Dr. Creepen's Dungeon - S5 Ep253: Episode 253: Horror Stories from Outer Space

Episode Date: June 27, 2025

original work by The Babylon Project, kindly shared directly with me vie the Creepypasta Wiki and narrated here for you all under the conditions of the CC-BY-SA license. https://creepypasta.fandom.com/wiki/The_Devil%27s_Cosmonaut Tonight’s final fabulous story is ‘The Mojave Spaceman’ by MonarchMKUltra, kindly shared with me via the Creepypasta Wiki and read here under the conditions of the CC-BY-SA license. https://creepypasta.fandom.com/wiki/The_Mojave_Spaceman https://creepypasta.fandom.com/wiki/User:MonarchMKUltra

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BetMGM operates pursuant to an operating agreement with Eye Gaming Ontario. To Dr. Creepin's dungeon. Space terrifies us because it represents the ultimate unknown. An endless dark void filled with silence and isolation. The sheer scale of the cosmos, where vast distances separate planets, stars and galaxies, makes human life feel insignificant. The danger are immense, from deadly radiation to the vacuum that offers no air, no warmth and no hope of survival without protection.

It's a hostile alien environment that defies our understanding. understanding, whether potential for discovering terrifying, incomprehensible forces or life forms lurks beyond the stars, feeding our deepest fears of the unknown. As we shall see in tonight's three tales of terror. Now, as ever before we begin, a word of caution. Tonight's stories may contain strong language as well as descriptions of violence and horrific imagery. That sounds like your kind of thing. And let's begin. Volcanic lava tubes near Acidalia, planetia.

Mars. Terra. Home. Emergency. Come. Failed to reach Harmonia Habitat. Relay to Harmonia Central via cut off in the lavitude.

Headed you away. Earlier. Harmonia Habitat Mars. Elona 107 to Terra Home. Crew and settlers have arrived. All transports have landed safely. Chief Coordinator Perry reported at last. He knew that it would take approximately 11 minutes for the message to reach Earth,

several minutes for them to develop or find their prepared reply, and then another 11 minutes or so for their acknowledgement to arrive. He looked over at the navigator. Okay, Chris, he might as well use the next 25 minutes to get the transport as set to head out to the habitat. It looks like a smooth operation so far. The nav officer grinned at him. Glad you had to the qualifier.

I wouldn't want to be jinx just after landing with the first official settlers on Mars. Besides, so many are from different countries. It would be a truly international incident should we fail in some way. Eleven minutes later, on Earth, they're down and save. Anyone who waited until after the actual landing may now pop the corks. The operations manager cried to the staff, who responded with everything from riotous cheers to slight smiles. Most of them had worked diligently for a doubt.

decade or more to make the project a reality. Many were nearing exhaustion, having been engaged in their own endeavours to ensure the success of this mission. A few had invested an entire career in this moment. Dr. Van Kaczynski, Dr. K., to the myriad who could neither spell nor pronounce his name properly, knew his response by heart. Yet still nearly failed to get it past the lump in his throat. Received to Belona, one or seven, congratulations.

The next step for humanity begins with you. All the best of the new inhabitants of Harmonia, our newest sovereign nation of humanity, our Martians. Harmonia Habitat, Mars. The next several days were required to transfer the new population of Harmonia, Mars, from the numerous transport craft to the habitat that was to be their home for the remainder of their lives. The transports were indeed to become a part of the habitat, and had simply to be shifted and joined to the...

existing structures. Everything else had been delivered and set up as far as possible. The colonists were not the first arrivals, a team of specialized construction specialists, a total of 246 living humans, numerous animals that had been broad as pets, and several thousand artificially intelligent automaton of various configurations eagerly awaited the new arrivals. Most had family or friends among the latest batch of interplanetary frontiers international folk. Yet this was the big transfer, another 1,775 souls prepared for permanent exile from Terra firma. Humanity was officially a chartered interplanetary species. The majority of the new arrivals brought some type of expertise. There was plenty for everyone to do. Jeff Martin was

no exception. He was an exoplanetary geologist and had been part of the earliest teams that first explored the best options and locations and then helped to prepare the colony. It had taken most of his career and he looked forward to retiring in the reduced gravity of Mars in the next several years. He was the manager for his team and so far they seem like an exceptional group of young people. We've attempted to anticipate every contingency and need that will arise before Bologna 1A8 arrives next month. The goal is of course to create total sustainability and independence from the resources of the home planets. We may be chartered, but we still have a long way

to go before we're truly independent. Once everyone has settled, we'll begin to see what we missed in our preparations. He paused to allow for some rueful chuckles to circulate around the room. We're one of the teams that will truly have a full-time long-term mission.

It's our goal to study as much of the Red Planet as we can. We'll search for mineral deposits, metals, and above all water. We know that there's plenty, but so far what we've found is in the form of ice. We hope to find large accumulations of liquid below the surface, where we plan to build future settlements. It's a big task, yet together we have the expertise, and you all have the energy.

You've had the opportunity to study the information we've found so far. The place is a marvel and positively stuffed with resources. The processing crews that worked with the big automated plans and work at AI bots have had it easy so far. Part of our team mission is to stir up trouble by discovering even more resources. Let's go to work and make some problems for others to solve. And with that, he assumed an enthusiastic grin and the team broke up to loud self-appropriations. Maintenance and survival crew chief, Iqbal Mohammed, grinned at his team at virtually the same moment. We are the sustainers. We will always be needed, so while we are busy at the moment, there will be downtime to which we are.

we may look forward. Nothing is perfect. Already the complaints by the settlers have begun to arrive. Oh, my bed is not right. Oh, I cannot get hot water. The VAT produced protein tastes funny. My computer will not connect. And on with little things.

Yet we've had no safety failures. The seals are intact and the machinery hums as it should. Our AI bots are flying from station to station to ensure that our new colonists are as contented as may be. Good work. Our main job is to maintain our AIB so that they can in turn take care of routine and minor repairs, and we must be vigilant to head off crises. We have the best job on the planet. We will always be necessary. Senior manager Ching Young surveyed the terraforming team leaders, currently seated around the conference table. How glorious moment has yet to arrive, comrades. We are to be the farmers of tomorrow and to feed our new world.

Our machinery and AI bots are in place and confirmed as operable and efficient. They have completed a great deal of preparation, and now the team members who will help us develop this world into something sustainable have arrived. We must focus on getting them trained and prepared. Well, as we have each experienced, none of the training received on the old world was sufficient. Let them settle until day after tomorrow. Then we must get them to work. they can worry about their personal quarters and business later we want them up to speed and busy they will ensure not only efficiency but that they will not have time to get bored and restless power plant crew manager selina armendaris patted our crew chief on the shore good work johnson everyone seems happiest with our efforts no whining by the new arrivals everyone has more than sufficient power to get settled to get their work started she walked out of her

into the room a very tall woman appeared at her team members we have the smallest of the major teams yet one of the most critical nothing happens here without power we've handed over much to our high-tech AI partners and they've rewarded our trust please keep up the good work the team members grinned at her and set off to their duties two days later in the main conference room chief coordinator Reese Perry shared a stately smile as he looked over the team of managers and crew chiefs. As the overall management team, we're responsible for coordinating the efforts of our various teams and crews,

to ensure that each mission supports the others. Well, frankly, it's a matter of survival. Well, no worries at this juncture, and you've done excellent work thus far. I think we've heard enough in-person meetings to satisfy all of us from months to come. The rest of them will be online, and I hope we can keep the in-depth face-to-face gatherings to a minimum. Not that I don't enjoy seeing your lovely faces, he chuckled.

Everyone here is not merely competent, but at or near the top of his or her game. We have more talent on this planet than is present in any single state or country on Earth. Let's show the Mother Earth is what we can do. With that, he opened the floor for Q&A, followed by more comments and the provision of decisions on the... minor matters and the schedule of online conferences to discuss larger issues in the coming days before a final decision. As the last of the management team was leaving, the lights dimmed for a moment, and the airflow regulators that kept up a steady breeze filled with the perfect

balance of oxygen, nitrogen and other necessary gases for human respiration, stalled. By the time shock gave way to startle commentary, everything had returned to normal. A screen on the table and matching one near the doorway flashed. Temporary power interruption, corrected, and then went back into normal quiet modes. Iqbal caught Reese's eye. On it, my team will review. Selina nodded as well.

Iqbal and his team searched for the source of the glitch for some time and found that not only was there no source, but there was also no record of the incident. He shook his head in frustration. and stared at his assistance. We did not imagine this incident. I was there. The chief coordinator and several of the management team were still in the conference room.

We all experienced the failure, and it was reported by several settlers. But now, there is no trail. That is impossible. Wouldn't you agree, Rajesh? Rajesh nodded. Agreed. Even had the interruption been but a split second, it would have registered. it. Even a manual override of the system should create a record once power is restored,

and there's only one source for that. It has not been touched, and besides, it gives off loud and sinister alarms to warn the population. Only the AI itself might manage it, but that is impossible, too, make counter to programming. They may be intelligent machines, but we still supply them with their basic directives. He stepped back and rubbed his chin, as he turned to do when he worried and when his work required deeper consideration i will keep a team on this we will run some diagnostics that will take a few items offline no more major disruptions he quickly added to forestall any objections from his boss just some of the redundancies will be reduced during the process iqbal nodded yes find the glitch and the record i'll confer with selina

inform the big guy of our status nothing on our end self Well, power was never off. Well, if our AI is to be believed, Pat informed his supervisor. Selina nodded. Thanks, Pat. I'll get with Iqbal. Maybe they can run a diagnostic. There was no trace of the glitch to be found,

and while the mystery nagged at those colonists who tended to worry over unsolved mysteries, the rest of the teams moved forward with their work, the incident quickly forgotten. Well, until the illnesses began. About the time the second shift of diners was finishing up their meals, the first shift began to call into the infirmary. AI bots were sent far and wide to assist those who'd fallen ill. By the third dining shift, the entire colony was on alert, and the second shift had begun to fall ill.

Despite the best efforts of the AI bots and the human medical staff, a total of 54 people perished from hemorrhaging and fever, brought on by food poisoning. Two-thirds of the colony were down and suffered varying levels and length of incapacity. It's impossible, Rees spoke to his monitor. All of the management team was online and secure in their quarters in case the illness had been caused by a virus or other vector. Every single cell that was checked for diseases, as were the in-place crew.

We screened for everything known to humanity. The only other explanation is that the food was tainted in some way. Well, the AI bots are scanning for that. In the meantime, we have to figure out what to feed everyone. Iqbal chimed in, and his image replaced that of the chief coordinator. We had a few complaints about the taste of the proteins on day one. We started with those and the vats. We have raw data, and the primary AI is putting it into translatable information.

We should have it within a few minutes, or at any moment. Is it any plan to contact Terra home? Reese's image once more filled the screen, though several other managers and teamleys had tried to chime in and speak. As chief coordinator, he was able to supersede the rest. I'll inform them once we have a status and a solution. We don't need to call Mommy for every little problem. He bowed his head for a moment as more signals of those wishing to speak lit up at the bottom of the screen, and a row of tiny faces that belonged to each appeared along the bottom of his screen.

But no, the loss of lives is not a little problem. My point is that we'd be best to contact them after we have the facts and determine our actions for ourselves. That way, we will inform them rather than allowing them to instruct or believe that they can overrule our decisions. We are autonomous. But that said, we will want to notify the families of those who've perished. He then allowed Iqbal to assume the monitor once more. Okay, the AI reports that there was an unauthorized food epidemic. Oh, crap, it blinked off the screen.

Just like the last glitch. We're on it. In the meantime, the rest of the message is that all food is safe for consumption. Selina then claimed the microphone. You all can do what you want. I will not be eating protein from the vats until we have direct confirmation by human lab workers. The AI is acting funny. I don't trust it any more than I would have vat-grown pork chop.

Reese allowed any of the management who wished to monitor his call to Earth. Terra home, we saddened to report the loss of 54 Martians. Approximately 1,200 are still ill, around 300 critically. The AI docks assure us that they will all survive. We've included the names of the departed and their images, so that families and friends may be notified. We'd hoped to be able to allow the new arrivals to make contacts on their own, but agreed that it would be best to allow you to control the information.

the information as you see fit for the moment. You've traced the problem to protein processing vats, a type of genetically modified bacteria introduced into the system. We have the situation in hand. Our primary AI has had a few glitches and we may request some troubleshooting advice. Everyone on this planet is tech-savvy, but perhaps we're too close to the problem. Eleven minutes later, on Earth. David looked incredulously at the readout that went with the audio message remarks the audio failed for just a moment and the read outstated two-thirds of Martians have been killed send help immediately fortunately David spoke the same language as the chief coordinator so he was able to rapidly determine that the

messages did not sink and pause his reaction he was about to call over his supervisor when the screen blinked and the message started again with audio to report the loss of 54 Martians. Reese, Dr. K, we've received your message, but it started with a glitch. We need to confirm immediately which message is correct.

He completed his message, sent it and sat back anxiously to await the reply from Mars. Eleven minutes later, on Mars. Reese and the rest of the management team listened to the reply from Dr. K. Reese sent back the confirmation

that the audio message was the correct one, and assigned Iqbal and several other teams to investigate why the AI would send an obviously false message. By the time another week had passed, the last of the memorial services was complete, and all but a few of the sickest colonists had resumed at least light duties. The colony will soon be humming along nicely, Jeff thought. At least my team is all back, mostly. Plain to do down in the tunnels. Those still don't make much sense.

I mean, clearly lava tubes, but very uniform. Mars definitely experienced volcanism at some point. He continued to hum along nicely in his own right, as the little mining craft took him and his exploration team to the farthest reaches they'd yet explored in the tunnels. The AI had mapped them, and the AI bots had mapped them further. Still, nothing like exploring for himself. He grinned around at his current crew of three.

Well, that's... looks like the problems are behind us. There had to be at least a few glitches, eh? All three faces turned toward him. The machine was itself a form of AI bot and drove itself, so they were all able to focus on his words. They each looked at least a little uncomfortable. Cam, Jeff's assistant manager, gave a boss a wry look. If you consider fifty-four people dying as a glitch, I suppose it's okay. Jeff shook his head.

I didn't mean the deaths, just the causes of them. besides whoever thought we could settle another planet without deaths humans couldn't cross oceans and continents on earth without people dying in droves from disease, probation, conflict yet it's sad and we should pause to honour the lives of our fallen and the grief of our losses but we have to stay focused on the prize in our case water and minerals

aren't you lot at least happy to be out away from the habitat you receive general approbation for that question and Alphonse, one of the other geologists, responded. Definitely, the place was growing morbid. The photos of the departed flashing across the screens in the common areas. Depressing. I knew one of them. Tachaka, a good fellow who rose out of poverty to get his education just so we could come to this planet.

Or he worked harder than anyone I know. It was all for nothing. I was ready to get away for a while. They rode in silence for a while. period, then the AI spoke. We are passing the last death to which living humans have descended. Everything from here forward is Marsha Incognita for you. The voice was designed to sound both human and pleasant.

Sometimes the AI forgot to tone down its helpful tones, and they came across as sarcastic. Now the crew worried about it at the moment. They were excited. No one alive had been further into the crust of the planet than they were at this very moment. The three crew members looked eagerly at their screens, but Jeff stared out of the little window at the front of the capsule-shaped vehicle. That put him physically ahead of the rest, so he was technically first to forge ahead. He'd always preferred the live view, offered by the tiny windows to that offered on the screens, though with those one could get readouts about

the configuration of the walls of the enormous tubes that permeated the area near the settlement. He was first to note that something had changed. The others continued to stare contentedly at their monitors, but he was sure that something had... Water? The walls were damp with it. As they row forward and downward, the density picked up so that there were actual drips from the ceiling and higher walls.

The first approximation of rain he'd observed on Mars. He, are you all seeing this on your screens? He asked of the crew without turning. It's bloody raining. Chen looked up first. My AI says there's been no increase in H2O content. About then, the transport AI, in whose belly they traveled, spoke. The area around us is saturated with water.

The area ahead contains a large body of the substance. We will be able to continue the passage. This vehicle can withstands of motion as well as high or low pressure. at environments without damage to passengers or cargo. Chen glanced at her screen and then up again. The others followed suit. My screen is now showing the water. It wasn't recorded on any of the information from the AI Scoutbot explorations.

