Reanimated_Terminal Misery Page 4

  It had to be the doctor's condition—he felt as if he'd been here before, but he couldn't recall ever being hospitalized. He watched Ben hobble away, favoring his right leg. Machines gave the other survivors the black protein tea; some coughed others gagged at the rich taste. His eyes drifted to his feet. He could see sickly veins protruding through his wrinkled, pale skin. The sight made his stomach churn again, possibly because he’d been slowly feeding off his flesh for countless years, like an undying vampire.

  A ceramic face with a nonchalant expression peered down at him. The doctor knew the nurse droids but still squirmed aside.

  “No need to worry, Dr. Spencer. You are in good hands. I am going to ask you some questions. Then I will gradually increase your intravenous nutritional intake,” the nurse said.

  “How long will it be before I can leave my bed?”

  “For reasons beyond our understanding, a handful of pods, yours included, had a delayed wake cycle. I believe I can give you a satisfactory approximation. Two days,” the nurse droid said flatly.

  "Thank you, nurse," Dr. Spencer said breathlessly. He wished he could clear the cobwebs clouding his coherent thoughts. Two thousand years. Impossible. Impossible. I feel like dying right now, but I’m alive, he thought, sensing fear and claustrophobia kicking in. The computer's time cycle was damaged somehow or malfunctioned during the cataclysm. That's the only explanation, he resolved in his hammer-battered mind.

  Despite his desire to remain awake, he slipped into a troubled sleep, where no answers awaited.

  Chapter 12

  Universal

  Manta, Ecuador, Rosa Mountains

  April 26, 4067

  Dr. Spencer, how fare the people?” Dr. Malica Boudra asked, her once tall, curvaceous form as pasty and gaunt as everyone else's.

  “They’re faring well. It’ll take a few days for everyone to regain their fortitude. I see your English has improved,” Dr. Spencer said.

  “That is what I was coming to tell you. I am not speaking English but Serbian.”

  “I beg your pardon, Dr. Malica, but I hear you speaking English quite clearly. I mean, you do have a faint accent, but it's English," he said, arching an eyebrow.

  “I know what you hear, but I swear to you, I am speaking Serbian. I was confused for a while, too, because everyone was speaking Serbian. I thought I was having a nervous breakdown. Dr. Blout Schmitt is my neighbor, and he cannot speak Serbian, but I understood him clearly, though he swears he is speaking Douche…" She paused, stepping closer to the doctor as if sharing some dark secret. "They sounded the same. It is an enigma, yes?"

  “Yes. Does Ben Greer know this?”

  “No. I was about to tell him.”

  They walked past people on computers, checking their stash to ensure everything was in order, or eating and conversing.

  Ben Greer worked on a 3-D chart, running his fingers over digits with some dexterity.

  “Ben, have you been told about the universal translators?” Dr. Spencer said.

  "Yes, but the techs are telling me it can't be an implant? We scanned everyone before coming down, and we found no devices. Hiding such advanced technology would prove impossible. Plus, what would be the point? More importantly, how could they have done it? Six people volunteered for early CEEP testing, and only at that time could have someone placed an implant but just in those six subjects," Ben said.

  “Unless…humans didn’t put them in us,” Dr. Spencer said.

  “Spence, are you referring to those damn aliens that visited us back on Old Earth?” Ben said, appearing uncomfortable.

  "Whatever we're dealing with here works to a near perfection, and I have to admit it improves communication. It's inside of us, and it scares me beyond words. Who's been tampering with us while we slumbered…? He paused and shook his head. "In any case, I know I told you we should stay put until everyone was strong enough to travel but, we need to see what’s up-top... Something tells me we will find our answer there,” Dr. Spencer said, pointing toward the surface.

  “Yeah, well, I already considered that. I sent two of our healthiest security officers, but we have a problem. The elevators are dead, which we expected. They tried the backup generator and said it’s fried, too.” Ben sighed.

  Dr. Spencer's eyes traced the receding dome. His eyes spooked as the curved, jagged ceiling climbed into blackness. "You mean we have to climb out?"

