EPISODE ONE
The ball of frozen rock barely deserved the title of planet, two things alone distinguishing this one from others of it’s kind. The first, an oxygen/nitrogen atmosphere, making it habitable, if not hospitable.
The second was a building, a perfectly smooth, dark green hemisphere that contrasted starkly with the grey and white surroundings.
Both had remained untouched for millennia.
Until, one day, someone came looking for the secret that small world held.
Outside the reach of the white stars gravity space was being bent, twisted and, finally, ripped open. The darkness was lit bright, scintillating puce, grey and orange
as a small vessel plunged through the rip back into real space. "Status!" Captain Yu demanded as he threw his ship into sudden deceleration, slowing her from near-C velocities. The other three members of the flight crew answered in practiced routine.
"Warp aperture closing. Estimate eight hours till the warp motivator recharges."
"This system matches specs. I’ll have confirmation in... two minutes."
"ECM is up. Shields still out. Auto-repair says ten hours minimum, but both guns are back on line."
"Okay people, silent running. I want to know if that bastard followed us. Janey, Reed, go get some sleep."
"Aye, Cap’n." Reed drawled as the two dragged themselves from their stations and floated aft.
Yu rubbed his eyes and started to wonder who had attacked them before the last jump. He didn’t know enough about he mission to give it a good guess. "Just let her drift, Rony. Leave life support and passive sensors running and pretend we’re a rock.
Call me in four hours and I’ll relieve you."
"You going to bed?" the First Mate asked as Yu levered himself out of the seat.
"Not if our passengers have anything to say about it."
Life! It felt life! Far away, but coming closer. Not near enough to wake it from it’s slumber, not yet, just close enough to stir it’s dreams, to make it’s heart beat a little faster.
"But...we must make planetfall as soon as possible! It’s imperative!" Dr. Whitby was yelling loud enough to give Yu a headache. He didn’t like Whitby, who was the kind of person who muttered to himself and who’s eyes never quite seemed to focus
properly, but Yu tried not to lose his temper, tried to be reasonable.
"Doctor, for your own safety..."
"Damn it man, have you no idea what it is down there?"
"Doctor!" It was Morton who cut in. Yu didn’t like Morton either, but he respected the man. "The Captain is not privy to that information. Nor, I can assure you, would he want to be." Pure common sense in this line of work, thought Yu. "The planet has been here for some considerable amount of time," Morton continued as if to a stubborn child. "and it’ll still be there in a couple of days." Whitby calmed down and floated back to his chair.
Yu turned to Morton in amazement. "How did you do that?"
"Practice. Did you manage to I.D. the bandit?"
"No, but I’d swear it was American."
"Why?"
"The way she moved, her captain’s reaction to what we did. Call it instinct."
"Good enough." Morton had a fair dose of professional respect for Yu as well. "Do you think they followed us?"
"If they got a lock on our course, yes. That’s why I’m drifting us."
Morton nodded. "You should get some sleep Captain. I’ll keep my charges off your back."
"Thanks."
The tiny point of warmth disturbed it’s sleep, made the cold that much more bitter.
It turned in it’s bed of ice, wanting the life to go away, wanted it to come closer, close enough to touch.
Yu had let his ship drift for three days while they waited for their attacker to turn up.
It hadn’t, and now they were orbiting the system’s only planet. Whitby and Morton was on the bridge, intently watching the visual as it displayed ice, ice, and more ice.
"What sort of thing are we looking for here, Doctor?" Yu ventured.
"A large structure, possibly a pyramid or ziggurat." Whitby seemed fairly stable for
the moment, so Yu swallowed the question about rein deer and gingerbread houses.
"It’ll take a while to cover the whole surface. You’d be more comfortable in the galley."
"No thank you Captain, I’ll just wait here."
Thirty minutes later Whitby’s waiting was over. "Astounding!" he exclaimed. "I never expected anything like this. I wonder why they chose this shape..." Once started Whitby muttered and scribbled in frenetic contentment.
To Yu the object on the surface looked like a jade tennis ball half-imbedded in the ice. "I don’t want to know." he said to himself.
It was awake now, straining to rise, to touch the lives that were so tantalizingly near. But it was to weak, and the ties that had held it for so long flared in response to it’s
struggles, throwing it back down.