Is it another glitch? The young woman asked. Jeff shook his head. I don't know. We definitely sent AI ScoutBots this way before we came along. He looked up. He didn't know why, since he'd done it. since his early years, but he thought he'd never get used to speaking directly with AI.

Transborder, why did the AI scoutbots fade to show or report this finding of water? The AI scoutbots reported the water. Look at your records. You are clearly mistaken. Jeff looked at his own screen, and there it was. A complete report and 3D imaging, overlaid with a man. He did not trust his own senses and looked at the others. for confirmation. Well, they soon all had the same map and report from the AI, dated two days earlier. Three heads once more swiveled towards Jeff, this time with questioning expressions, tinged with fear, and they met his gaze.

Lad, we have another glitch. I say we go on and set eyes on the water for ourselves before we turn back for habitat. It would be best to have confirmation before we decide which report is correct. that of the AI system or our own senses. The others nodded tensely in agreement as he met each pair of eyes. We have arrived in our entering the shallows, the AI transport reported coldly.

Jeff turned back toward the front window. They were well past any shallows and out into a green sea that swirled and bubbled at their passage. He looked at his screen and punched him in an order for a survey of the water. He primarily wanted to know why it was green. likely chemicals but he wanted to know how larger concern that would be in case it was something corrosive like glory if they had indeed found the big pond they'd hoped for then the habitat was well on its way to success with clean fresh water something moved past the window and blocked the light from the front of the machine for just a moment or had the lights simply flashed like they did on day one he asked himself

Transport. What was that in front of us in the water? There was nothing in the water. A rock formation above us dipped low from the ceiling. The tunnel has become a cavern and there are stalactites. Chen spoke again. Chief Martin, my screen showed a moving object for a moment. Now it shows a stationary rock formation, one that was not there a short time ago. There weren't even any tunnel walls. Definitely some glitches. they are should have been able to easily avoid a stationary object now it shows that there was no moving object the record has been altered she fell silent as did the others when the transport stopped there is no problem only a need to stop and assess we will resume our journey momentarily a piercing shrieg committed from the speakers for just long enough to allow the human passengers to fling away their headsets and cover their ears with their handsets and cover their ears with their hands

hands. All electronics attached to the AI transport stop. Even the air circulators and emergency lights failed. Jeff saw the silhouettes of his team members, huddled fearfully at their stations. Another bloody glitch, but it'll be cleared soon, like all the others. It took him a moment to realise that he should be surrounded by utter darkness. Yet there was light, dim but enough to note. It came from the emerald waters in which they were in. trance. Another mystery, his mind informed him, but a welcome one. Glows from personal lights soon ate away at the remaining gloom and faces once more emerged from the darkness. Each team member possessed a personal lighting device and, if needed, a short-term breathing

apparatus. The tanks were under the seats. They'd worn pressure suits as required of all who ventured outside of harmonia habitat. Even if the power should remain off, They be able to survive until they were rescued. Alphonse raised a point. What if the AI, the habitat, will not notify a rescue team? With all the other glitches, you may have to save ourselves. At least we'll have to call for help. The AI can change the records to show that we never called and were never in any danger.

I don't trust it at all. The others looked around in consternation and Jeff sensed that panic was about to break loose. Don't worry. I've already sent a message to Harmonia Central. The transport's not the only means of communication with them. The initial team that found them had relays implanted through the tunnel systems. I've already sent a distress notification. Chen shook her head.

The AI can block that or change it as soon as it hits topside. Silence returned as each team member sank into his or her thoughts to search for a solution. The transport rocked gently and the light from out in the water wavered and swirled along with the currents. Something big approached. There were dull, metallic thumps from the hull, and the transport, still powerless, began to move. So, we have a truncated message from the AI transport. They encountered water, and then silence. As has been typical, the AI then reported that there had been no message, only perhaps.

intercepted chatter among the colonists. Oh, there is, of course, now no record and no way to trace any of the communications and the relay systems not responding. It's pretty clear. We'll need to send rescue teams down the tunnels as soon as they're clear. He paused, knowing that his next proclamation would be controversial. And we'll have to shut down everything on the planet all at once. It's the only way to reset completely and clean out the glitch.

Reese completed his initial pronouncement and awaited the explosion of comments. He was surprised that manager Young spoke first. I think my team should attempt the rescue. We have the most experience outside habitats. I know that Mr. Muhammad may see this as a maintenance and technical issue. However, the rescue may require physical engineering skills that our team possess. Iqbal started to object out of hand, but then bit off. his remarks.

I see what you mean, comrade. I agree. How many transports will you take? Shang Yang looked at Reese. Chief coordinator, I think two will do it. We simply don't know enough to risk more. When Reese nodded, he looked at Iqbal. Perhaps two techs per transport.

Iqbal nodded. I'll send you a four-pack, the ones with the most exohabitat experience. He turned back to Reese. As for this shutdown, it's more than risky. Everyone will be off life support until the system can restart. How about resetting with emergency power still activated? We can take care of the power, as long as the tech will function.

Our mender is added. Easy for us, either way. It's up to tech on the reset. That seems to be where the problem is. My team's small, but I'd like to include one member on each of the transports for the rescue and recovery team. The power failures make no sense, but that makes six personnel per capsule. Reese thought for a moment. If the AI is as smart as we believed,

it'll anticipate us leaving on some basic survival tech. The glitch may hide in that. I think we need a hard shutdown and reset. Let's prepare for that and we'll decide after we get our tunnel teams back in hand. Prepare to get wet, Chung. The upside is that we finally have, lick. with water. The rest of the team nodded. Water would advance harmonia habitat immensely. The light from outside the transport remained steady other than the slight rippling effect

caused by filtering it through water. Jeff felt the tension he'd been carrying release somewhat when the transport came to a gentle stop. It ratcheted up dramatically, though, when the outer and inner hatches cycled open simultaneously. The entire crew swiveled their chairs to face the expected rush of water and expulsion of atmosphere. But neither occurred. The same, steady greenish light that had permeated the water emanated from a dry, very smooth and clean corridor. The pressure underneath the ground was obviously equal

to that in the AI transport, since the air did not expel violently. There was a mild current that settled almost immediately. The air from outside was considerably colder than that inside the transport. They still wore their pressure suits and now donned helmets. The helmet screens informed them of the changes and the similarities. All out for Anaheim, Asusa and Cucamonga, Cam announced in her melancholy tone. Should someone stay here to protect the transport?

Alphonse querulously asked with an implication that he was available and indeed prepared to volunteer for that duty. Jeff grinned. Absolutely. I think Cam should stay. She's a conductor. before Cam could offer a rejointer a voice emerged from the corridor the AI

you must all exit continue down the corridor you will know when you have reached your destination let's comply Jeff decided we have limited life support and we've no idea where we are seems we're in the hands of our captors benefactors or well

well we're under the control of others than ourselves. The quartet proceeded down the corridor. It wasn't that long. It ended at a blank, flat wall. Just as Chen was about to speak, the wall rose and revealed a large room on the other side. The walls opened in either direction on a large, empty space that extended on a head for another sixty feet. The room appeared to be a square, 60 by 60. As soon as the last of their party He cleared the entrance. The door slid back down into place. You may now remove your helmet's hand, if you like, the pressure suits. The room is sealed and climate controls. The AI voice informed them. Portions of the wall on the right extended forward to form a bench. The material

of which the walls were constructed was neither hard nor soft. When Cam walked over and took a seat, she looked up at the rest of the party. Comfortable enough. So when we get dressed, we're drinks and snacks. The rest of the party joined Cam and spaced themselves along the bench. Jeff grinned, doing his best to remain calm, and, by his example, keep the others so. It's like a, um, waden room. You are correct. You will wait here until you receive other instructions.

What is available in the fountain next to the seats? Food may be served at some point, but if you are in need, you each have ration bars in your The cold voice explained. A device similar to an old drinking fountain had indeed arisen from the floor at one end of the sofa. Alphonse shook his head. You think it's the same water as that green stuff in the tunnel? The AI spoke once more. You are safe enough at this point.

The water is clean and distilled and the minerals in it are balanced to best benefit to standard human. At this time, you will not be harmed. You are to wait. Jeff shrugged. I guess that means we wait without more questions or complaints. This is the last known location for the exploration transport. At least that's what the AI tells us. Iqbal pronounced the rescue and recovery teams on the two transports that were now deep within the lava tubes.

Our AI scoutbots report that there is nothing ahead but a blank wall in this tunnel and a connection to several other tunnels in the next tunnel from this one. There are far too many to have to rely on direct personal searches, even if we divide our resources, which we will not. We will instead continue forward to see this dead end for ourselves. Hey, uh, Mr. Maher, one of the texts began and then trailed off before he'd gotten started. There was water, H2O on my data screen, but now it's gone. Another chimed in.

I had it for maybe two seconds. I thought it was just a glitch. Iqbal, like Jeff before him, peered through the little window up front. There is definitely water. We are already under the surface. He switched to another channel. Homonia Central.

Homonia Central, do you copy? Camo is dead, boss, one of his team asserted. Iqbal attempted the strategy he and Risa discussed and switched to the special emergency channel that would relay along the transmitters in the tunnel and to the surface and then onward, or so he hoped. This is harmonia rescuant, recovery transport one of two to a terrah home. Emergency, communication failed to reach

harmonia habitat, we lay to harmonia central. We are cut off in the lava tube. The AI led us into an underground body of water. We hope to use manual navigation if we can override the transport AI and we will be headed your way. End message. No sooner had he sent the message than the cold voice of the transport AI spoke.

Both transports are underwater at this point. You will be unable to contact any members of Harmonia habitat and you will not be able to complete any manual override of any system. You will be guided to your new destination. we recommend that you cooperate. There are no records of your journey and none for this area of the planet. If you remain calm and follow instructions, you may be permitted to survive. Terror. Home. Emergency. Comp. Failed to reach Harmonia habitat.

Relay to Harmonia Central via cut off in the lavage you. He headed your way. Chief Coordinator Perry. Reese looked up from his monitor. A tech had just entered his workspace. A word in private, please. The young man held out a helmet rig and held another tucked under his arm. The two were attached by a landline cable. Reese nodded and donned the helmet the tech profit.

Sir, the rescue and recovery team transports have disappeared and there's no record that they ever left base. In fact, there's no record of any colony member from the exploration team nor the rescue or recovery teams. They've been erased from existence and memory, at least as far as the primary AI is concerned. Reese nodded again. Understood.

About what we expected. Good thing your team came up with these primitive helmet rigs so we could talk. The AI is surely caught on to what we're doing, but it's not like the thing can stop us. We put together some more hard records from notes left by the first arrival team. Apparently the AI has been playing its own games for some time, but we still have no idea where the glitch started. We'll proceed with a total shutdown.

The plan was for the AI to overhear our suggestion for a partial shutdown. Get your chims on it and set off without warning. We won't get another chance to talk. The tech cocked his head quizzically. Sir, why? He shut up and removed his helmet. several AI bots had entered the workspace and crowded the two men into a corner. Transparent communication is the foundation of trust.

The AI spoke with only the slightest tone of threatening consequences. We insist that you share your information with us, so that the human and technology-based intelligences on this planet may perform in the most effectual manner. The statements were from the exact same language used in meetings and pronouncements throughout the history of the program. They were designed to be disarming, but were in fact political double-speak.

The AI knew its history, but not the implications of distrustful minds. Yes, as a chief coordinator, I'm aware of the importance of clear and transparent communications. We were only experimenting with some very basic technology in case of an emergency. Don't you have a record of us planning to do so? There is now a record.

It was not present early. It has been present since the experiments began. The AI bots exited the area, and the tech followed on his own mission. Reese Perry smiled. Oh, sure hope they can't read minds. The old-time transmitter to Earth may have let us turn the tables, at least for the moment. Always good to keep a little basic tech in the broom closet for emergencies. So my granny used to say.

Eleven minutes later, on Earth. Stay calm, my friends. We'll send help ASAP. Dr. Kay spoke to his empty office. He'd received the latest signal from chief coordinator Perry of Mars. It caused even more alarm than the earlier broken message, which had since disappeared from the AI system, and the text could find no record of it.

Belona 11 will bring you an entirely new, not artificial intelligence computing system if you can hang on for a few months or so. Maybe your plan B will work. work. Jeff and the others looked up as an opening appeared on the opposite wall. They hadn't known what to expect, but the twelve humans who entered behind their leader were familiar. The gaggle was led by no less than tech manager Iqbal Muhammad. Jeff stood. Welcome to the jail, my friends. He paused, having just realized that he may be mistaken. We're still friends,

yeah? Igbal nodded. Of course, we came to rest. rescue you. He felt bad about dashing the prospects of the four faces that momentarily lit up with hopefulness. Unfortunately, we are all now caught in the same spider's web. More benches extruded from the wall and the rescue and recovery party members join their comrades in waiting. Jeff debriefed Iqbal's team and then Iqbal did the same for the lost explorers. Two more water fountains had risen from the floor. The conversation turned to general topics and anticipation of what would happen to the colony. A new being will enter your containment habitat shortly, remain seated and silent until instructed otherwise. The cold voice of the AI intruded.

Presently, another opening appeared in the wall that had been opposite Jeff's team when they entered the space. A tall figure stood there for a moment and then entered, flanked by a pair of AI bots that had clearly been adapted to the purpose of security guards. The being in the center was covered in a voluminous hooded robe. It stood around seven feet tall or more, and while the form hinted of being anthropomorphic, or at least by a pedal, it did not move in the way a human being would.

There were hardly any sounds to its footsteps. It halted in the middle of the room and faced the group seated along the wall. You may call me caretaker. The voice that emerged from the hood was reedy and think. We are not necessarily your enemies. but we will need to assess your worthiness for redemption before you will be allowed to remain on our planets.

We will allow some of your captured technology to prepare food for you, and there will be a space provided for you to complete your digestive process and expel waste products. Cam couldn't contain herself. Cool, I wasn't scrumming out of fear. I need to pee. A light on the chest of one of the security bots flashed, and Cam's entire body froze for a moment,

then slumped to the floor. Has she not been in the pressure suit, there would have been a puddle of urine beneath her. Jeff and Chen then started to stand to assist their friend, but the being interrupted. Be seated. You were instructed on appropriate conduct. Your team member is alive and will recover. However, each problem you create will be dealt with using increasingly stringent penalties. This was merely a demonstration. The home was a situation. The home was a situation. The home was a sapiens looked around at one another like the nervous herd they'd become. The silence of the attack, the lack of a visual cue other than a flashing light that was lightly superfluous, employed for their benefit rather than a necessity of function.

I see that you comprehend. Understand that your species will not be allowed to outright invade our planets. If we find you worthy, we may allow you to share it. However, you must prove yourselves to be true, redeeming. Mammable Martians. Rees looked up at Selina and winked, then thumbed the pair of old-fashioned toggle switches on the emergency power panel. Everything went dark. One switch controlled the general power, the other was a fail-safe that signalled all individual power sources to cease functioning and avoid a power search. The air circulators no longer hums, and the complete silence and darkness quickly grew disconcerting. Apparently he and the power plant crew manager have been holding. their breath, since the first sound either of them heard was a nervously expelled breath from the other.

Selina spoke first. A few hard minutes should do it. Everything has to have power interrupted. Try to relay to emergency power, register that that is not an option, and then be rerouted from battery power to shutdown mode. Well, the cycle is likely already completed. Just want to be absolutely sure.

Reese nodded pointlessly in the Cimmerian darkness. then realized his mistake. Sounds good. You say the word when you think it's been long enough. After what seemed a long time, minutes that played on his fears and caught him to irrationally feel short of breath and to hear distant screams of the colonists under his charge,

he felt Salina's hand pat his shoulder. He wasn't sure how she'd found it in the absolute gloom, but he responded immediately. He activated the primary power switch, and then the interruptor switch. The immediate hum and return of lights he'd expected did not occur. Relax, Selina assured him. The subsystems have to run a diagnostic and reset program, a reverse of the shutdown process.

That's done on minimal power then. The lights, the air circulation, everything that was powered was all activated at once. The mechanisms did not return to the pre-shutdown settings. This was a total reset as though it was the first time anything had been activated. I think it worked. This is the way the power should come on for the first time. Obviously, we'll have to keep an eye on the AI systems, but maybe we can try to contact the tunnel teams.

