half. Shoves it in too. Slams the thing shut.
"Pilar, no! We need those!" You try to stop her. Don't reach her in time.
She punches a button next to the hatch, sucking the contents into a garbage chute. The system will incinerate the contraband before ejecting the ashes into space. You keep floating closer and Pilar raises her pistol at you.
"Back off."
"Damn it, Pilar!" You curl over. Moan in despair. You stop when Lee slams you against the wall, knocks the wind from your chest.
"About time," Pilar spits at him.
"Sorry, cap'n." He presses his weight against yours. Holds you in position with the torque of his boots, his soldier's build. "Took a freakshow to shake the hangover, I guess."
"You need to listen to me!" You plead. Squirm. "You're all in danger." Lee cups a hand over your mouth. Muffles the rest.
The lights go out in this room too. Pilar looks up. She's colored faintly by the control panels glowing on the bridge. "Spooky," she says, unphased. "Solomon, cut the theatrics. Story time's over."
"It's not me, captain."
"Hachi. What gives with the power?"
The AI is silent. He has been for some time.
"Screw this." Pilar moves for the exit. "Lee, put the doctor in a holding cell. Solomon, we're headed for the engineering deck. I want to know what's got Hachi and the lights out of whack."
"Yes, cap'n," Lee assents.
"Drop the shield, Solomon."
Even in the half-dark, the dread on his face is visible. "I... don't think that's a good idea, captain."
Tik. Tik. Tik.
"That's an order!"
Tiktik. Tiktik.
Pilar raises her weapon. "Solomon!"
"Fine!"
You wrestle your lips free. "Don't!"
He's already tapping at keys. The subtle hum of the plasma shield fades into nothing. The exit opens to let Pilar through.
"You coming?" she asks. Solomon stays afloat by the controls. She groans. "Have it your way. I'll do it myself."
Tik. Tiktik. Tik. Tiktik.
"What the hell is that?" she mutters, staring into the corridor.
The lights are still out. Something blacker than black lurks in the shadows. Without warning, it hurtles at her. She raises her pistol. Fires off three ray blasts. Three strobes of viridescent light.
They illuminate Him in a level of detail even you've rarely seen. Manged plumage. Putrid flesh. A hundred crooked beaks.
Pilar screams.
Lee releases you to draw his own weapon.
"Throw the shield up!" you shriek.
You float your way toward Solomon. See he's too scared to take orders. The others watch horrified as the ebony, whirling entity engulfs Pilar. It implodes. Enters her.
Solomon's cross had forced Him out before. But Pilar doesn't stand a chance.
"NOW THIS IS A PERFECTLY SINFUL VESSEL. IT'S BEEN SOME TIME SINCE I'VE HAD ONE LIKE IT."
Two voices echo from Pilar. One her own. The other something else entirely. Inhuman. Perverse. It's the first time the others are able to hear Him speak.
"Let her go!" you demand.
"WHEN WILL YOU LEARN IT IS I WHO DECIDES WHAT WE DO?"
"You've never controlled me!"
Pilar's body only laughs.
Lee raises his rifle at the possessed captain. "What the f-"
Her body fires first. Fries a hole straight through Lee's head. The zero-G and magnetic boots keep him standing in place. Dead but upright. Crimson droplets leak into the air, trailing after his rifle as it floats your way.
"ALLOW ME TO EAT." Pilar's possessed arm turns its weapon on Solomon. "OR THIS ONE IS NEXT."
You lunge for Lee's wayward gun. Manage to catch it. Aim it at Pilar.
"I can't let you," you say. "I won't be the reason this mission fails."
"THE COLONY WAS DOOMED WHEN YOU BOARDED THIS SHIP."
You know he's right. You cock the rifle.
"SHOOTING ME KILLS HER. YOU WOULDN'T DARE."
"Watch me," you bluff.
He shakes Pilar's head. Smiles. He doesn't believe you. The body steps forward. Each clank of the grav boots brings that diabolical grin a bit closer.
Tik. Tik. Tik. Tik. Tik. Tik. Tik.
But it's your turn to smile.
"WHAT? WHAT IS IT?"
He turns Pilar's body too late. Solomon is already swinging his flashlight over her head. He bashes her in the temple and she too is left float-standing there in her grav boots. Unconscious. And so is He.
"That - That worked?" Solomon stutters.
You let out a relieved sigh. Wipe perspiration from your hairline.
"He's most vulnerable when he's inside someone," you explain - you've gotten the upper hand on Him this way before. "And as long as Pilar's knocked out, He can't escape."
You float over to check her. Make sure there's a pulse. Keep Lee's rifle at the ready. Just to be safe.
"How long will she be out for?" asks Solomon.
"I don't know," you admit. Even a doctor can't be certain when the damned are involved. "But we shouldn't wait long."
"For what?"
"To do something," you say.
Solomon catches a change in your voice. A confidence you lacked a moment before. You feel it too. You hadn't meant to express it.
"Doctor," he says. "I'm with you on this. Whatever we have to do."
"I know," you say. "I'm sorry." And you really are.
You shoot him once in the chest. Twice more for good measure. Without boots to ground you, the counterforce throws you back with each shot.
Your back slams into the wall, forcing you to face the chaos you sowed. Solomon, dead. Lee, dead. Coagulated hemoglobin emanates from both men, swirling aimlessly through the room. Pilar is still unconscious in the middle of it all. Her feet glued to the floor, she sways side to side like a sleepwalker.
You scream until it hurts.
It takes some time, but you manage to get Pilar into her stasis pod all on your own. It would have been nice to have Solomon's help, but you took the shot while you had it. You drag his body next, then Lee's, to join Pilar in her quarters. You bracket her pod with the two men on the floor. Make sure she's still breathing. Lock the door.
You shower off the blood of your comrades. Raspberry streaks down your legs. Turn Hachi back on, who declares you the captain. Blindly, he follows the line of succession he was programmed to take.
You head to the bridge. Have Hachi eject Pilar's quarters from the ship. You watch the launch. Stare vigilantly until the capsule is another speck of dust in infinity.
You listen for ticks. Clicks. Taunts in your head.
Hear nothing.
You cry a bit. Feel guilt. Feel relief. In that captain's chair that you do not deserve.
Hachi observes you in his omnipotent way. You order him to scrub the CCTV footage from the last few hours.
"For the dignity of those lost," you record into a log. "I have erased all recordings of the mutiny led by Pilar Del Rey." You pin the blame on her because you liked her the least. "When we reach Juarez and establish the colony," you continue. "We won't look back at this stain on our mission."
You get in your own stasis pod again. Have Hachi lull you into cryogenic sleep. Dream about Lola. And that tropical island you're from.
When you open your eyes next, there's no vast darkness outside your room's porthole. There's the warm glow of colonial daylight. A taste of the sun. Or whatever it's called on this new planet you're on.
"Captain! Wake up!" someone new calls. And there's something else too.
Tik. Tik. Tik.
You're hearing it again.
from FICTION on the WEB short stories https://ift.tt/xzSov5w
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