  “Not climb, but pretty much the same thing, considering our condition. We have to take the stairs. We're talking about a Mount Everest climb here, due to everyone's conditioweakn. The two officers I sent wanted to try it, but they're not healthy enough either, and if they should encounter a medical emergency, they'd be on their own. I'm afraid we will have to wait a few days, two at the most.” Ben held out two fingers for emphasis. He still didn’t recognize his scrawny hand. The last time he’d gone on a diet, he had barely managed to lose five pounds. Now he could count his ribs.

  "But, if someone or something is watching, then what?" Malica said.

  Ben shook his head. "Look, there is no proof anyone one is surveilling us. Mathew's a guru on tech, even on alien tech, and he insists there is no active technology in the vicinity, save our own. I'm sure there's a logical explanation for the speech comprehension issue. For now, we should take extra care and tell everyone to inform any abnormalities, no matter how slight." Ben surveyed their expressions.

  “And if we are in danger?” Dr. Malica said, crossing her arms over her gaunt chest.

  Ben snorted. “Very well. I will order the security staff to arm themselves and set a perimeter. Satisfied?”

  Dr. Spencer regarded Malica, who nodded. "Yes," she answered, but remained skeptical. She knew danger first hand. Serbia—her country of origin—was a war-torn country. One conflict ended only for another to start. She had grown used to deception. A hard life had taught her to be cautious.

  “How are our supplies?” Dr. Spencer asked.

  “We have enough rations to feed an army for weeks, so we’re fine there, Spence,” Ben said.

  “What size army?” Malica squinted sidelong as if testing Ben.

  “One larger than our current population. We never filled the other units with people, so that increases our supplies substantially. Plus, we lost 123 comrades, and that adds to it. Conserving water is crucial, though.” Ben sighed deeply. "Our main priority is to find a natural spring and anything edible to conserve our supplies for eventualities.” He’d been worried about what they’d find once they emerged, a steady white Arctic-like landscape, a barren rock surface, or a contaminated cesspool. He recalled David telling him of the continuance emergency protocol—CEP. If no one could survive due to the environmental conditions, at least two of the healthiest couples would be chosen, given the last rations, and placed back in the cryo-chambers. I hope we didn’t come all this way only to starve to death, Ben thought, ignoring Dr. Malica and Dr. Spencer’s exchange.

  "In the meantime, I will find the healthiest men among us. I'll increase their dietary supplement so they may be ready to make the climb," Dr. Spencer said.

  “Sounds good,” Ben replied.

  “We still have to address positions, yes?” Malica said, erecting her already tall frame.

  "Poor David, he was ready to give up his position when the Secretary arrived, and now the machine he trusted serves as his casket. We will have to put it to vote. As of right now, Spencer, you Malica, and I will continue to communicate before making any major decisions, since we are the senior members of the CEEP program. Are you both Okay with this decision?" Ben asked, wearing a frown.

  “That is good,” Malica said.

  "Sounds acceptable," Dr. Spencer agreed but wondered why Ben had started taking charge of security and made other decisions without consulting with anyone. He even sent personnel on a mission without checking with Malica or him. David had appointed them as his replacements in case something happened to him, which had been announced publicly and saved to record. David had nam
ed Ben his second in command during CEEP testing but left no other leadership decisions regarding the man. Unfortunately, he knew it would be presumed, rather than documented. Dr. Spencer watched Ben depart and glanced at Malica, who was doing the same.

  Chapter 13

  Pinch

  Manta, Ecuador, Rosa Mountains

  April 27, 4067

  Aron Stoger led Dr. Spencer to where his friend lay.

  “How are you feeling, Mark? Aron tells me you felt a sting and now you have a bruise,” Dr. Spencer said, squatting beside the man’s slumbering form, his face a sweat-splotched mess.

  I was in the lavatory when I felt a pinch. Damn thing hurt like hell. I thought some critter pricked me, even though I doubted anything could survive in these cold, damp caves. This morning I woke up with this lumpy bruise. Now I’m convinced I’ve been stung by something.” Mark winced when he spun on the cot.