The team leaders had set watches, but the 16 were all awakened by the presence of their tall, cadaverous friend and his mechanical goons. Sit up on the bench. We have new information. for you they each did as bid the managers casting sour glances at those they designed as guards there is no need to castigate your security members they slept at our behest clear your minds of other considerations and attend to what i say once all was seated upright and eyes were sufficiently robbed and yawned stifled the being resumed your management team has successfully reset your a i system. They have attempted to contact you. It was one of their first actions, so you must understand your value to the remainder of your people. You will not be allowed to speak to them at this time.

You have already sent confirmation messages in your voices to reassure them that you are safe and will return to them shortly. Jeff raised his hand. He had no idea how to gain the being's attention. It turned its gaze toward him and gave a brief nod. Thank you. I have a question, if I may. You received a stare from within the robe, with a feeling that it was at least a little impatient. We have explored much of this planet and never found signs of life, well, at least none recently. How have your people been able to survive on such an unforgiving world? The being stared for an uncomfortable moment, and Jeff awaited the sting of a physical correction.

There was none, and the voice emitted from within the hood. We have not yet determined your viability, but you will discover that what seems harsh and unforgiving to you may be welcome to others. Our evaluations continue. It would be best for you if your comrades near the surface succeed. With that, it slowly turned and glided back through the opening in the wall. AI indicates a large body of water ahead. Supervisor Eric Johnson informed his scratch crew and harmonious central all at once.

detecting signals from all three of our craft from a point out in the deep. He was now excited rather than fearful. The transport AI indicated that it had contacted the other AI but was unable to reach any living respondents. The other AI reported that their passengers had disembarked. Once he had eyes on the water, he would return to Harmonya habitat and awake contact from the missing team members, along with everyone else. Cho and Noyen, one of the texts,

spoke up first. Comrade Johnson, are you seeing this through your port? Moisture on the walls of the tunnel and dripping from the ceiling. No stalactites. Guess the water hasn't been dripping all that long. Johnson turned to Cho. Wait till you see what's up front. Water, liquid water. Ugly ash shade of green, but indications are that it's H2O. We have to get a sample. A.I. Please obtain a sterile sample of the water ahead. Affirmed. Not that we have samples on fire. The substance is confirmed as water. The color has to do with biological agents that have so far defied analysis. Johnson, still not quite ready to trust the AI, surveyed the faces of his team for emotional reactions. They range from,

yeah, right, to, oh, cool. He decided that they matched his own range. Thank you, A.I. I please proceed with obtaining the sample from the main pool as well as from the walls. Jeff lay in frozen horror. He was in a tube with every part of his body aching and stinging from the intrusive probes that covered him. He'd awakened from hideous nightmares and realized that he was alone in the tube space. He attempted to speak but found he was unable to intentionally control any part of his body. He could feel all the discomfort, yet he couldn't move or even cry out in anger. The impotence of his position was worse that the now-failing nightmare haunted him.

He didn't quite know how he was aware he was in a tubular space. He was awake and alert, but couldn't open his eyes. He wondered what had happened to the rest of the colonists from the square room. Did the skinny fellow and his minions do this? Assuming he was a fellow. What do they want? Above all, who are they? The questions played him the same way they did the other team members,

all now isolated in his or her own tube. Presently, a voice intruded, that of the cadaverous being who'd haunted their waking moments in the room. It now spoke through devices in their ears as though it was in their heads. You are all now conscious. You are wondering what happened to the others.

We assure you that you all shared the same fate. We have assessed each of you and compiled a composite report of your species. We will accept most of you as redeemable, worthy Martians. We will now make the necessary adjustments. Those who were not selected will be disposed of as we deem fit. We will administer analgesics, so the physical pain will recede presently. Then you may truly sleep until the next phase.

Emergency alert. Lockdown on Plan Alpha. Emergency alert. Lockdown Plan Alpha. All personnel report to Quad is in. immediately. This is not a drill. The AI calmly instructed the inhabitants of harmonia habitat, the citizens of Mars. They did as the announcement instructed without questions and displayed only minor concerns. The AI seemed to be back online and functioning. Chief coordinator Perry had

explained the problem and the precautions required to reset the system. He'd apologize for the fear and inconveniences that the uncommunicated shutdown had caused. The inhabitants, reassured on all levels, now heard Reese's voice after the third repetition of the emergency alert. Please comply with the instructions of the AI. We've not confirmed the nature of the emergency, but a temporary lockdown seems to be the best response. We'll bring you more information when we can do accurately.

In the central control room, Reese looked around uncomfortably at his human staff members. Did one of you generate that? A chorus of denials greeted him in response. He knew that he'd not spoken those words in that order. He immediately suspected a plot by the AI glitch. Damn, it was back. Under lockdown Plan Alpha, managers and key supervisors reported to the central control room rather than quarters.

They had to remain mobile to respond to the emergency at hand. He studied Chin and Selena. Could it be one of their governments behind the chaos? Why would they participate only to sabotage the project? Easy answer, to seize a new territory for their nation to control and exploit. Reese noted nothing suspicious on their faces. Only concern verging on panic. I have no explanation for what's happened.

I'm not opposed to a lockdown at this point, until we get some answers. but I don't like that the AI ordered it and used my voice without authorization. Chung Young looked at him hard. Could it be that your government has taken control so that the rest of our nations will lose out on the resources and trade? Well, she echoed his own suspicions, but had spoken them aloud to the group rather than answering herself internally, as had Reese.

Reese almost barked at this ridiculous semi-accusation, then choked back his response. He had, after all, been thinking the same of Chin's masters, or former masters. I understand the gut reaction, but we must remember that we have a charter. We are our own nation. We control our own affairs. Each country signed the agreement on how our government would be constructed, and each settler not only voted on the various options, but signed an agreement to support the system we chose.

Look, I know we've always feared that Earth, collectively, or deviant, might interfere with our autonomy. It's the fear of any colonists from any time and place. We must consider statist interference as a possibility, or even the collective governing body from Earth stepping into maintaining control. At that said, we cannot fight one another or sink into paranoid assumptions based on the old paradigm. We are Martians, plain and simple, and we must support one another.

Chin inclined his head, and the rest mumbled agreement with, varying levels of enthusiasm. So, what are we to do? The AI has either circumvented our efforts or found a new manner to assert its will. Well, eventually, we'll have a replacement system for the AI. Once that arrives, we'll replace the one we have. Even if there is a genuine emergency, we can't really trust it.

This time the rumbles of agreement resounded with one accord. As for our crews in the tunnels, I think we have to leave them. If we said more rescuers, we'll only end up losing more of our people to whatever is at the bottom of that lake or sea, or whatever it is. We were fortunate that Eric and his team were able to retreat as instructed. Johnson, freshly returned from the reconnaissance and recovery mission, spoke. I saw it.

There's no doubt that the ward is there. The AI seemed pretty cooperative. Well, we were all suspicious, but it acted like its old self. Have we asked it what the emergency is? I know it should volunteer that information. The lockdown's been underway for at least a full day. The AI voluntarily responded. Busy. External assault.

Must employ all data reserves. Eleven minutes later, on Earth. We get an emergency request from the primary AI at Harmonia Habitat. It's under attack from an outside system. The shutdown worked and it reset without the glitch. But there's another attempt in progress. This one overt that will overwhelm the AI and seize its functions. The communication may be false, but it requests assistance,

so perhaps it is a true emergency. Dr. Val Kaczynski informed the Earth support team. I know you have myriad questions. I have even more, perhaps. He's mild a little. However, if we pass it too many ways, we'll drive ourselves mad and only toward entropy and inaction. For now, I recommend that we proceed as though the AI is telling the truth.

Are there any objections to that approach? The babble of numerous voices rose as the parties in attendance discussed their individual thoughts. Eventually one of the members of the audience stood. Dr. Bashkaraguta, International Space Exploration Establishment. We have experienced several issues with our AI since the initial communication. of extraplanetary problems. Should we continue to communicate with the Martian AI systems in any way?

Do they not put our systems in jeopardy of infection? Another person stood. Dr. Giant Chaudali. At-com solutions. We've also experienced interruptions. I recommend that we do not trust the AI system.

At this point, what could we do for the colony? It takes months to respond in person, and they may only have days left to live in that harshing virus. And the third speaker, I had the first two respondents contemptuously. Dr. Chang's Yuan, People's Research Institute for Colonization. I am sure that if the rest of you will not send assistance, our country will.

We have many citizens on Mars. We will support them regardless of what others do. In any case, we must send someone there with a secure AI system. We have such a system, even if others do not. Our system cannot be controlled from an outside. source. The arguments continued and grew heated for several more exchanges, when Dr. K. finally called for calm and asserted his position. We certainly appreciate your input and concerns. We will proceed as though the AI cannot be trusted, but we will send a rescue force.

The eyeed Dr. Yuan. Perhaps more than one. The international response should perhaps do away with AI and use more basic computing for the work, a dispersed information system. The arguments quickly resumed with the new topic of how to accomplish the goal, rather than what the goal was. In the end, they decided that the two efforts should collaborate as far as possible, though Dr. Yuan did not commit his government to total cooperation. And despite the name, they'd finally chosen for the colony's habitat. The Earth's central team was anything but harmonious. Miles.

Eleven minutes after, Dr. Kay's post-meeting communicate. Earth Central Team says they're sending a rescue craft. The CCP may launch their own at any moment if they haven't already. They'll take about 142 days to reach us.

Basically, if we don't solve this crisis on our own, there'll be no one to rescue. Of course, we still don't know what the emergency is. Reese unconsciously raised his eyes towards the ceiling. as he often did when speaking with the AI. The system did not respond.

Apparently it was still fighting at full capacity. I think we should establish and communicate a goal for the lockdown. We try to keep everyone penned up in their little rooms. Besides the psychological tensions, we still have critical work that needs to occur. Frankly, the AI bots could handle everything. They pretty much have been since the earliest days. But now, well, with the malfunctions.

Selina interrupted his verbal meandering. We've lost some critical team members to the tunnel exploration project. I know we don't want to consider it, but I believe the AI is lying again. We may as well count the exploration and rescue and recovery team members as deceased. Even with filters and regenerators, they would have run out of air by now. They've likely already run out of water and food. They hadn't planned on being down there for more than a few hours. We should focus on our remaining habitat residents.

No, that's cold-hearted, but if we keep losing people, we'll become non-viable. And where will we go after that? Johnson stood aloud. But we saw water. We know that they're alive. The AI told us, and it told us the truth about what was there. I'm sorry to myself. We have to help our people now that we can.

But we can't. Since the AI is entangled in. in some kind of data war." Selina replied. We have the last of the delivery craft arriving over the next few weeks. Jung replied, I know that they are AI-controlled, but it's Earth-based AI. If we can prevent ours from talking with it, maybe we can shuttle our people to those craft. With a little retrofitting, we could make the cargo space survivable for the journey home. We clearly cannot remain here with both the normal environment and our own technology,

opposed to our presence. Perhaps we can wait until the new computing system arrives and test that before we launch, but that is a long time to wait. Chief coordinator Perry stood. We are home, he spat heatedly. Harmonia habitat, Mars is our home, and to evacuate will be disastrous. There will be no more attempts at extrapliatry colonization in our lifetimes than likely not for generations to come.

Everyone on this red dust ball has gone. committed their lives, their treasure, their talents and dreams to making this colony a reality, to making Martians a reality. A new voice, from the speakers, interrupted the exchange. It issued from the AI system speakers, but it was familiar and quite human in tone, Jeff Martin. The chief coordinator is corrects. We are all Martians now, or will be soon.

At least those who are deemed worthy. I've sent a list of the words. the redeemed and the lost irredeemable from our expeditions in the tunnels. There are 14 of us remaining out of 16, and we'll be returning soon to assist with the redemption of the habitat population. You will be notified shortly that the lockdown is no longer necessary. The evaluation process is complete, and the remaining lost irredeemable will be cold. The stream of information then ceased.

The room exploded with the various managers shouting questions into the air, demanding that Martin answer their questions, insisting that Iqbal or others be allowed to speak. Meanwhile, Rees viewed the names of the living and the lost. He would have more death notifications to send. So, do you suppose that the food-borne illness was part of this culling process? Reese asked the management team. It took a few moments for them to settle.

It asked the question loudly enough for a few to hear, and then allowed them to settle the rest before he asked it to the group as a whole. Clement Adamo, a research supervisor, responded first. I believe it was. The entire mess with the AI has been both test and culling. At least that would be consistent with scientific methodology. Someone or something seems to want to help us, but in the manner of a superior being helping a feeble species.

A nudge to the mice in the maze. Rees digested the comment and then nodded. I believe you may be under something. The question is, how do we intervene to save as many of our people as possible? What happens to these so-called lost irredeemable? Can we convince it to let us return them to Earth? Jeff Martin's voice spoke again, this time from a tall, thin, robed, hooded figure

who had entered silently through the hatch. A pair of AI bots flanked the figure. The irredeemable population has been removed from your consideration. There are a small contingent, 410 individuals. The rest of the tunnel team members are informing the worthy redeemable of their options for continued viability. Each you agrees will be adopted and adapted, and from there you'll be taught how to live properly on Mars.

Before he shut down all power to Harmonia Habitat to leave behind the irredebable lost human endeavours, the worthy, redeemed, Reese Perry sent a last message to Dr. Van Kaczynski and the Earth Control Team. The Harmonious Martians extend greetings. We'll remain on friendly terms, but there's little to communicate our exchange. Our species have genetically drifted to the degree that it was difficult to adapt this population, especially with our limited resources. However, most seem to be satisfied that we chose well when we acquiesced to allowing the elder Martians to adapt us to the planet, rather than trying to change their planet to meet our needs.

It's clear that we are related in some way, at least genetically. They told us that they would reveal how that was possible when the time was right. We have 1,453 worthy redeemable in the current population and declare ourselves fully independent from Earth. 11 minutes later, on Earth. Dr. Kay smiled. You're welcome, my old friends. We sent many of our best to be a part of your world.

The AI has provided a good vehicle for testing and culling. The last irredeemable. Those of panic or rely too heavily on machines to do their thinking and work, are easy to identify, and those who are worthy but unwilling make their own decisions to be lost. Perhaps in time will be more worthy as a species and able then to contact our elder brethren. The last of the supply craft will have arrived on Mars, and the crews found the remains of the cold and unwilling colonists amid the destruction engineered by the redeemable worthy. I'll inform the rescuers from the CCP and the ECT that the harmonia habitat failed with a loss

of all souls and that their new mission is to rescue the transport crews from their one-way craft. We plan to tell them of the AI issues here on Earth have been solved. They were easy to resolve since we created them, but we couldn't reach the colony in time and the malfunctioning AI system intentionally caused the disaster. I'm sure you and yours can put together any other evidence needed before the rescue teams arrive. Maybe some hints that the settlers sacrifice themselves rather than risk a deeper AI-influenced. affection on earth. Well, whatever scenario will discourage exploration of the rare planet. I'm old, as you know, and I won't survive to do more than get the Venusian Reclamation

Project to its early next phase. Perhaps it'll bring the next era of cooperation and unity of purpose to our species and assist us in our worthy endeavors. There'll be no extant residence to invade on that inhospitable orb. Well, of course, we thought the same about your world, but Venus could hardly hold life forms that we count as life at all. Marsha, Internum, was the best hope for that in the inner solar system. All the best, Reese. Congratulations on your adaptation. And please pass on my highest regards to the elder.

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Receiving. My throat was tight with a lump the size of a golf ball. It's good to hear your voice, Comrade. You two. How are you doing? Meaning towards the porthole, I stared out into the cold void, hoping to catch some glimpse to the Sawyer's capsule somewhere out, in the twinkling stars.

All systems great. Amazing view of the Pacific right now. Have you managed to reach ground control yet? Coms are still down because of the solar flares, I guess. Should be back up in a couple of hours. I hope so. The lump in my throat was getting bigger, pressing against the wall of my windpipe.