It could not move.
But it could wait.
And hope.
The ship made planetfall six kilometres from the dome. Morton and three ‘specialists’ were the first out, their ghost suit nearly invisible as they roamed over the ice, making sure it didn’t hold any nasty surprises. When Morton called back to announce the discovery of a subsurface access, Yu wasn’t surprised; he had this feeling they’d known where to find it before they went looking.
Whitby and his assistants soon followed Morton with a sled full of equipment.
"What does it say, Doctor?" Morton asked, staring over Whitby’s shoulder.
"It’s as I discovered it in the Archives; ‘Here lies Blah-Blah, Ever and Always,
Body and Soul.’ Strange thing though, while most of it’s in the Precursor script,
the name is in something I’ve never seen before. Amazing!" He turned to one of his assistants "Get stills of this as well."
"Can you open it?" Morton asked, returning to the point.
Whitby stared at the door for a moment. "Oh yes, should be easy enough. The wards would have been stronger here when our host was laid to rest, but that rate of decline would also have been higher than that in the surrounding wards. So if my calculations are correct, and I am in no doubt that they are, then the wards sealing this door should be operating at as much as 30% lower efficiency than those protecting the rest of the sphere."
"Thank you for the lecture Doctor." The sarcasm dripping off Morton’s voice went over Whitby’s head. "Now how are you going to open the door for us?"
"Oh, blow it in with a large amount of high explosives I should think." Whitby stared into space for a moment. "Pity to have to loose this, but time is of the essence, ey?"
Their thoughts were close enough to touch, almost, close enough to make the hunger burn in it’s heart. Then they moved away, and a sense of foreboding filled it, followed by a rending, white hot pain as something was torn away from it.
The outer wards had been scattered, destroyed! It was only held by a string, and soon that string would snap as well.
Morton took the room in with a glance, all green and jade-like with the occasional symbol carved into the walls, ceiling or floor. And not a corner or straight edge
anywhere. Even the sarcophagus, he assumed that’s what it was, rose smoothly out of the floor.
He was watching Whitby and his assistants draw lines and markings on the floor surrounding the sarcophagus, and could here Whitby muttering to himself in what sounded like Latin, he couldn’t be sure. The whole scene reminded him of the horror vids he had watched as a kid, and he gazed on in vague amusement until a voice came over his comm "Chief, the Captain wants to talk to you. There’s a storm moving in and comm’s going to go down in about ten minutes."
"Okay, I’m on my way." He answered and, taking one final look at the doctor and his people, stepped down the tunnel.
They were so close now it could feel the heat of their breath, taste the life beating through them. Nearby it could feel others, new lives, but they were of no concern with these sweet, painful lights so close.
The walk back down the tunnel took a few minutes, and when Morton stepped outside it took him a moment to recover from the shock.
Looking over the frozen landscape he could see the storm rising, picking up loose particles of snow. "Yu, Morton here." he said into his comm, but the only response was static. He repeated the message, then switched to his teams frequency; there was no response from them either.
Morton triggered the ghost suit, but as he disappeared from sight the sniper’s round
hit him, throwing him forward and staining the ice red.