  The doctor touched Mark’s cheek and frowned. The man was burning up. “Okay, let me have a look.”

  Mark exposed his thigh. His jaws clamped tight.

  A brutish purple lump with green vanes spread across his upper thigh. The sight made Dr. Spencer gasp.” He snapped on latex gloves, molding them to his sweaty palms. “Now, remain still and tell me how bad it hurts.”

  “Okay, Doc,” Mark said, already tensing.

  Dr. Spencer palpated the wound. Heat radiated from it. He noticed Mark grimacing, teeth clenching tighter as the doctor touched the affected area. "How does this feel?"

  "It burns, feels like I got burnt," Mark said tightly jawed.

  “Feels hot to the touch and there’s a strange throbbing to it,” Dr. Spencer said, more to himself than to Mark.

  Dr. Spencer’s head spun. “Aron, go to my cubicle and tell the nurse to give you my bags and the pill case.” The man acknowledged with a thumbs up. “Well, Mark, I have good news and bad news. The bad news is that it does seem something stung you, and it is infected. I’ll need to draw blood, and I’ll need to lance it. The good news is that it’s confined to this region,” Dr. Spencer said, tracing the bruise with his finger. “You say this happened yesterday?”

  "Yesterday morning, but I didn't notice the swelling until this morning," Mark said as if chiding himself. He had wanted to check the bite upon leaving the makeshift bathroom but got busy studying anomalous readings he'd found in the air samples he'd collected the previous day.

  “I don’t think any of us expected to find anything alive after the Cataclysm, so at least that is a positive thing. If there is life down here, then there may be some above ground.” Dr. Spencer smiled, tapping the man’s forearm reassuringly, but hoped it wasn’t too late to save the man’s leg or his life. In Mark’s weakened state, even a mild poison could kill him. They were all weak, and the last thing they needed was to get sick or attacked by poisonous creatures.

  Aron returned, sprinting around obstacles. He put the bags on the floor, opening them close to the doctor.

  “Don’t worry, we have quite a few options, Mark,” Dr. Spencer said, noticing the alarmed expression on the man’s face when Aron opened the bags.

  Thanks, Aron. Tell the phlebotomist I need her to draw some blood. Also, I'll need some warm compresses."

  “Will do," Aron said, leaving once more.

  Dr. Spencer prepped the affected zone. He rubbed the area with a painkiller, then with an antiseptic paste. He withdrew a thin scalpel, which made Mark gasp slightly. "You won't feel a thing, Mark," he said, holding the bruised area with forefinger and thumb. The glistening, sterile instrument hovered over the black entry point. "Okay, remain still." Dr. Spencer probed the small spot and made a slight incision. An inky black drop smeared from the cut. Dr. Spencer squeezed gently, and a worm-like salamander slithered from the wound, followed by another.

  Mark squealed, jerking his leg away. His eyes widened into complete orbs. Dr. Spencer reached for a small container. “Remain still! We need to clean the woun—”

  "What the hell is that?" Mark interrupted, waving his shaky arms in the air as if trying to flee from the sight.

  “Not sure, but we need to get them out of your leg,” the doctor said, reaching for Mark.

  Dr. Spencer signaled to a man sitting on an adjacent cot. “We need your help.”

  The man hesitated when he saw Mark’s face. Then he approached, appearing guarded.

  “Hold his legs still, please." Dr. Spencer said, watching another salamander wriggling free from the wound. Using tweezers, he pulled the creature free from the blackened laceration. It plopped beside its brothers and sisters, contorting and wiggling in objection. The doctor quickly retrieved the two that were scattering away on the ground, still clumsy on their short legs as they tried to wriggle around pebbles.

  Aron was returning with an Asian woman but began to run when he noticed the commotion. He reached out and supported Mark's shoulders.

  They held Mark down because he kept fidgeting.

  Dr. Spencer cursed himself for not bringing the nurse and an etorphine-ZX shot, but Mark was too weak to survive the dose anyway.

  The doctor held the container below the affected area and squeezed. Black mire oozed from the cut, which wiggled with a dozen salamanders that jerked frantically as they plopped into the jar.