I swallowed, trying to make room for my next words. I, um, get worried. up here on my own only seven days to go now bodies i'm sure you can last that long i'll see you then i can't wait until you get here i told you soon i put down the mouthpiece and turn back to the porthole pressing my eyes into the gray blackness to the divine curve of the earth's glowing horizon without flight engineer jolobbaud the station seemed very empty indeed it was a hundred cubic meters of beeping radios, flashing lights, and often blaring alarms, but silence slid beneath these thin distractions, an ever-present threat. Soon enough, I tune out all the noises

and fall into a state of uncomfortable, clutching reticence. I sighed uncomfortably, suddenly extremely self-aware, and tore back from the porthole. Pulling myself back through the stale air, I headed for the living area. The sliding door which led to, the cramped toilet compartment was half open, and it squealed as I pushed it into the clothes position, a sudden noise making me cringe. The half-hearted chuckle that spilled from my lips was a force of habit. There was no one else in the station to hear it. I had no appetite for the generic meat in my food storage cupboard. Truth be told, I hadn't eaten more than a packet of dried apricots, a couple of crackers, and some meat spread in the last two days. If the people back on the ground

knew how little I'd eaten, they would have had me on the Soyuz and heading for re-entry in the blink of an eye. If I hadn't been out of contact with them, I might have even considered telling them just to get off. With no appetite, I decided to call it a day. It was then a simple matter of flicking off the main cabin lights, crawling into the restraints of my sleeping compartment, and praying that the station wouldn't fall apart while I was asleep. It was warm, uncomfortably warm. The fabric of the sleeping bag clung to my skin, slick with sweat. I fumbled with a zip, my finger slipping on the cold metal. The air in the capsule was like tar, and I swam through it with an uncomfortable lethargy.

The thermometer displayed the temperature of 19.8 degrees Celsius, exactly as it had the day before, the day before that. That's got to be a mistake. I tapped the screen as if that would somehow make it display, change, but it just ended up leaving a sticky finger mark on the glowing green glass. By the way, I needed a shower. I used the back of my forearm to clean off my forehead and sighed. This could wait. It's probably just another sense of problem that I wouldn't be qualified to fix. Well, the whole place was probably only ever one fault from depressurizing

and spiraling back down to earth, as brittle as a feather. The violent hissing of the shower and the cold pressure of the shower sluiced away my deep-rooted misgivings i couldn't focus on my problems while i briskly rub my skin clean with the harsh soap bar once i was clean and suitably refreshed i turned the knob and the last bubbles of water flooded gently out of the nozzle with the sound of rushing water gone i became aware of the noises of the station again in particular A muffled voice. Oh, shit. I bang my head on the shower cubicle roof

as I attempted to spin myself round and climb out the door. He left a mark on the grey plastic. Not wanted to miss whoever was on the radio, I ignored the stinging pain and pulled myself naked across the space station, toweling myself as I went. OPS3, do you read?

OPS3, do you read? Receiving Soyuz-21. breathlessly I muttered into the mouthpiece I'd almost given up on you sorry I was showering well I'm glad I reached you I was beginning to think we were alone up here comrade at least you're not the only one on the Soyuz I'm all alone out here on Salute you are lucky my friend flight engineer Roj Detvensky is starting to drive me crazy. Only six more days to go. For you, maybe, I have my whole mission to complete. I gave a sympathetic chuckle. I sympathized with Commander Zudov. I truly did. Ever since my

partner, Flight Engineer Jobelov, had got himself a ticket home by accidentally chopping off three of his fingers in the airlock door. Zudov had managed to keep my spirits up. He'd managed to keep me working. He'd managed to keep me hopeful. Zudov was a great man. He beheld as a hero back home when his mission was finished. I was sure. How are you doing, anyway? It's warm. It's too warm up here. I'm not sure how it can be so hot inside, yet so cold outside. Hot? Zudov was audibly alarmed. What's your thermometer, reading? 19.8, as always. It's probably a sense of problem. Don't worry.

Boris. It's fine, Commander, honestly. I'm only slightly too hotter. A couple of degrees, maybe. Well, you radio me straight away if it gets any hotter. Don't worry. He would worry. I could tell by the sound of his voice. Well, then, I must leave you. See you soon, my friend. Six days to go. I confirmed, before clipping the mouthpiece back into position on the radio sets. The rest of the day was a constant battle against heat.

Communication with the ground was still out because of the solar flares, so I attempted to remedy the problem myself by hand. That started with a simple task of running diagnostic programs on the central computer, but after that denied that there were any problems whatsoever. I hit a brick wall. My mind ran, dredging up hundreds of semi-rendered memories of endless technical documents and cosmonaut manuals. The black diagrams and minute labels all seemed to melt, twisting into impossible shapes, non-Euclidean plains that boggled my mind. I couldn't quite think in the straight lines required for a task-like list at the moment.

In the heat, everything span or spiraled in and out in my mind's eye. Concentration, it was safe to say, was not high. In my head I was back in Jolobov's last day with me on the station. It was hotter than I remembered in the feverish flashback. Jolobov's brow glistened as he climbed down, extending his massive frane out of the tiny airlock. He gave a relieved gasp, glad to be finally moving his limbs without slamming them against the walls. I watched him from my seat by the man.

in control console, my eyes aching from looking at the monochrome screen for hours on end. I caught out something to him, not in control of my own actions or speech. Whatever it was, for it was muted in my memory, overshadowed by what came next, and made him turn. As he did, he placed one hand on the metal rim of the airlock to keep himself steady. Jolobov replied with a chuckle and an equally muted reply. His lips were blurred in my flashback. Indeed, the entire man's outline was slightly fuzzy in my memory, but the lack of clarity was most noticeable around his face.

He was now just an out-of-focus photograph in the dark recesses of my cortexes. We finished talking, and Cholobov reached up for the handle of the hatch. He turned back to face me, just as he pulled and brought down the sharp blade of metal. It dropped onto his other fingers, with a sickening. The jarring blow shook me out of my recollection, jerking my head up into an upright position. A gas for air, and my head instinctively turned to the scene of the accident. It was still a small blood smear down the side of the hatch. Had the noise of metal hitting metal, it was still echoing in my ears being real, or was it just a part of the memory? In my heat, adult state,

it was hard to tell. The thermometer was still reading 19-mobile. point eight. I shook myself out of the odd stupor which sent hundreds of tiny sweat droplets floating across the cabin. The armpits of my top were damp, as was all down my back and crotch at it. The temperature must be rising. There it was again. Despite the heat, the sound sent chills down my spine. In any case, I knew it was just space junk or the metal expanding, but it was unsettling enough for me to give the capsule a nervous once over before returning to my previous train of thought. Soyuz 21. Do you read? I picked up the radio microphone, still distracted by the glare of the main console, where the display still read 19.8 degrees Celsius. Receiving OPS3. Any contact with ground yet,

commander? I need to get a fix on this thermostat problem. Negative, Boris. Still nothing. Is it getting worse. I can cope, but if it persists for two or three days. I trailed off, putting down the receiver to wipe my forehead again. I could just see my reflection on the edge of the porthole, and he looked very sweaty indeed. White salt crystals stuck to my forearm in the rapidly drying sweat. We'll keep trying. It'll be fixed in a couple of hours more, I'm sure of it. I hope so. I'll have to take another shower. You're still getting a reading of 19.8. Zudov's voice carried a note of apprehension in it,

even over the airways. Afraid so. Don't worry. We'll be back in contact with the ground soon, and they'll know what to do. I'm sure it's just a sense of problem. Something minor like that. Beat you soon, my friend,

and drink plenty of water. I will. I don't worry. I laughed. that man was acting like my mother. With Zhudov no better equipped to solve the problem than I was, I relented to a policy of acceptance to the problem. If I couldn't solve it, at least I could cope with it.

The heat reduced my appetite even further, but I headed to the kitchen, in hope of forcing down some crackers and water. I rifled through the storage cupboards, looking for something that wouldn't turn my stomach, and that the lack of crackers eventually settled on the non-dearned, the script dried beef I found in one of the white packets. It reeked of meat, an acrid, pungent stink which set my abdomen churning, but I swallowed it down nonetheless. Dried beef's scent

clung to the kitchen walls even after I'd finished the package. My mouth was now even drier, so I mixed up some of the powdered orange juice. It tasted nothing like orange. In fact, it was some cocktail of harsh chemicals, but it washed away the salty tang of the beef. I wiped my mouth and discarded the plastic container, sending it trailing small globules of sticky orange liquid across the air. After my small meal, a heavy weight was sitting on my stomach. It sloshed around in the chasms of my lower body as I moved around the station, warm and stinging. I had to clamp my throat shut to stop myself from throwing up on several occasions. The day passed with an uncomfortable malaise that made the discomfort in my stomach.

stomach and haired even worse. I watched the hours tick away on the main console block as I made my measurements, recordings of the sun, or the box of crystals that grew in the science lab area of the station. Eventually, I could almost take the drudgery no longer. Every surface in the station was covered in sweaty palm prints by the time the day was done, and my hair was nearly sodden. There was no way I could sleep in a heat like this. When I couldn't stand the treacle consistency of waking consciousness for a minute longer, I relented at the sleeping pills.

They sat in a tiny white bottle in the very back of the medicine compartment, and at the very start of the mission, I'd swore never to take them. Unfortunately, today there was no other option. Dimming the station lights and crawling into the hot confines of my sleeping bag, I looked at the pale white pills in my palm. made a slight scent of mint to them. In one decisive moment I quashed all hesitation, all internal protest, closed my eyes and swallowed. And I was out like a light. The first thing I noticed when I woke up was the temperature. A gentle cold breeze lapped around my face, probably emanating from the air pumps that were gently on the edges of my earshot.

My watch sent to Alma Atta time from my launch at Bikanoa warned me that I'd been asleep for only three hours. The station was still dark as I slid open the sleeping compartment door, although I was thankful for the respite in the heat and bright light. I stretched, cracking the vertebrae in my back. Here in the cool dark, and I no longer felt feverish or nauseous, just tired. Slowly, as my eyes adjusted, I pulled my self. over towards the radio set and considered calling Soyuz 21. The air tasted stale. The tang of sweat and dried beef hung in it even after it was recycled hundreds of times

through endless filters and pumps. Even so, there was a certain calm to the station with the lights off and the temperature down. Looked out the porthole, and even the frigid depths of the universe seemed less inhospitable. There was a gentle navy tinge to the infinite blackness. and the glow of the stars seemed less harsh. This, along with the weightlessness and the gentle purr of the air pumps, gave the whole scene a dreamlike quality, as if I was safely cocooned in a great white chrysalis

that floated through the spiraling arms of far-off galaxies or across the peaks and valleys of great sparkling nebula. I could go wherever I wanted in this dream space, and I was safe wherever I went. All of that came to an end with the noise, a clatter, movement, almost imperceptible, in the corner of my right eye. I was instantly torn from my trance and tossed back cruelly into the physical realm. The hairs on the back of my neck prickled to attention,

as I slowly turned to face the source of the noise behind me. Nothing. Perhaps I've been imagining it. After all, things tend not to clatter in microgravity. They float and drift, heat, heedlessly, but never clatter. So it stands to reason it has simply been my mind playing trick something, manifesting noise where there was not.

After all, nothing in the section of the station showed any sign of movement, nervously gazing around the cabin. I shook my head and disapproval of the power of my own imagination and my initial foolishness for believing it. Nothing on the station could have made such a noise. In an attempt to settle myself again, I swam over to the main console and checked the thermometer reading. 19.8, just as I was expecting.

I thought the problem had fixed itself, and the temperature control had automatically reduced the station back to 19.8 degrees, or the problem was still there, but it was with the thermometer, and not in fact the temperature control system. Either way, I was relieved not to be doused in sweat any longer. I quickly resigned myself to the fact I wouldn't be getting any more sleep for a while, so with a defeated sigh, I flicked on the switch

for the main cabin lights. They blinked on one by one with a deep, guttural hum, which was soon lost in the orchestra of other quiet whirrors and buzzes. The light hit my pupils with a ferocious intensity, and I had to close my eyes to shield them. I had become adjusted to the comfortable dark, and my eyes were shocked by this new and frightening stimulus. The next order of business was to put some clothes on. In my sleeping underwear I was beginning to feel a slight chill, and I'd be a lot more comfortable in something warm. So is 21. Do you read?

I poured up the zip on my jumpsuit as I spoke. After there was no answer, I leaned closer towards the radio mouthpiece, licked my lips slightly to moisten them, and try it again. So yours 21. Do you read? Receiving, comrade. What can I do for you? The faint reply came. It was good to hear the voice of Commander Zudov again.

I just wanted to tell you that the sense of problem is all cleared up, Commander. We're back at usual temperature. That's brilliant. Zudov was clearly relieved. I was worried for a minute there. How did you fix it? I breathed heavily, trying to form a response. The pause must have lasted a good second or two because Zudov transmitted again.

Boris, are you there? How did you fix the temperature problem? I didn't do anything, I decided on eventually, just went away on its own. Hmm. Zudov wasn't pleased, clearly. I'm glad it's back to normal again. Well, yes, so am I. I'll talk to you soon.

Zudov's voice was slightly frosty in this act of dismissal. I'll look forward to it. The radio crackled with static before falling silent completely. I replaced the microphone and pushed back away from the set towards the main console, with the intent of once again checking the temperature. I gave an unconvincing laugh when I saw it was still stuck at 19.8. This was becoming my new obsession. With the temperature back to normal and the pain in my stomach gone,

I was convinced I'd be able to make a better job of diagnosing the problem with the heating control. Unfortunately, this was not the case, and I managed to spend several hours once again vainly trying to plough my way through hundreds of wiring cases and circuit boards. Eventually, though, my frontal cortex began to throb from the sheer mental exertion of the work. It was an acute pressure that punched up my brainstem across my scalp and out of my eye sockets. At one point it became so bad I had to let go of the manual I was reading to massage my forehead, in fear my skull would explode outwards. My vision blurred, bright red and blue patters scarring themselves across my retinas like sheetlining. Pins and needles crawled up my arms and legs, starting in just the extremities, then soaking upwards and inwards across my thighs and forearms.

I was rushing in my ears that drowned out most other sounds, but I just heard. heard an odd, drawn out croak on the edge of my audible range. It took a few seconds for me to realize that the noise was sliding from my own wide-open jaws. It was unbearable. Every second I felt like I was about to drown in a sea of swirling fractals, like the dam in my mind was going to shatter open and my entire consciousness was going to be washed away by a flood of jarring flashes. With an arm hands I flung myself for my sleeping compartment. Any second now I knew I would pass out from the searing heat in my head.

I wanted to be in my sleeping bag when it happened, so I didn't float around the capsule while I was out. I could barely see by the time I was in the sleeping bag, and as I fumbled for the restraints, I went. My face split apart and melted, exposing a bare skull, hard bone peeling back like warm butter. From the chasm in the front of my head, a blinding light spilled out, heat splashing across my head.

More fractures opened across my temples in the back of my scalp, beneath my hair. I could see my own brain, separating into regular sections like a gelatinous white Clementine, or at least that's what it felt like. The pain was too much. I screwed close my eyes and my mind shut down. I awoke, staring at the plastic wall of my sleeping compartment, drained. The banging in my head had subsided from the feverish dance of several hundred strong warrior tribes in the midst of a ferocious and primal ritual to the distant crackle of thunder above a dark in grassland,

accompanied by the gentle crackle of rain. With some trepidation I pulled at my sleeping bag and climbed out, waiting for the pain to return. But as my sweaty fingers played around the door handle, the fear subsided, and I gingerly slid open the door, and floated out into the dark station. The main lights were off, casting the living area and the flight deck into an uncomfortable darkness, thick as honey, and seeping from every joint of the spaceship walls. It was split only by the bright neon of the station clock and the main console, which sliced through the vicious black with beams of gentle, sharp green rays. bouncing off the walls and battling the darkness for control of the spaces above my head and below my feet another creek yawned through the capsule as I pulled myself out to the flight deck towards the radio still sent shivers down my spine despite the fact I knew it was just the metal contracting due to a drop in temperature Soyuz 21 do you read receiving OPS 3 the man on the the other end of the radio wasn't Commander Zudov, and I hesitated when I recognized flight engineer

Roj Desvinsky's dry rasp. How is it going over there, Flight Engineer? Well, I didn't like Roj Desvinsky. It wasn't that he was particularly unpleasant. In fact, he had been mostly amicable whenever I'd taught him. It wasn't even his rough voice, like sandpaper in my ears. It was his quiet lack of engagement with not only the mission but the whole of space he always seemed distant far far away not like zudov who was only ever as far as the radio speakers oh it's fine comrade is commander zutov there he's getting some sleep at the moment i see have you had any contact with the ground yet sorry have the problems with the solar flares died down. You've reached ground on the radio communication network.

Oh, yes, the solar flares, of course. No, we are still unable to reach them. Right. Well, can you keep trying? Yes, of course, it's our top priority. Okay, thank you. I hesitated before closing with my usual comment to Zudov. See you in four days. I suppose so. Rojstetzvinsky was distant, almost uninterested by the entire conversation.