Whitby surveyed his surroundings and, finding everything to his satisfaction, threw his head back dramatically and started to chant, rigorously pronouncing every cadeöõõ_‘O-_2™*W&X&X&W&W"7.x>ÚöõÔ2˜w_k|g\c;_[VúZúVû_WW A thin, blond man walked around the exo-suit, examined the pentagram chalked on the floor, and flicked his cigarette at it. Turning to Whitby he said "Pretty." Indignation at the disdain in the stranger’s voice, the insult to his work, brought Whitby back to life. "Who are you?" he demanded, distinctly pronouncing each word. "Leave us alone." the stranger said in the exo-suit’s direction. "I want two of your people posted outside that door." "Yes sir." was the only reply as the pilot clump-clumped his suit out of the chamber. The stranger walked forward and genially. Taken aback, Whitby shook the offered hand. "Doctor Andrew Whitby, specialist in Metaphysics and Quantum Engineering at the Martian Institute of Science, and a senior member of the Aurora Project. It’s a pleasure to meet you after having read so much about you." "It appears you have the advantage over me. Who are you and how do you know so much about me?" "As I said, I’ve read your file. My name is Taylor, and I’m here to take this, what ever it is, off your hands. I’m wondering Doctor, if your colleagues know just what your up to." "What do you mean?" Whitby asked defensively. "I mean, that officially you’re here to find a Precursor factory, while both you and I know you’re really here for who or whatever is in that sarcophagus." Stunned, Whitby couldn’t answer for a moment, then "How do you know that?" "I have my sources. The point of this however is that you aren’t likely to give this up without a fight. Now I could just call in a Marine and have him shoot you, but that would prove nothing." "What are you saying?" "A contest of wills Andrew," the familiarity of his first name grated on Whitby’s nerves. "to discover which one of us is better suited to hold this prize." "All right," said Whitby, gritting his teeth. "I agree." He saw a chance, a very small one, to save himself. If he could defeat Taylor and take the power the Archives had said was held in this room, then any mundane force outside this room would not stand in his way. Standing to his full height, which wasn’t very impressive, Whitby locked eyes with Taylor and it began. It could feel the power of the two minds flowing, pushing, striking, stirring it’s hunger to an unbearable level. It reached out, trying to taste the forces flowing around it, to assuage the pain and hunger just a little...and found a mind it could touch, outside the conflict surrounding it. A young Marine standing guard outside the chamber felt something stir at the edge of his mind, like a butterfly’s wing against his face. He heard a voice singing to him, singing him to sleep. The two men stared into to each others eyes, and for long minutes nothing moved until sweat started to run off both of them. Then Whitby groaned, his eyes rolled back, and he collapsed in a heap. Taylor walked over to make sure the Doctor was unconscious, then inspected the pentagram once more. Finding it satisfactory he began to chant. It basked in the glow of the young soul, feeling the warmth seep into it’s bones before it fed on the life before it. Suddenly it’s awareness was wrenched back into it’s body, and it felt the last of the wards crumble. Taylor felt the wards on the sarcophagus fail as he finished the chant. With an eye on Whitby’s pentagram he willed the lid off the sarcophagus. It fell to the floor, smashing on impact, and revealed what lay inside. Once, Taylor mused, she might have been beautiful, but know she was a moldering corpse wearing shreds of decayed clothing. The only spark of life was the eyes, which burned a deep, smoldering red. "I know what you need." Taylor whispered. He lifted Whitby, shook him until he stirred, then tossed him over the lines of the pentagram. Whitby woke with the jolt of hitting the floor, but it took him a few moments to clear his thoughts, realize where he was. "You bastard!" he cried, and threw himself at Taylor, bouncing of the air as he struck the inside of the pentagram. He fell back against the sarcophagus, and felt a cold presence in his mind, heard the beginnings of a song. He screamed as the song grew louder and his soul slipped away. The young Marine heard the song as through a wall, muted and beautiful, and collapsed into unconsciousness. When he came around his helmet had been taken off and the Major was talking to him. "...Jack? You okay Jack?" "Yes sir," he said weakly. "I think my suit ran out of air." "Get yourself back to the ship." the Major said. "and get Cooper to look you over when he gets the time." "Yes sir." he answered as he walked off down the tunnel, still hearing the ghost of the song running around his head. She stood before him in naked glory. He felt the glamour she was trying to force on him, and touch as she tried to sing his life out of him. He ignored all of it, and struck out at her with his mind. She screamed in pain and the singing stopped. "Send it in he said into his comm. The doors opened and a loading drone rolled in carrying a metal cylinder with runes and sigils carved into it’s surface. Taylor walked over to the drone and opened the cylinder. "You will lay in this for our journey." Taylor commanded. "When we arrive you will be housed in a more comfortable fashion." She stared at him for a long moment, then sent "I will.", with a tinge of resentment. Taylor broke the pentagram, held out a hand and, when she took it, led her over to the cylinder. "Major Harding," Taylor called as he walked out of the chamber, the drone following behind. "is there anybody left alive?" "All hostiles have been neutralized Mr. Taylor." "Any casualties?" "Lieutenant Mahoney had a respirator failure, nothing more serious than that." "Good. Major, we are leaving this place for somewhere much warmer." "Yes sir!"