  Mark went limp, and Aron held him upright.

  “What in God’s name is that,” Aron said, drawing his head back.

  "I've never seen anything like it. These creatures are using him as a host," Dr. Spencer said.

  “How can they live all the way down here? It’s too cold,” Aron said, handing the doctor the towels, feeling as sick as the day he’d awakened.

  "No reptile I know can do this," Dr. Spencer said, introducing a cotton probe into the wound. To his surprise it was hollow. No more worm-like creatures wriggle free, but the tip touched no soft tissue until it reached Mark’s sinew. He gasped. Mark should be in considerably more pain. They’ve eaten clear to his muscles.

  "He told me this morning his leg felt numb. I thought maybe he slept in a bad position or something. Then he collapsed back on his cot, pulled his pants down, and said he needed a doctor," Aron said, not taking his eyes from the contents of the bowl Dr. Spencer was securing.

  We need to move him to surgery and start a drip before he awakens,” Dr. Spencer said, peering at Aron, who remained rigid in shock. “Get the paramedics and a gurney.” He turned to the other shocked man. Sir, what is your name?”

  “John. I‘m maintenance,” he said stiffly. His face had grown paler.

  “John, find Malica Boudra and tell her to meet me in the med tent.” I need to tell Mathew to expedite the communication setup. This method of running around is to slow for emergencies.

  *************************************

  “Life? How is this possible? How could reptiles live down here in the dark and so far from the surface? Ben Greer said, disgusted by the swimming creatures.

  "We have no time for questions or suppositions. We have a man who has sustained a major wound. These things grew fast, and the black ooze they produce contains a numbing agent. These things breed this way, and we have eleven hundred folks for them to incubate in. The cave needs to be inspected and cleared of threats,” the doctor said.

  “Agreed,” Malica said, her face contorting with disgust, her lips twisting into a grimace, while the salamanders probed at their transparent cage.

  "I'll break out the flashlights, but what do we do if we find something?" Ben said.

  "I don't know, just, use anything to kill it. We must deal with this creature. I haven't even begun a thorough test on this substance, but there were many other chemicals in it." The doctor spoke fast as he scrubbed his hands.

  “I think there is something more we have to consider,” Malica said, looking pale.

  “What?” Ben turned to her.

  “If these salamanders have been here for two millenniums, what were they feeding on?” she said, eying the two men, who glanced at each other blankly.

>   Chapter 14

  Intruder

  Manta, Ecuador, Rosa Mountains

  April 27, 4067

  "How many weapons do we have?" Malica said, eying the Torus revolver someone had handed her.

  “You mean weapons to kill slithering reptiles that nest in your skin? Try none,” Manas, the security team leader, said.

  “Well, even this Torus is not a weapon to me. I prefer a Zastava pistol,” she said, tilting her head. “We need long sticks or rods. Find as many as possible and distribute them among the people,” Malica said, dismissing the team leader with a nod.

  “We only have three dozen flashlights,” Dr. Spencer said, holding up two high powered wrist lamps.

  “What? They sell those a dollar a dozen at the Five Market,” she fumed.

  “Relax…we have another option. I sent techs to get all the fog lights that we have,” Dr. Spencer said.

  “We have a lot of areas to cover. Will they have enough?”

  “Oh, yes. Here are the techs now." The doctor shook hands with a young, stocky man that had once probably been massive. “Give me some good news, Mathew,” the doctor said, examining the commotion around him. The Robinson Crusoe colonists were out of sorts, not daring to rest on their cots or even go to the mobile restrooms ever since the news about the dangerous life forms was released.

  “I have good news indeed. We have enough overhead lamps to mimic the sun down here. The system is intended for our temporary tent city, but I can rig enough to render a flashlight useless,” Mathew said, delivering a reassuring grin.

  “How long will it take,” Malica said, hoping they didn’t notice how she glanced at the ground periodically.

  “We've already started. Give us about half an hour to get the lights distributed, but we'll turn them on one-by-one as we complete each section.”