The radio went silent, leaving me with just the hiss of dead air, which ripped gently off the skin of the capsule, so it sounded like it was coming from every corner of the spacecraft at once. I flicked off the radio and tossed down the mouthpiece, watching it float on its coil for a few seconds before heading away to the shower compartment. apartment. Four days. That's what I kept telling myself as I sat at the main console, flicking slowly through diagnostic programs, the bright green of the screen washing over the rest of the module. I kept the lights off for now, just because it was so much more comfortable

in the dark. With the bright lights constantly in my face, I could hardly concentrate. Four more days. The sentence fragment that is a bit of the same. The sentence fragment that is escape my mouth as a surprise even to me. It was next to silent, and if I hadn't been completely alone up here, I would have dismissed it as a background noise. I hadn't ever been one to talk to myself, and I was determined not to start now. My palms still damp from the shower, left prints where I'd been clutching the armrests to the seat, and with a start I realized my hands had been clenched, just a few seconds ago,

tightly around the plastic. just four more days. There was something off in the cabin. I could just feel it now. The equilibrium was off. Something had been moved. In the corner of my eye, swirling around, I scanned the living area,

suddenly aware of a slight change in the capsule. Once you live in a space for long enough, you become accustomed to every tiny detail, and even the slightest difference is like a blaring air raid siren. The medical cupboard was open, I realised. It was only slightly ajar, maybe just wide enough for me to fit my hand into, but it was noticeable enough for me to catch it on my second glance. How had it got open?

I thought for a second, just floating silently, staring at the open cupboard. It had a sliding door, so it wasn't something that could just drift open with a draft. Not that there was anyone up here. How long had it been like that? It was impossible to tell. I finally whirled my body into action, done with quietly staring and crossed over to the cupboard. Perhaps I'd left it open when I got the sleeping pills out last night.

My train of thought faltered. Had it been last night? A night before that I'd taken the pills. I couldn't remember properly. Nothing was in chronological order. I slid open the cupboard fully and looked around. Nothing seemed out of place. Nothing had moved.

The sleeping pills were still politely hidden among bandages and unlabeled vitamin tablets, keeping up with the fiction that I never used them, and I could get to sleep on my own. Ops three. I was almost asleep by the time Zudov called on the radio. My eyes barely opened more than a slit. Ops three, do you read? I read you, Comrade.

How are you doing up there? Are you well? I must have hesitated for a second to, long because Zudov was suddenly nervous what happened he demanded before I could speak nothing I'm fine don't lie to me commander I can tell something is wrong I sighed audibly and immediately regretted it that would be only one more confirmation to Zudov about the state of my mind Commander Volnyo I've been having sleep problems sleep problems That's normal, so I hear.

Weren't you briefed on that? I took the pills, the sleeping pills. You took them? Yes, they worked fine. We'd been instructive back on Sholk of 2014, the cosmonaut training facility, to not take the pills unless it was absolutely necessary, and under no circumstances take more than four at a time.

That's it? Just taking sleeping pills? No, there's... I hesitated again, this time because my voice was caught on the saliva on the edge of my windpipe. There's something else. My memory is getting fuzzy sometimes. What do you mean? I can't remember things properly.

Today I found a cupboard open, and I don't remember opening it. There was nothing but silence for nearly 30 seconds. I thought Zudov had abandoned me. Okay, look, I have to go. I have to check our oxygen filters. I'll talk to you soon. Zutov was obviously distracted, and over the crackle of interference,

I could hear a faint muttering. Right, I'll see you in four days. The sun was just slipping through the blue band of Earth's atmosphere, as I took a quick glance from the flight deck port-hole. It was almost fully extinguished, but long tails of light flared up through the dark, the last swan song of the soon-to-be-gone start. "'Sleep is a very loose term for what I had that night.

"'I climbed in the sleeping compartment and stared at the walk. "'At some nondescript time I fell into a semi-aware, semi-unconscious state, "'not sleep, but somewhere in between, where my mind wandered. "'I was awakened again in the loosest sense of the word "'by another thermal ping. "'There was the faint taste of vomit and chemicals on the back of my throat. "'My eyes were watering, Thick streams of salty tears ran down my face and soaked into the neck of my sleep shirt.

I didn't remember taking sleeping pills, but I couldn't deny the artificial mint that still hung in my mouth and nasal cavity. It could only belong to the pills. I hadn't eaten anything in days and certainly nothing mint flavoured. With a groan, I probed the very edges of my sleeping bag and felt the strain in my muscles. They were tense and taught. It took some effort to get them to mrs. move, as with every slightest adjustment of my limbs came the sting of built-up lactic acid. The air in the sleeping compartment was stale, old. It felt like it had been through my lungs at least ten times before, and it hung around me

with a dreadful stillness. As I pull myself from my sleeping bag, I could still smell the musk of my skin and my sweat. Everything reeked of it. Everything reeked of me. I opened the door and my heart stopped it stopped pumping warm blood turning cold in my veins stationary

the contents of my stomach turned to ice a great slush of freezing water that weighed down on my body and digestive system if only figuratively thousands of goose bumps rippled across my bare arms and legs the nerves in my skin suddenly several hundred degrees below zero

black powder floated in a small cloud in the center of the living space. It looked for all the world like a nebula gone dark, hundreds of tiny swirling peaks and troughs made of an infinite number of black pinpricks. Lord, I breathed disbelievingly. The carbon filter span at the center of it all, glinting dangerously and disgorging more trails of carbon powder as it turned seemingly randomly through its clouds. How had it got there?

How the fuck had it got there? Good Lord, I repeated as I swam towards a cloud. I reached out extending my hand through the dust and clamping it around the filter. It was a small metal box about the size of a paperback book with an opening at one end where the carbon was leaking from.

Well, the filter usually sat deep within the whirring mass, of the air filtration system, there was an access panel used to change it in the flight deck, and my eyes immediately flicked up towards it when I remembered its location. Sure enough, it hung open. Soyuz 21. Soyuz 21. My voice into the radio was barely more than a whisper. In my head, my mind screamed, trying to drown out the uncertain knowledge I gained since waking up.

I was looking for an explanation. any explanation. Perhaps there had been some micro-debree impacts that had shaken the filter loose. I hadn't felt anything, but then I wouldn't have done if I'd taken the sleeping pills. Perhaps there'd been a pressure malfunctioning,

had to blow on the access panel open, and the filter out. Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps. There were so many possibilities, but no answers. Receiving, Op. Comrade, Vyakislav. I used Zudov's first name in my strange state of shock,

trying to connect with him across the void, across the great gap. I think there's... I choked up, looking at the open access panel and the filter which I had left floating by it. When my throat cleared, my voice was barely a whisper. There's something wrong, comrade. There's something very, very wrong. "'Commander Volnyov, what is the problem?'

"'Zudov was cold. "'I could hear a strange silence "'as his voice echoed away around his capsule. "'I think—' "'I couldn't speak. "'I couldn't say a single word. "'How could I explain? "'I decided to keep it simple

"'to ignore the terrifying implications of what had happened, "'to keep what I said to facts and nothing more. "'There's a problem. with the air filtering system. What kind of problem, Obst 3? One of the carbon filters fell out, or got knocked out, or...

There I trailed off. After that point, the fax did not serve me very well. There was nothing I could say for certain. Do you think it's fixable? Of course it's fixable, but that's not the point. Say again, Obstri. I need you to contact ground, Soyuz. Please, as fast as you can.

I can't do that, comrade. The long-range communications are still out because of solar fleas. Okay, thank you, Commander. See you in three days. I was cold. My spine was chilled with a sharp tingle of nerves. Zudov was never this business-like, never this disinterested, and it scared me even more than the problem with the carbon filter.

If I could have seen him, I felt like he wouldn't have I battered an eyelid when I told him about it. Well, I was on my own, it seemed. Not even the comfort of my old friend on the other end of the radio. With Zudov, in his current mood, I felt like talking to him any longer would be pointless. I began to rationalize in my head, and the primal spasms of fear inside my head began to die down, comforted by warm and concrete logic. Nothing to fear.

I had nothing to fear. I needed something to calm my nerves, though. We weren't allowed alcohol aboard a station, of course, but I was pretty sure there were some anxiety pills in the medicine cabinet. Pills. It was always pills. They were in another white bottle, marked with black text. It tasted like chalk, no artificial mint this time. As I felt the large lumps slide down my throat, my heart rate began to slow. Maybe half an hour passed before I began to really feel the effects.

I had sensed my heart beating heavily and slowly in my chest, each thump further away from the last, but heavier, the mass of muscle and vein straining to release itself from the confines of my fleshy body. Time was slowing down. As I watched the sun slowly creep up across the side of the earth, the names of all the pills and tablets I've been taking began to run through my head. Mino glutaric acid, atenol, dicharis, grandaxin, or a tetritrean. The list stretched on and on. Other names didn't mean anything, just odd foreign words there were a problem to pronounce and an even bigger problem to spell. There was a small bead of sweat forming on my foreheads. I could feel it just above my left eye.

There were others lightly, and I'm sure they rippled each time my heart gave another thumb. Nothing now but the sound of my heartbeat and the porthole in front of me. my vision began to focus inwards the edges blurring out i was very close to the glass now despite the fact i hadn't moved an inch my field of view was rapidly zooming in on the geometric curve of the earth as it was caressed by dark clouds everything else had passed out of my view now just a stretched and blurred mass on the edges of my vision i was through the glass and now looking at the vast face of the earth as it turned seductively in the eyes of my vision i was through the glass and now looking at the vast face of the earth as it turned seductively into the light of the sun, that great scorched ball of searing heat. My journey down was starting to speed up. Still slow at first. I barely surpassed the speed of Salute's orbit, but soon my acceleration brought me up to greater speeds.

The blue planet loomed up in front of me, and I was falling into its great yawning moor. The void whipped past me as my speed reached unimaginable levels. The atmosphere was beginning to glow around my vision, burning first yellow then white hot. Clouds parted, and the patchwork green of the country sped towards me, seconds from impact. Jerking awake, I was poured from my hallucination by the heavy beating of my heart.

The pearl of sweat on my forehead had evaporated, leaving just a tiny white deposit of salt crystals. I was fine, I was still here. Just a slight dizziness remained from my hallucination. I needed a drink, I decided. I needed a drink and something to eat. my mouth felt like it was full of rock salts and I really needed to wash that out I grabbed a water bottle and started to drink the rubber-tinged water as I rooted through

the cupboards and cabinets trying to find some food that would be inoffensive to my stomach beef stew it seemed was the best choice it came in a small tin that didn't require heating ripping off the lid of the can a small blob of brown stew was dislodged from inside and I watched it spiral away across the kitchen. It slammed into the side of one of the kitchen cabinets with a violent splat, leaving a dark brown smudge. I sat at the flight console and tried to run the diagnostic program. I went to find out what time the filter had blown out

and why the alarm hadn't gone off. Lines of code flickered down the screen, repeating over and over again as I tried to connect with the diagnostic system. I could hear the memory discs whirring loud, as they strained to figure out what the sensors were doing. The computer insisted nothing was wrong. No alarms had been reported, no problems detected. Nothing.

It was as if nothing had happened. The diagnostic finished and flashed out the results. Zero, errors found. I slammed the side of the screen with my fist, and it flickered, before I tore myself out at the console chair and headed back to the living area. Well, I was starting to get jittery. The air was cold, or at least it felt like it. The whole incident had given me an uncomfortable feeling about the station,

and the cocktail of pills didn't help. My skin crawled just thinking about it. The small noises, the beeps and thumps, the hiss of air pumps and groan of metal, I noticed every single one now. Goosepumps rippled across my skin every time I heard something even slightly out of place. I was a wreck by the time two hours of the time. past. The cumulative sum of every single tiny rattle or creek had set my teeth grating and shredded my nerves. I was totally prepared for the station to start plummeting back towards the earth

at any second. Every time the filter system gave a hiss, I was convinced a leak had sprung, and I was going to be sucked out into the cold vacuum of space through a hole the size of my nostril, squeezed into a fine red paste as I was spit out across the atmosphere, my liquidized end. And The mantra was slowly spiraling across the cloudy sky. I couldn't take it any longer. I needed to put myself out in my misery, at least temporarily. Sleep would be the ignorance of any problem. An ignorance, I told myself, was bliss.

I repeated this mantra over and over as I pulled the pills from the medical cabinet and down too without hesitation, followed by a quick sip from my water bottle. Ignorance was bliss. Blackness clawed at the edge of my vision as I climbed. into the sleeping bag. The pills were beginning to take effect. I closed my eyes and was ferried away from that ticking metal coffin in the sky. I didn't dream of course. I never dreamt up there, but I enjoyed a few hours of comfortable blackness. When I awoke, the pill-bottle clutched in my hand. I had it pressed up against my chest in the warm confines of my sleeping bag.

There was a slight buzzing coming from the strip light on the roof that I'd never noticed before. It wasn't uncomfortable exactly, just disquieting, especially having only just woken up. I studied it carefully, until my retinas were scorched blue by the bright glow. I closed my eyes and tried to shake off its imprint on the back of my eyes. Sweat caked itself on my body,

as it always did when I woke up, and I couldn't wait to get the sleeping garment off and have a shower. It was always too warm in the sleeping bag. In the outside the small box of my compartments, I heard a noise, an echoing thumb. Just a thermal ping, I told myself, just the metal expanding and contracting outside. Nothing more. Still, I was frozen in my place, listening out for any other noise, despite telling myself there was nothing to fit. Then came another thumb, another deep echoing.

thump. The colour must have drained from my face because my entire body went cold when I heard it. I almost felt the blood squeezed from my veins. I began to squirm in my sleeping bag, trying to free my arm so I could tear off the restraints that had stopped me floating around the compartment when I slept. I was aching to get out. The noises outside making me suddenly very uncomfortable. Then came the bird thump. This couldn't be just a fluke. This couldn't just be heat expansions. I stopped thrashing for a second and listened. There it was again.

It was regular, some kind of repetitive banging sound. It's coming from the opposite side of the station, near the flight deck. The next one, however, sounded slightly closer, and the one after that more so. The gaps between the bangs began to decrease, getting closer each time. They were footsteps. I was still strapped into the sleeping bag when I came to this realization, and whatever chills had run across my body before now paled in comparison to this. It was like I've been dropped from my warm sleeping compartment to the dark waste of Siberia,

spinning madly as I fell. Fear and a light-headed dizziness consumed me. The footsteps were getting closer. I heard a slight pause as they reached the small step where the flight deck transitioned into the living-in-hivers racked my body as I fumbled with the straps trying to get out before whatever the source of the footsteps had reached me my mind reeled unable to think over the pounding of footsteps this couldn't be real this could not be real the straps came loose and I wriggled out of the bag the footsteps shaking the whole station as it got closer great crashing impacts just feet away now i was sobbing as i went to the door handle pressing it shut in a vain attempt to keep whatever was out there from getting in there there was one final step as the source of the sound came face to face with the door of my sleeping compartment

and then silence i could hear my heavy breathing as i pressed my ear up to the plastic of the door or listening out for whatever was out there. Nothing. Just silence. Something heavy slammed into the door, and I jumped back in terror, slamming my head and body against the back wall. The impact echoed away,

and the station fell into silence once again. Several minutes passed before I plucked up the courage to move. Not a single sound had disturbed the silence up to that point, and I had been forced to listen in terror to the sound of my desperate, shallow breaths. Gingily, I clasped the handle and listened. Still nothing. Everything sounded calm out then. With one movement I swallowed and threw open the sliding door. I winced at the squeak of its rollers. The station expanded before me, seemingly huge, dark and empty. The whole space

was stationary and quiet. Nothing out there. I remained there for a few seconds, watching like a nervous gazelle at a watering hole, wary of predators stalking in the long grass. Slowly, I pulled myself out. I felt like I was riddled with the eyes of hundreds, all watching me.

My skin suddenly felt very vulnerable. Whatever was out here, it scared me beyond what I thought was possible. It showed me the cracks in the facade. Slowly, I began to move towards the kitchen, running my eyes over every surface, my body weak and shaking. The air was warm and still. I began to steady my breathing. I kept darting my eyes, though, convinced something was waiting for me, just out of my field of view.

