Yesterday each of the tandem stories will return to their original bloggers for a concluding paragraph, where I was supposed to write the conclusion. Since I had a physics lab to type up, I didn't have time to actually write mine last night and replace the placeholder post then. So with out further ado here is my finished adventure.
It was cold down on the surface. With the scientists still asleep, Jim Fozan was roused awake by the wind. He couldn't seem to adjust to the sound of the howling. He couldn't place why it upset him, but it didn't seem to phase the rest of the expedition. So, he wasn't about to start complaining, he did, however, miss the comfort of his bed. His bed and his wife. He missed her too; well, most of the time. She stayed on Terra. Ember had always hated the idea of space; he lived for space.
The rest of the expedition was largely a civilian group, aside from himself and Jones. All they were concerned with was that the Tablets were on this planet, after a century of research and the code had just been broken, it had to be here; they hoped at least. And they managed to convince the Government that this was indeed the case.
If he was supposed to protect these scientists, it'd be nice if they would actually listen.
The next morning, Fozan paced the extra chamber of the spaceship teporarily designated as the scientists' work room using every ounce of his strength to keep himself shaking some sense into Ferdinand Bemok, one of the leading scientists, an energetic and frail-looking man who apparently needed this expedition to earn his doctorate in xenoplanetary archaeology.
"So you're saying these tablets could literally be anywhere in the largest continent on this planet?"
"Yes"
"And this continent is thirty-million square miles of canyon, rainforrest and desert?"
"Yup"
"And it just so happens that there are about four trillion animal species living there with their own specialized ways of giving you an agonizing death."
"Affirmative."
"And we're just jumping in."
Ferdinand looked up from his stack of papers.
"You know, Foz,"
"Don't call me Foz."
"On the planet I come from, we have balls -- the men at least -- and because of those, we don't worry about a few obstacles, we leap over them. Like men."
"Look, we're not having this conversation because I'm worried about a fer gigantic poisonous rodents, sentient plants or the occasional hurricane-force wind, it's because we've been here for a week and you're only just now telling me how much you don't know. I have a good feeling there's more you're not telling me and keeping secrets from me can and will jeopardize the success of this mission and, you know, the future of your balls."
"Hey, man you're going to have to take that up with Dr. Fitzgerald, he's the archaeological supervisor. For all I know, he told you everything." The insincerity in his voice made Fozan's fingers involuntarily curl into fists. Before he could say more, Fozan heard the muffled sounds of an assistant screaming from the next room and Jones saying something about a stolen canole and calling someone a "pigfucker" or something to that effect.
"SEVEN! SEVEN TIMES I'VE TOLD THEM DON'T TOUCH MY FUCKIN CANOLE! YOU KNOW WHAT THEY DID SEVEN TIMES!?"
"They touched your canole?"
"NO! Well, yes, but not just touch it, they stole it. I'm tired of this job Fozan, we're just glorified security guards."
"Yeah, but they pay is great, and there are some pretty good opportunities here.'
"Fozan, you hate this place as much, if not more, than I do."
Fozan knew that Jones was right, to him this job really sucked. He was thinking to himself, what was Dr. Fitzgerald really after? These so called tablets had to have some special reasoning for them to be out in the hell hole called a planet. The mission briefing said that these tablets were crucial to learning about the history of the universe, but no-one could be this dedicated to the past. Even with the firepower they were packing, they could be killed without even knowing it.
"Jones, I think it's time we talked to Fitzgerald about this operation. Yes, I do mean talking the way we're used to."
12 meters. The hallway to Dr. Fitzgeralds office was 12 meters away. As the two man walk the hall a deep sense of foreboding entered Fozan's mind. It gave him chills the way it used to on Terra, when he had worked with the police. He used to call it his sixth sense, now some pompous doctor on Terra was calling it "Paranormal Detection and Interaction Syndrome."
"What a stupid name," he thought.
5 years he had been subject to test about this; 5 years to tell him what he had already know. That's why he had left in the first place. The feeling now however was much stronger than he had ever felt before. Some serious shit was going down and he needed to be ready. 8 meters. Jones had grabbed a pistol from the arms locker on B deck, and brought him a vest. Jones knew that his partner always carried a weapon, so there was no need to arouse the civis by getting him a bigger one. Jones was nervous, it wasn't like Fozan to rough up civis on a job like this, nromally he liked to play nice. Something was going on. Something big. 5 meters. The hallway was darker than it should of been. A lamp had been broken here during landing. The triangular corridor was lit by one long light on the left side of the floor. It cast strange shadows on the walls. Fozan's mind was scratching at the inside of his head, almost as if it wanted out. 2 meters. They looked at the door not 6 feet from them, and each thought about what they were going to do. Why was this so strange why did it bother them so much? Fozan's mind screamed as they approached the door, and then almost fell silent, as if brooding for the right time to start again. They pressed open. The door took what felt like a millennia to open. They stepped into the doctor's office. Fitzgerald looked at them both.
"Can I help you gentleman?" he said calmly, looking his eyes on a now sweating Fozan.
"Ya doc", Jones barked "Tell us what the hell is going on here. How much more do we not know?"
"I would be happy to, but first I need to make sure of something, Captain, would you kindly?" the doctor motioned to Fozan.
"What are..." Jones was interrupted by the feeling of Fozans gun touch the back of his head "Jim, what the hell are you doing?!?"
"What I tell him" Fitzgerald laughed, "Now I will tell you anything you want to know, but be careful what you ask, you might regret it."
Jones mind wandered, running plans, wondering his chances if he ran for it. 12 meters of straight hallway. Might as well be a pistol range. He would have to play this game, for now.
There was no way out. Whatever this guy was it wasn't human anymore. Maybe he was never human at all. This just wasn't his week; and it wasn't looking like it was about to get any better. At least he had a good fuck the night before.
"Doc, the way I see it is that you only have two Marines left, me and Jim over here; the other ships never made it down here. And if what ever is on this planet is worth killing me over than it would help you to survive getting there." It was a start, Jones could feel the gun against his scalp slowly lowering.
"If I wanted you dead I would have already done so. You see, I need you to stop poking around in my business and just do your jobs." something about Fitzgerald was unsettling. Jones stared, trying to displace the feeling of discomfort as he continued talking, "We've almost found the Tablets. Only one last dig and then we can all go home as heroes. No one will know what happened to the other ships or anything else that happened on this planet." he had it. It was his gold-rimmed glasses, they made his blue eyes appear twice as large and wholly four times as piercing. Fitzgerald looked at him unblinking. "Why is it that you think our ship is still intact while none of the others made it?"
"Dammit." a gun clattered to the floor. "Then-- this is Earth, isn't it?"
"Clever, clever Fos. You've all learned the histories about the old human empire. Imagine the power buried below our very feet. The Tablets were created to extend that history, they've already compiled EVERYTHING, we just have to find it. We could end the war and unite humanity again. To return to our former glory."
"And with that power they destroyed themselves. You can't repeat the past," Jones was horrified, as part of the Marine training they studied about Earth and the the Human Dominion. It's fall had started the wars over 2,000 years ago.
"Can't repeat the past? Why of course I can!"
Do make sure to check out the other Bloggers for the conclusions to their stories.
No comments:
Post a Comment