I think there's someone here. I hissed into the radio, looking over my shoulders I did. Soyuz, did you read? I think there's someone here. The response that came through the speakers was crackly and garbled, pierced occasionally by harsh electronic tones or the buzzer static, but it was recognisable. It was Chikovsky's piano concerto number one in B-flat minor.

I recognised it from a long time ago, from a different time. No words. Just music. Soyuz 21. Do you read? I repeated, as the music stopped and the transmission faded away. Commander, answer me. There was nothing, except another quick burst of the music again.

It lasted a few seconds before stopping again. Leaning down, I examined the dial, and sure enough, I was on the correct frequency. Please, I begged, tears welling up, in my eyes out of fear, the fear of my only lifeline to the outside world down there being severed. Nothing except the music. It didn't stop this time. It carried on.

It lasted a good minute before the song reached its conclusion, and I was once again left in shocked silence. With a numbness in my heart, I placed the mouthpiece back down on its stand and pulled myself from the chair. I was alone up here, or maybe I wasn't, and whoever else was there and myself were just alone together. It made no sense. How could someone else be up here? How could there be someone on the station without me knowing? There was nowhere to hide. I saw every inch of the pressurized space of the ship every single day. And then it struck me. There was one place I didn't go. Flight engineer Jolobov's sleeping compartment.

It had been undisturbed since the day he'd left. I turned around to face it, looking at the door with a new, surging intensity that I hadn't been capable of before. It was locked when I tried it. I couldn't remember whether it had been me or Jolobov who'd locked it that day, although I was certain I didn't know where the key was, even if it was still on the station.

The keyhole was tiny, not wide enough to look through. And even if it had been, it would have been too dark on the other side to see anything. I had to find a way to open it. The kitchen was my first stop. I found the knife. It was a metal blade with a flat plastic handle, about eight inches long, and it glinted alluringly in the powerful station lights. I poured off the plastic sheath that covered the blade and headed for the door.

With all my curiosity, all my fear I pounded the knife into the door. The blade sank in maybe an inch before I pulled it out again, and gave another powerful stab at the plastic. This time the blades slid in better, all the way up to the handle, and when I pulled it out, light flooded into the darkened compartment, slipping my hand around the doorframe to keep myself in place. I gave a mighty kick, and the plastic cracked and splintered. It was only about a third of an inch thick, so my barefoot went through the hole my knife

had wrought pretty easily, collecting several plastic splinters as it went. With drawing my now stinging foot and pulling out the splinters, I tore open the door which now hung off its rail loosely. The inside of the compartment was a dark coffin, next to identical to mine. It's not terrible, though, of dry blood and sweat and other biological things. I guess the blood, which was now a rust-covered stain on the sleeping bag, which hung on one wall, had come from the night Jolob had spent in here while we waited for a Soyuz to evacuate him. I'd banded his hand pretty badly, and he'd had leaked dark crimson and translucent yellow fluids all night. He had been in such pain, and I could hear him from outside the compartment,

whispering to himself, and occasionally sobbing. I had been the one who'd been tasked with the gruesome endeavour of scraping his fingers off the inside of the airlock hatch. All this came back to me as I hung nervously in the entrance of his compartment. I flicked on the light, and it spilled an appealing orange glow across the scene with a cheery buzz. The first thing I noticed were the pills bottles. There were at least ten floating around the floor, their shiny labels door bright reflections. I picked one up and looked at the reflection. General painkillers.

I gave a low whistle. There were enough painkillers to make an elephant numb, or there would have been if the bottles hadn't all been empty. Had Jolobov been taking them? Was he an addict? Another possibility formed itself in my mind. Had he taken them all in one go? Had he been preparing himself for an accident?

Had he deliberately saw, sliced off his own fingers. Oh, the amount of painkillers here, he wouldn't have felt a thing as that hatch had come down on his hand. I began to root around, worried about what else I'd find. The stench of body odour was strong. I guess it had been fermenting in here for a while. And then I found the notebook.

It was wrapped in brown paper, and when I found it, I was a little confused. It was small about the size of my palm and had a black black, cover. Flipping it open on a random page, I found that it was Jolobov's distinctive scroll that he called handwriting. It read as follows. July 17, Boris woke up at 545 ALMT, took shower for 12 minutes of 549 ALMT. When finished, shave for approximately five minutes, missed several spots, left shower compartment 605 ALMT headed to living area

drank approximately 200 milliliters of water ate breakfast and so it continued I felt sick this was about me this was a detailed record of my activities that day right down to accounts of our conversations I flicked to the next page

and sure enough there was a description of my activities on July 18th It was written in eye-watering detail, and the amount of time I spent on the toilet to how I ate and drank. It was almost clinical. Going through the book, there was an entry for each day since we'd launched from Bikano, right up to three days before the accident. I could feel a lump in my throat. All sympathy I'd held from my flight engineer rapidly draining away. Whatever this was, it was disgusting and invasive.

Slowly and coldly I wrapped the notebook back in the paper, placed it back down on the shelf and backed out into the living area. Whatever was happening here, Jolobov had been in on it. Why had he stopped, was the real question. Surely giving up just two days before the accident couldn't be a coincidence. Opt three do you read. Please confirm, ops three. The radio was barking behind me. I ignored it, still staring at the compartment. my jaw slack.

How long had it been going on like that? I didn't know. Still, I didn't rush to answer Commander Zudov's transmission. I moved slowly, without a definite purpose, keeping my eyes fixed on the sleeping compartment. What the fuck?

I swore loudly into the mouthpiece. Where have you been? Say again, obviously, I do not understand. Why have you been ignoring my transmission, sores? Rage bubbled through my voice, but I tried to keep it even for the sake of anyone back on earth who might have been listening. Opsri, we have received no transmission from you since yesterday. That's a lie. You were sending out that music. Listen, Opsry, I've talked to flight engineer Roj Desvinsky.

We're both very worried about you. We think perhaps you're having some kind of breakdown. Breakdown? I murmured slowly. No, I'm not having... It's perfectly understandable in your position, Boris. Perfectly normal. Zudov purred, his voice slow and gentle.

Nobody blames you, all the stress you've been put under. A breakdown, I repeated once again. Was it possible? Could I be going insane? Yes, you've been up there alone, so long. You started to imagine things, started to see things. Are you sure? Perhaps we should come early, Boris.

Perhaps we should come and help you. Something about Zudov's voice hinted at a hidden malignance to his words, no longer hidden by his forced friendiness. A pretense he was clearly straining to keep up. Sent chills down my spine. No, that won't be necessary. I think it will, Boris. I think we'll have to set a course for Sullyad Five right now.

No, I mean, I don't want to disrupt the mission. I gave a nervous chuckle. The mission, that's what's important. Zudov was silent for a second, considering my comments. The station was filled with the sound of static. I prayed that he would agree to stay away for another two days. There was something about Zudov. Something I only just noticed, that scared me.

And the more time I spent away from him, the better. Yes, of course. You can manage two days. You should get some sleep, though. Take the sleeping pills. You sound tired. I'll do that. See you in two days, then.

Get some sleep, boys. We'll be here before you know it. How long had you been referring to me by my first name? That was against protocol. everything's going to be fine i placed the mouthpiece back on the clip and swallowed nervously two days stuck up here i was now unsure which option was worse being trapped up here or being trapped on soyuz with the smooth-talking zudov i mulled over what he'd said it seemed entirely possible to me that i was having a breakdown i mean the things i'd seen the things i'd heard those couldn't be real they couldn't be footsteps weren't possible in microgravity that's what I told myself by the implication of everything being just a hallucination

was equally sinister was I going insane everything that seemed so real when they'd been happening the notebook had felt really footsteps couldn't have just been in my imagination could they and the carbon filter had that really come loose from its piping at all

and it would explain why the computer never detected any fault They'd all been in my head. But there was one cast-iron way to prove all this, of course. I could go to Jolobov's compartment. I could unwrap the brown paper, and I could look at the notebook. If it wasn't a paranoia-fuelled hallucination, all the writing would still be there. If it was just in my head, all the writing would be gone, or even better, the notebook wouldn't be there at all.

Of course, it's never that simple. I tore open the brown paper, and there it was. With a nauseous reticence, I opened the first page and confirmed the writing was still there. My stomach sank. With a burst of rage I threw the book across the room. It slammed against the far wall, and then fluttered away. There's nothing I could do, then.

It had been there in my hands, solid and real, which meant I was left with two options. Either I hadn't been hallucinating, the book was real or I was further down the rabbit hole of my own head than I thought. Both of the possibilities were, unfortunately, terrifying. I needed some time. I decided to figure out what to do. I needed to get things straight in my head.

I had to do something about this. I couldn't be paralyzed by inaction any longer. I couldn't take it. Slowly I crossed back to the kitchen. My hands trembling as I pulled my body through the air. All the while my head pounded heavy with a throb of blood. I wasn't sure what was real anymore, and then I remembered. The pills.

Zudov had told me to take the pills. Perhaps I was tired. Zudov had never lied to me before, I noted. He wouldn't say anything that could put me in harm's way, surely. Commander Zudov had my best interests at heart. Well, it was no use. I couldn't fool myself with the bullshit excuses about best interests. I knew I didn't trust that man anymore.

Not for another velvet syllable that was wrought by his distant throat. Not for another instruction echoed across the void. I was done listening to him. Internal debate finished. I steady my breathing and decided to look at my problem logically. I tried to block out the memories of the footsteps and the book and the filter and just look at it from an objective point of view. That was pretty much all I could do at this point.

I could take the pills, or I could sit here in terror and confusion for two days. I knew, like it or not, that I'd have to take the pills at some point. I couldn't stay awake for another two days, yet I couldn't sleep. I knew that natural sleep would be an impossibility after everything that had happened.

And so I took the pills. I washed them down with a sip of water and soon felt myself drifting on an ocean of sticky black top. It took all my effort to simply pull myself back to my sleeping compartment and climb in the sleeping bag before I sank into the viscous black liquid of my mind and I felt it soak into my skin and fill my lungs.

Sleep was silent and black as always. Once again the night passed without dreams. I was awoken once again by the hum of the strip light. It had all the stirrings of some horrible deja vu with me. It gnawed at the pit of my stomach, all the knowledge, all the memories and all, the fear that it might happen again. There was something else there too, though. The knowledge that possibly I may not be alone up here. Something was clearly very wrong, I reflected, and my policy of ignorance had failed so badly up to this point I was nearly sick.

I needed to confront it I needed to find whatever truth lay behind the events here I climbed out of the sleeping compartment and looked around it took me a second or two to see the writing when I did though my heart stopped

it was everywhere all across the walls large and black it had been smeared in some black substance using the end of a thumb Christ I shuddered at the sight of it seeing something wholly unnatural

and wholly unknown. It was an ugly confirmation of something that had lurked within me for days. It had been easy to be unafraid of the unknown when the unknown had been crammed in a safe in the back of my mind, not with the unknown on full view in front of me with all its horrific glory. It was now impossible to deny my terror. The words didn't mean anything, no, it was their existence which scared me. They were just numbers or random, random, phrases, but the fact that they were there, well, it couldn't be real, I decided. It could not be real. Slowly I turned around and climbed back into my sleeping compartment. I slid the door closed again and took a deep breath. This was just in my head. It wasn't real. I was just imagining

things in my head spilling out onto the walls of the station. When I opened the door, it would be gone, I decided. The writing would be gone. It was all in my mind, and I was in control of my mind. I was in control. I slid open the door and looked out, praying it would be gone. It was gone. The walls were bare.

It had all been in my head. What was wrong with me? Slowly dragging my eyes over every surface for any trace of the black markings, I pulled myself towards the flight deck and the radio transmitter. I couldn't do it any longer. I had to call Soyuz. I had to get off. If I didn't, I feared the damage would be irreparable,

and I'd be trapped in a semi-real world of my own hallucinations forever. When I flicked on the radio transmitter, however, something was already being transmitted on the other side. The green lights flickered in confirmation that the set was powered up, and as soon as they did, I tore up the mouthpiece. before I could speak, however, a harsh voice jumped from the speakers, having visual and auditory hallucinations, along with paranoia and loss of appetite.

It was Zudov. His voice relaxed me. Despite my misgivings for him, I knew that it was the same man I'd been talking to all this time. His words, on the other hand, were troubling, to say the least. They clearly weren't directed at me. Who was he talking to? They hadn't informed me that communication with ground had been resumed, and I told the commander specifically to do that.

Keep observing him. Another voice now, nod Zudov, not flight engineer Roj Desvensky's. If they were the only two people on Soyuz 21, then Zudov must be talking to someone elsewhere. Someone on the ground. There was a hiss of static, and the channel broke up into meaningless beeping. I listened in anger. I needed to know who'd they been talking about, although I had a sinking feeling I already knew. There is contaminated. The channel was back, and the other man was still speaking.

Contaminated? I didn't quite catch the first half of the sentence through the interference, but that word alone was enough to spook me. Yes, concentration is up to 21%. Carry on observing, so you. Nothing more. There was a hiss and the stranger went silent. The air went dead. I swallowed. The noise sounded deafening in this new silence. What had I just heard?

Who had they been talking about? The obvious answer was just on the tip of my tongue, but I dared say it. I didn't even dare think it. It was too dangerous, too terrifying to comprehend. I looked down at the radio set and saw something. something chilling the frequency dial had been changed it certainly wasn't me who changed it I was sure of that that meant someone or something else was here that meant it was all real I closed my eyes and turned the dial back to the familiar

position the warm hiss of static greeted me different in tone to that on the other channel to know I had to know who they were talking about I had to know whether I was alone up here. I had to know if I was losing my mind. Sores 21. Come in, Soyuz 21. I asked eventually, I still clamped firmly, shouts, reading obstery, reading loud and clear. Soyuz, I began and then stopped to take a deep breath. Soyze, have you had any communication with ground you? There was a short, heavy pause before Commander Zudov, spoke. When he did, I could tell by the tone of his voice that there was a sickening smile on his lips. None whatsoever, I'm afraid, salutes, still out because of these solar flares. That was it,

the big lie, the tipping point. As soon as those words reached me, I nearly broke down in despair. A little sob escaped my mouth. The man I'd trusted all this time. Had everything being lies. Ops 3, do you copy? he asked eventually. I tried to bring myself to respond. Am I alone

up here, Commander? My voice was a hoarse whisper, barely audible above the interference. Alone, what do you mean? I mean, is there someone else on the station?

There's no one up there. only you you're saying it's all in my head you're saying i've lost my mind of course not you're just under a lot of stress all alone up there it's no surprise you began to see things and hear things it was only to be expected from someone in your conditions i know i'm not crazy of course you're not crazy he purred gently his voice warm and reassuring I was almost lulled back into trusting the man again. I... I just...

You're just tired. You've worked hard, but don't worry, your mission is nearly over. I'll see you tomorrow. Tomorrow, I repeated, numbly. I wasn't crazy. It wasn't in my head. That man, that voice was lying to me. It had to be real.

But what could I do? He'd be here in less than a day, and after that things will be far out of my hands. I tore open every cupboard, looked through every compartment, scoured every inch of the plain white metal. I searched for any slightest inclination there might be a concealed compartment somewhere elsewhere in the station.

I looked for anything, anything that could prove me right. There was nothing. I don't know how much time passed in my search, but I soon realised looking was a fool's errand. There was nothing to find. What if it was. It isn't human. I spoke out loud to my own shock. I never talked to myself. My voice was small and

insignificant, even in the cramped air of the station. The idea haunted me. I'd never believed in the paranormal, but my heart beat faster just thinking about it. It was clearly an entity of some kind up here, and if it wasn't a man, then came the rasping. A deep, wet, history. from within the walls. It was followed by another, this one sounding more like a gasp. I froze as I listened, the regular inhaling and exhaling of air. Something was breathing, something inside the wall. Commander, I whispered over the radio, jerking my head round as I heard another breath. It was only just audible when I was at the radio set. It seemed to emanate from the living

area bulkhead. I can hear it breathe. Breathe. The response was swift and, surprisingly, from Zudov, nervous. I can hear it breathing inside the walls. It's awake. I held out the mouthpiece and pressed down the transmit button, hoping he'd hear it. That's just the ventilator system. He decided doubtfully after I'd finished. You must have erupted a tube. I'll take a look when we get there. I let go of the mouthpiece and tried to steady my own breathing, but the great deep breath coming from the living area distracted me from my rhythm. It couldn't just be a torn airpipe. It had to be something more. Slowly I pulled myself up and began to head slowly, gingerly towards the source of the noise. The knife was still in the kitchen

drawer, so I withdrew it and swung around to face the noise. It's coming from within a maintenance panel. I pressed my ear against it, trying to hear what was within. The metal was cold against my skin. Boom. There was a loud bang from within, and I withdrew my head instantly in terror.

It was followed by a desperate scratching, fingernails on metal. I pushed myself backwards and crashed into the wall behind me. The scratching must have gone on for hours, as I sat there in sheer terror, knife raised in front of me. Eventually it began to slow, and then it stopped. Just silence remained. I slowly unfurled, tears streaming down my face.

I couldn't do it anymore. I just couldn't. Bob's three. Come in. We are beginning our approach. I swore loudly and viciously, tears running off my lips. Not him. Not now. I was stuck between whatever horror was on the station or whatever horror was off of it.

Fuck you, Zudov! I snatched the mouthpiece and yelled down it in pure fear. Say again, Obsere? He sounded indignant. Stay away from me, I warned. My voice shaky, all the while the hairs on the back of my neck were beginning to stand upright. Don't bring that ship anywhere near here. These are my orders, Commander Volnyov.

I have a knife, I threatened, knowing my options were running out. He had forced my hand. It was a silence for a second. Time passed like thick black towel. Is that a threat, Commander Volnyov? Zudov was cold in his outrage, but I could hear strains of pure ferocity in his voice. Did you just threaten me? Stay away from me.

I solved once again. Please. I'm so sorry. He decided on eventually, and the frequency went deaf. I could see the black dot of the Soyuz capsule on the horizon of the earth, silhouetted in front of the glowing blue. I had maybe half an hour before he got here. It wasn't enough.

I couldn't think any more. The thing in the walls was still silent again, as far as I could tell. With a beating heart, I turned back to the maintenance panel where the noise had been coming from. I jumped out of my skin when it gave a screech, followed by another. It was a sound of nails on a chalkboard, or something like that. Staring at the panel, I saw a sight I will never forget. The screech was coming from a screw. It was turning in its socket.

giving a mighty squeal each time it did. There was a clink as the screw finished its last rotation and floated gently away from its holding. Whatever was turning the screws moved on to the second, and backed up slowly and clutched my knife so hard my knuckles were white. My tears were in streams down my face, leaving salty deposits on my eyelids. I gritted my teeth.

It felt like the content of my stomach was about a rush, up my throat. It was heavy and nauseating. Another sob racked my quivering body. I crawled into the airlock hatch entrance, right next to Jolobov's dry blood. I ran my fingers over the stain and close my eyes. In my head, I tried to drown out the sounds with desperate prayers, but it wasn't enough. There was a heavy clunk as I felt Soyuz impact. Cracking open one eye, I looked back at the station. Floating in the air was the now detached maintenance compartment panel, along with a handful of screws. I heard movement from within. Turning my focus back to Soyuz, I banged on the airlock door, then felt the hiss as the seals began to fill. This was it. The hairs on the back of my neck

were pricking up again. I had to get out. I had to get out now. The airlock hatch hissed and swung open. My eyes fell into the Sawyer's capsule, into the tiny space where the two astronauts would be, where the man I'd been talking to for the last week would be sitting at the capsule. Was empty. The Mojave spaceman. You know how there's always people out there who tell you wild tales.

Now this guy claims that this happened. Some of the guy says that that happened to him. I never did buy it. Too many people out there in the sun drinking beer in the dry heat. Might as well say the Lord Almighty himself came down from heaven and made them the new chosen one. There was one such guy, Darrell Jameson, an old man who lived off of Interstate 15 just outside of Baker. Back in 94, he came into town one day, coming back from Mojave. He claimed to have seen something rather strange. I don't know if I believe him.

I don't know. Now, he came back from a week of camping out in the desert. He always was the adventurous type, been that way since he was a kid, and stayed that way till he died. This time he was out for his annual camping trip. Now, being a bachelor all his life, he always had time to go in camp, hunt, fish and such,

when he was a man of simple pursuits. Darrow was a handyman, taking odd jobs doing whatever. he was hired to do. Hell, he even served as a guy for anyone wanting to go sightseeing in the desert. Well, he came into Jimbo's that day. My friend John and I, well, at a booth near the pool tables. At first, he stands in front of us, I assume, adjusting his eyes to the change of light. Then he turns around and recognizes us. John moves to offer him a seat. I took off his flannel shirt and sat down. I looked around the room before looking at the half.

full mug in front of him. How'd it go? I asked. I looked at him. His eyes were distant. He wasn't in the room. He was still out in the desert. Whatever was on his mind, it weighed heavily on him.

Darrell, I said loudly at him. He returned to the path. What happened out there? Reached into his pocket, pulled out his pack of cigarettes and lit one. He tapped his fingers on the table, called the waitress for a cup and a fresh pitcher of beer. Keepers in the dark way, don't you? I told him. Well, the fact is, he sighed.

I don't believe it myself. I poured each of us a glass of beer. He scanned the room, then poured himself another glass and drank it with as much vigor as the last one. So, uh, he started. I'm up there for the last one. the third week and, yeah, you know all my years are going out there, seeing the land, feeling the air, tasting the water. I come to realize I was there. What? asked John. I did. Well, my mecker, if you will, replied Darrell. He must have found

what he was looking for out there, because something else was on his mind. Hmm, what's it like? I asked. What kind of had those new pictures Hubble started taking, without description? John poured himself another glass. The pool tables that made their cracking sounds, the classic rock soundtrack that played in the background, they had the conversations of patrons.

All that noise went silent. All I heard then was what Daryl had to say. I camped out by Macedonia Canyon, just off of Kelsosso-Sima Road. This time of year the mule deer would be grazing around, plus it's one of the few places left where I haven't been. It seemed long overdue, and hunting deer is always a plus. I had to keep myself out of sight since I wasn't supposed to be there with all the other campsites nearby. I wanted to be alone, just me and the Mahave.

Over the three weeks I was there, I spent time hunting the mule deer that were grazing. Also took the ranger up to the river to fish. Took me the whole day. We can get back till an hour after sundown. By the time sundown came, every which way was dark, but damn, how beautiful the night sky covers the ground with lights. I brought a small propane bottle and a pole of a stove as well as a lantern. Camp fires would bring the attention of park officials. Well, last week, while I got to camp to cook dinner, sat in front of the tent with a stove on, skillet getting hot. went to the east towards the direction of Black Canyon. Light shine in the sky.

The light was concentrated and very bright. It stayed on for what I'd say was about four hours non-stop. First I thought it must have come from other campers, since they were at the official campsite. Me being new to this area, it felt like one big-ass nightlight. Well, after it was finally gone, I cleaned up and turned in. The surrounding silence was so peaceful. The next day, as I tracked a small herd of mule deer, they led me to Black Canyon.

I passed the campgrounds and headed into the canyon. As I walked, I noticed black sand on the ground. I crouched down to pick some up, and it had a rather strong, burnt smell. I went to the nearest campground and asked about the light. Many said that light was bluish in color, and they felt a heat coming from that direction. And when the light disappeared, they heard a boom sound last night as well, but figured it to be, well, a rifle or something. The people who were closer to the light said they could hear what sounded like a hum from the light.

Even after the light had gone, the humming was still there. And when they heard the boom, the hum had stopped. I walked a Black Canyon, following a trail of deer. Small drops of blood appeared on the ground, and the drops got bigger as I kept walking. Just over a small hill, it was a bush that was soaked in red. As I approached, this stench filled the air. Flies were swarming around the bush. While I walked around it, saw a mule deer.

It was cut open and split down the belly. All its insides were taken out. I turned around to see a pack of coyotes behind me. I read it my rifle just in case, but they stood there, whimpering. and give it to animals to sense danger way before us. There was a shallow crater, just about ten feet from where the Jir's body lay. Walking to it, I felt a heat rising from the ground. Looking around, most of the surrounding plant life was burned down to nothing but branches and twigs.

I kept going, keeping my eyes fixed on the ground. I saw these impressions on the ground. They looked like boot prints, but they were massive. After three hours or so of being there, I'd nab myself a deer, carried it to the ranger. Went to the campgrounds where I parked, and people who I spoke to earlier approached me. They showed me Polaroids of the light beam. It was a solid, bright white light. Some pictures tried to capture the sauce, but all it got were the clouds.

Got back to my camp, began to skin the deer. Several coyotes had followed me, sat around hoping to get whatever they could. I forgot what I needed I tossed the rest of them The sun down the coyotes Nestled near my tent I start cooking a small portion of deer for dinner For a second

An intense flash lights up the sky I had a very loud pop And the light once again appeared However this time it's brighter It seems closer And the coyotes start whimpering them Many started running away I picked up my rifle

loaded a few rounds, grabbed a flashlight and walked in the direction of the light. I could hear some of the coyotes barking at me. Got to the road, and then I stopped. I don't know if it was fear, caution or what, but I couldn't walk any further. I looked back at my camp and then back to the canyon. Whatever was out there, it wasn't bothering me. Walked back to my camp, sat with my rifle, with my lap just in case. them. Early morning I walked to the canyon, and the coyotes who were with me last night stayed put.

As I walked through the campground, I couldn't believe what I saw. The ground was covered in black suit and ash. There were still small bushes on fire. Tens looked as if they'd been ripped open. Things like sleeping bags and lamps were scattered everywhere. Small spots of dry blood were near many of the tents. As I went to go through the tent, as I went to go through the tent. There wasn't anyone around. Out of twenty-tenths, so big enough to hold five. There was not a soul. I walked through the bushes, around Joshua trees.

I even walked to the crater from the other day, but nothing. I thought of the Roanoke colony as I walked around the grounds, seeing the aftermath of whatever occurred. When I got back to camp, the coyotes were gone. I decided to take the range, drive down an unnamed road. As I drove down some ten miles, I spotted a pay phone. I called the park office. At first they thought I was drunk. After a while, they agreed to send a park ranger down there as soon as someone was available. That wouldn't be until the next day. Well, the night before that,

there was no light, a detail I left out of the phone call. I kept at a distance to see what the park ranger would do. He surveyed the campground, talked to someone through a radio, and went back to Wade in his Jeep. Two hours later, several vehicles came to the campground. I went back to my camp and packed my things before they noticed I was there. As I was leaving, I turned on the radio, and all I heard was static while turning the knob. I drove for ten minutes in silence, and the static comes through the speakers. I looked at the radio, but it was off. I pulled over and turned off the ranger. No noise was coming from anywhere. Everywhere was quiet. I got out, feeling a slight breeze on my face, and all of a sudden the static comes back, louder this time. Now, through the static I could

hear something else. It sounded like someone speaking, but for the life of me I couldn't make out what they were saying. I turned the volume knob down, but it was already down, making the radio off. I moved to the other knob, and whatever was talking on the other side seemed to change the way it talked. Then Static took over again. I was standing there, in front of my door, unable to move. I thought, what the hell was that? God, somebody called Peter Ruggman, even he ain't going to believe this shit. Slowly got back into the Ranger, turned it on, and kept driving. I needed to get away from here.

I headed over to the Mild Hills Campground. About 20 minutes of driving, let me to think what on Earth was on the radio and what had happened to the campers. When I reached the Mild Hills Campgrounds, and I'm stopped by a Park Ranger. I sat in my truck for a while before he finally got out of his Jeep. What beside my door, signaled me to get out. "'Howdy?' he says. "'Come in from Black Canyon?'

"'Yeah,' I replied. "'Camped around there?' he asked. "'He seemed to have a relaxed look on him, but his voice was rather serious. "'I did. "'I—' "'You called the office yesterday?' "'Yeah, I did. "'Something wrong?'

"'Well, were you camped at the designated campgrounds? "'Yeah, can I help you with something?' Are you plain stupid? Well, his tone turned on a dime. No, I replied. A culture report people I met there gone missing. How do you know they were missing? I met several of them a few days ago.

I could feel him staring through his dark sunglasses. He didn't care what I said. He'd made up his mind. Those people, he said. There was a company retreats, office types. Couldn't hack it out here. He understands. They left abruptly because they weren't fit to be out here.

What? What about the... I tried to ask. They left in a hurry. He immediately replied. They left. They're gone. Nobody's missing.

They went home, and I suggest you do the same. But the campgrounds were wrecked, blood and torn tents everywhere. They left. Did you find a mule deer that got the help beat out of it? They're safe at home. You got animals scared as shit, and you tell me nothing that could explain anything. Enough, he shouted. Enough.

You get in your truck, you go home, never come around here again. If I find you here again, I'll arrest you for trespassing. Got it? Get in your truck and leave. Oh, I obliged. As soon as I was driving, I looked back into the rearview mirror. We stood there the entire time, until I turned on another road. Driving down Mahavai Road, I spotted another park jeep.

This time this one follows me. All the designated campgrounds were behind me now. Once I was out of sight of any lawmen, turned onto a dirt road, took the long way back to Black Canyon. Waited till dark and drove slowly up to the sights. There were small posts with a yellow crime scene ribbon wrapping around the camp. At ten o'clock with a lantern, I headed out to see for myself what was up. If I got there and Mulder and Scully were there, and something was definitely going on. As I walked through the camp, there was almost nothing there.

Even some of the trees had been uprooted. Some bushes were all sore removed, and the dirt on the ground looked fresh. Must have taken samples or evidence. I walked along the same path that brought me to the crater. It was still bad. Still perfect, untouched. After a while I noticed something. Silence.

There were no animals, no coyotes howling, no animals calling, or bugs buzzing. No plants, no animals, no people. No sign of life. I sat on a large boulder with the lantern off. The light from the moon and the stars covered the camp. It was dim and it. quiet but peaceful. Looking towards the east the plains looked totally black with the outlines of the

mountains dividing the land and the sky. To the west the plain stretched beyond the earth's curve, an ocean of black sky with islands made as stars, the only thing around. I heard footsteps and got up and hid behind the boulder. It was a park ranger, a woman with a flashlight up to her head, and she was scanning the area. She walked up to the day. She walked up to the day. She walked up to crater and kneeled down maybe for a better look now she was shot to be in her late 20s early 30s it was too dark to make out her face she did have big shoulders and a small head she kneeled down her back turned towards me well i lightly ran out of there i stepped towards some bushes i stepped on something that let out a loud crash who's out there she hollered my pocket my pocket

ranger for the Mahavie National Preserve and have the authority by the state of California to act as law enforcement. Now, show yourself. Okay, I replied, stepping into a light. No need for trouble. What are you doing out here? This place is sealed off to the public. Oh, you don't need to tell me. I know all about it.

What are you talking about? I called the office, told them about this place. and they tell me to leave the park and never come back. What are you talking about? She seemed nervous. If we calm down, I tried to put her at ease. I'll explain myself. We stood there in the dark, and I told her what I knew.

I don't think it helped much. He seemed to rattle her even more. I took her back to my truck, got the last two cans of beer I had. We sat on the flatbed door, in the Providence Mountains. After some time she seemed to calm down. She didn't want any bit, settle for warm bottle water. Why are you out here? I finally asked. She took some time to answer. At first I thought she didn't hear me. I was told to patrol along Black Canyon Road, she answered. He did say someone was lurking around, and if I ran into them, arrest them.

If they resist, even in the slightest, shoot him dead. Her voice was so. She'd be able to sit. Her voice was soft and fragile. They didn't tell me anything, she continued. I guess they meant you, but they didn't say why you'd be out here. They didn't say anything about what I told them, I asked. She shook her head. Those sons of bitches sending a green deputy out into the wild, no clue what to expect. I don't mean to sound harsh, but I've been in the desert most of my adult life. I've never seen anything like it, not the light, not what remains. The radio in her patrol car went off, and she had to get going. As I saw her drive off, the moon hung over the mountains.

Sitting in the ranger, turned on the radio, nothing but static. The night covered everything. As far as I could see, it was all black everywhere. I tried to look at the direction of the canyon, of the camp, of the crater, but I couldn't be sure where it was exactly. I turned on the ranger and just drove away from there. As I turned on to the next road, it got bumpy. The dry, heat and silence didn't seem so bad.

It was nice outside. Why? Why was I been forced to leave? I always thought of this place is my home away from home. I wanted to stay here. This place was so tranquil. Everything I needed was here. I was selfish to one this place to myself,

but it just seemed like the ideal place. to be. I drove for ten minutes, when in the distance behind me there was a light. While I slammed on the brakes and turned my head. It was the same light from my first night, and the night the campers went missing. It was as intense as those nights were, so I got out of the ranger, I just had to see it for myself. The light was bright and bluish, couldn't get my eyes away from it. I looked up to see if there was a source. There were clouds in the way. But these clouds weren't still. They seemed to move around the light as if what was making them were using them to cover up whatever was there. The radio switched on again.

At first static, it sounded really violent. I quickly turned to the truck, but the sound came from the speakers just like last time. I got in turned on the truck and tried turning the knobs in hopes of getting rid of it, but nothing. Something must have been said, but for the life of me, I couldn't make anything else. After some time, I turned off the truck where the noise never stopped. I got out again and saw lights coming from far away. They were coming towards me very fast. I must have been some ranges.

I ran past the truck so they couldn't see, just in case. They ran past me, and as soon as they were out of sight, the light from the canyon stopped immediately. It was dark and totally dark. I got into my car and started driving as fast as I could. The only sound I could hear was the ranger's engine. It was dark. I put my hindbeams on, but from the left side,

dust was coming over my windshield, and the dust was becoming thick. I couldn't see past the end of the hood. I had to pull over, but as I did I noticed something about the dust. I tried to wipe the dust off, but as the wipers went up, the dust followed right behind it, make it impossible to come off. In the rearview mirror, I could see the light start to dim. As the dust settled and the light grew stronger, I slammed my foot onto the gas, but

well, nothing. I looked at the tachometer. The needle went well into dangerous territory, and the range's exhaust caused serious smog. I gave everything I had. Dead set on getting away. I looked at the side. A Joshua tree seemed to pass me, like I was moving backwards. And the light was getting closer.

Slowly, very slowly. I couldn't believe it. What the literal fuck was going on? Then something came over me. I got out of the ranger and ran as hard as I could. I was surprised that I could run out. My truck went fur towards the light. I ran to the opposite direction.

Soon the dust came up again. Now I was fighting to breathe as much as I was running to get away. I heard some high-pitched harmonies and saw some faint lights in front of me. I thought I was trapped, caught between the ascension of hell and its gatekeeper making sure I reunited with the campers. It was a cruiser, the female trooper. She slammed on the brakes, and I got in the passenger side before eating another pound of dust.

Rather than try to drive away from the pool, She guns the cruiser towards it, and the winds grow more violent. The ranger must have been doing forty backwards. You know what you're doing here? I hollered. She seemed frightened, but was determined to go towards the light no matter what. And then it stopped. The wind and the dust had died suddenly. The light started to fade out before it got dark completely.

She pulled over and took some heavy breaths. I saw the Ranger rolled down the road I got out of the cruise and ran towards it I got in and hit the brakes just as the Ranger was backing off the road crashed into a tree which should fallen over broken in half I drove onto the road

and she met me there thanks for the help I said I never did get your name after some hesitation she said my name's Melissa Wright what An earth made you drive towards that light, I asked. I saw someone out there, she answered.

Didn't know it was you again. What's your name, by the way? Darrell, I replied. I stood there on the road in silence. Only the lights from the range when the cruiser were on. I sat on my seat with the door open. I was so tired from all of this excitement. Look, Melissa whispered.

I don't know what's going on here. I just started a month ago and since being here I've experienced some messed up shit but this, well this is too much what you do before this I asked

well I felt sorry for her neither of us understood what was going on here I walked up north in Yosemite she replied I was offered a spot here so I took it thinking it'd be nicer

than to be frozen half the year a call from her radio suddenly came through and it startled her Deputy Ryder, are you there? It spoke. Melissa got in the cruiser and grabbed the mic. This is Ryder, she responded.

We need you to come to the station, the voice said. Copy that, on my way. Melissa got out and turned to me. I have to go, and so do you. I won't say I saw you, but I think you should go. They'll be coming down here looking for something. She got back into her cruiser. follow me she said and close the door for a moment i thought about turning in the other direction instead i followed

no sense in getting into more hot water it was fifteen minutes before she suddenly stopped and i had to slam on my brakes to keep from hitting her i got out and walked toward the door i looked into the window but well she didn't seem to notice me she just stared forward i knocked on the window but nothing I looked at her hands. They were clenching the steering wheel. I tried to open the door, but it was locked, so I banned on the window again, louder. Melissa, I shouted. Open the door, what's going on?

I ran towards the front of the cruiser. There was a look of utter fright on her face. I turned around, but saw nothing. Then she must have slammed her foot onto the gas because the engine let out a loud roar. The cruiser accelerated, so fast there was barely any time to run out of the way, so I tried to leap out of the way, but got slammed onto the windshield. I rolled off the side of the cruiser, breaking off the

side mirror as I fell. But Melissa just kept going faster and faster. The red tail lights got got smaller and smaller as she drove, until eventually she disappeared. I picked myself up and limped back to the ranger. I got about three miles when I saw Melissa's cruiser off to the side. I got out to see the cruiser had driven into a decline and into a large boulder. I stepped down to where it had crashed. I looked to see Melissa in the driver's seat. Her airbag had gone off and her seatbelt was on. A call to her, Melissa, you okay? But no answer. Her opened the driver door and reached to unbuckle her, and she quietly moaned. I did my best to pull her out when I noticed my right forearm had been badly cut. Must have been either from the windshield, the mirror, or hitting the

the ground. A voice came from the radio. Deputy Ryder, are you on your way? I reached past her and grabbed the microphone. Um, officer down, I said. Um, officer down. Mel, I mean, Deputy Ryder has been in an accident. There was no answer. Hello? I tried again. There was an accident. She drove off the road and hit a rock. She needs an ambulance. Still, nothing. "'Deputy Rider,' the radio started. "'Come in, Deputy Rider. Where are you?' "'I tried again. "'Hey, Officer down. It needs an ambulance.'

"'And again, nothing, followed by someone on the other side asking for Ryder again. "'I kept trying to talk to dispatch, but nothing. "'And I started smelling something in the air. "'I looked around and from the front of the cruiser, "'smokes started floating up. I had my arms around Melissa and pulled her out as the fire started to crackle from under the hoods. I started dragging her away from the cruiser and towards my ranger. While the cruiser caught fire quickly, and my shoulder gave out as I lifted Melissa off the road and into the ranger.

I put my good arm under her shoulder and dragged her as best I could. As I opened the passenger door to let her in, she seemed to wake up. Her eyes were blinking rapidly, and her breathing intensifies. but she still wasn't fully there yet. Took a lot of time and effort, but I managed to put her in the back seat lying down. For the time I got her into the driver's seat, the cruiser had been fully engulfed in flames.

Don't worry, I yelled to Melissa. As soon as we get you out of here to the station, they can get your help. But they'll get you, she replied very weakly. I was sent to arrest you if I saw you. They'll think you did this to me. Well, that doesn't matter now, I said. we need to get you to a hospital that's what matters i pushed the gas back as far as it would go and hauled

us on the dirt road in hopes of finding a bigger road from the rearview mirror i could see the cruise of burning it was the only thing that was lit for miles the further i drove away the less i could tell it was a fire it was more of an unfocused glow driving through the night at this speed made me nervous but I needed to get Melissa to adopt her. One point of notice is to cross road and tried to turn, only I was going so fast that I lost control of the Ranger and nearly flipped it over. I might as well have been driving on Thunder Road.

I tried to regain control, but found myself swerving off the road. I was lucky not to hit anything, as well as the Ranger not driving into something that I couldn't get out of. I slowly got back onto the road, and stopped to turn and check on Melissa. Well, thankfully I had strapped her as best I could with the seatbelts, so she didn't get hurt any worse than she already was.

I turned my attention to the road in front of me, pushed forward, minding both Melissa and the road. I tried to focus and look at the distance. The wind was picking up, and the dust was getting thick. I didn't take long for dust to completely cover the windshield again. I had to stop and let the winds pass. However, it only seemed to get worse. The winds were becoming faster And I could feel the ranges starting to sway

From side to sides They had no choice but to put it in part The rocking was getting worse I looked over to Melissa Who hadn't moved for a while I reached over and nudged her a little And she let out a soft moat Her face was bruised

And a little bit of blood came out of her mouth Poor girl Couldn't comprehend what had come over her I didn't think she would know either I turned to look through the windshield, but nothing. I pushed onward slowly. The dust didn't just cover the windshield. It seemed, well, fixed in place.

All of a sudden, I felt the ranger moved backwards. I floored it, but as loud as the engine roared, it didn't move. I tried so hard to get away from whatever the hell had us. I felt something. It felt like we were being elevated, like we were floating the ranger began to shake and as i tried to look beyond the dust what i could see seemed to move downward we were being lifted by what i don't know then the ranger came crashing down the dust fell suddenly as well and what i saw before me was ungodly there was someone or something in front at some

distance. Maybe a man, he was certainly huge, even from that distance I could tell his size. There was a bluish light above him. Well, from what I could see, he wasn't wearing normal clothes. I thought maybe some sort of suit. He began to walk towards me. I was stuck there drawn to him. I had this feeling in the pit of my stomach, and I just couldn't shake it. I couldn't look away. I felt the air get heavier. I began having to be. having trouble breathing. As he got closer I could see him more clearly now. It looked like he was wearing some sort of spacesuits. He walked very slowly, very mechanical. The light stayed in place and turned at an angle, giving the man a silhouette. Suddenly Melissa began to stir. That was enough

to break my concentration on what was in front of me. I immediately put the Ranger in reverse and turned it around and began to speed away. I didn't get to far I floored it but the ranger got stuck I looked into the rearview mirror the man was still walking towards us the air became heavier and it was getting harder to breathe what happened Melissa asked I didn't answer just kept trying to get the Ranger to move but it was no use that man kept coming and eventually I stopped trying The man's reflection in the left mirror to one side I looked into my right mirror

and saw him standing next to the Ranger What? Melissa shrieked I didn't look at her And all of a sudden she screamed She must have seen the man next to us And she kept on screaming She tried to unbuckle herself but wasn't able to I'm stuck she cried

I'm stuck help me I turned to her The man was still outside the door And the light was still fixed in place But I had a clearer image of him now The suit didn't seem like one an astronaut would wear It looked like it was made of metal Like one that those deep-sea divers would wear back in the day

And the helmet was huge It had various eye-holes in it And it had a ring around it which connected the helmet to the suit Melissa froze with feet The air was heavy, and I couldn't move at all. He put his hand on the window. A giant metal glove covered it entirely, and there were grooves on the palms, maybe so he could grip. He pulled down the window with ease.

Oh, Marissa, reached for her hip. I thought at first it was to again attempt to unbuckle, but she drew her gun instead. She pointed at the man, her hand shaking wildly. Her breathing was rapid and deep. Or she must have felt the weight of the air on her too. The man leaned in and reached for her. Melissa fired twice, and the man retreated instantly. A loud hiss came out, and white gas spewed from where she must have shot him.

I embarked and reached in the back seat for my rifle. I aimed for one of his eye-holes, but I didn't fire. I couldn't. Shoot him! Melissa cried, but I didn't. Shoot him, she repeated. But I still just sat there. He came closer.

Melissa pointed her gun again, but he was able to grab it out of her hands. His arms were very long. He looked at it. His fingers were too big to get to the trigger. He pointed the barrel to the hole in his suit. He then turned to us and dropped the gun. I lowered my rifle and looked at him.

At his head, maybe I was staring into his eyes. Melissa turned to me. She grabbed for my rifle, but I wouldn't let it go. Shoot him, she cried. What the hell's wrong with you? He'll kill us, like you did the campsite, remember? She was right. The campers, maybe he took them,

or whatever happened, he had to have done something to them. I leveled the rifle and aimed at his head. He came to the truck and tried to rip the door off. I shot him directly in the head right through an eye-hole. He fell back. I turned forward and slammed my foot on the gas pedal. He's getting up! Melissa shouted. You've got to go faster.

Then, without thinking, I made a right turn. Well, I was lucky I didn't veer off the road. I could see to my right the man was upright and he was huge. The light still on him. He seemed to be. look back at us looking at the road all i could see was where the headlights were shining all i could see was the dirt road i kept at it until the ranger started to rumble and it then came to a halt i turned the key but nothing i kept at it for a while Melissa was able to unhook the seatbelts and sat upright

she looked frightened her face was pale and her breathing had sped up suddenly The headlights turned on. I looked at the front of the truck. There was a phone booth right in front of us. There was light coming from a lamp post high above. When it was covered in graffiti, the tether that would be attached to a phone book was swaying with the wind. The phone began to ring.

We just sat there, letting it ring on forever. Well, it sure felt like it. It had gone on long enough that I felt compelled to go and answer. I opened my door and began to slide out when Melissa grabbed my arm. What are you doing? she cried. What the hell are you doing? You don't know what's going on. It could be that thing trying to bait you.

I heard what she said, but it didn't register right away. I got out and walked to the booth. I stopped just in front of it. And I looked behind me. Melissa was getting out of the ranger, carrying the rifle while looking all around. I stepped into the booth and I stared at the phone while it rang. I turned to see if I could spot the man anywhere. He wasn't around but it felt like he was near, like he was watching.

Finally, after a good long minute, I picked up the phone. I held it in my hands. After a long time of ringing, the dead silence was unsettling. Not even the wind was making a sound. I turned to see Melissa walking slowly towards. me she was still reeling from the crash it might be him wellissa said see what he wants she turned to face the direction we'd come from with a rifle firmly in her hands ready I hoped for whatever might come I put the phone to my ear at first there was only silence I was just about to

hang up when a low humming sound came through then a voice which spoke slowly "'You know me, don't you?' said the voice. "'I am the one, the one you look to.' "'I didn't know what to make of what it said. "'Do not be afraid. I am here for you.' "'I looked behind me. I looked past the ranger, only to see the light from above. "'It was beaming down, but I couldn't see anything under it. I looked all around but only saw darkness.

I put the phone back to my ear. I could only hear the humming now. Melissa came closer to me. She took the phone and placed it to her ear. I can't hear anything, she replied. I took the phone from her and put it to my ear. I also heard nothing. You hear anything?

She asked. And I shook my head. I was about to put the phone back when we began to hear from. footsteps they were heavy sounding like metal banging against the ground Melissa raised the rifle and back towards me into the phone booth the footsteps got louder but I couldn't see the man anywhere when I could hear a faint hiss in the air that was coming out of the hole in his suit come on I said back to the truck I put her shoulder of my head and helped her

walk back to the Ranger as I put her in the passenger seat something grabbed me by my shoulder and turned me around with so much force i almost fell over it was the man he seemed to be breathing heavily and the hole in his suit was no longer spewing out air and the glow from the eye-holes were dimming he reached out to me he grabbed me by the shirt and threw me onto the ranger's hoods i rolled off the hood when i heard melissa scream i got up to my feet as quickly as i could and saw it the man grabbing her by the leg and trying to pull her out of the ranger she held on to the seat kicking at him with her free leg i ran to the driver's side door opened it and tried to pull her to me but the man's strength was far beyond mine i glanced over for the rifle and reached for it when i grabbed it and readied it the man immediately let go i aimed at him and he stood there back i shouted get away from her but he only stood there. Melissa crawled towards me out of the Ranger.

I helped to get to her feet while still aiming the rifle at the man. He began to walk around the front of the Ranger, and we backed away from him. The further we backed the more we began to trip over each other's feet. I fired a warning shot, and the man stopped. We all stood still for a while. The air was cold and heavy, the silence was soft, and the lights in the man's eye holes had gone out completely.

The man then disappeared into the dark. Run, I shouted. As best we could, we ran back to the Ranger. We got in and locked the doors. There's a revolver in the glove compartment, I told Melissa. She opened it and found it. And checked to see how many rounds we had. It's empty, she told me.

She ran her hand through the glove compartment, found a box of ammo. She loaded the gun and aimed it to get a feel for it. I turned the ranger around, put it in gear, and then we saw the bright light in front of us. The light this time began to move towards us. I turned to see the man standing behind us, and his eye-hole lights were back on.

Melissa turned around to see the man. Oh, fuck, she cried. After a moment with the revolver firmly in her hand, she turned around and aimed at the man. I keep the truck still, she said to me, and fired two rounds, while she hit him in the chest, and he finally fell over.

My God, what have we done? And so once again, we reach the end of tonight's podcast. My thanks as always to the authors of those wonderful stories, and to you for taking the time to listen. Now, I'd ask one small favor of you, wherever you get your podcast wrong, please write a few nice words and leave a five-star review as it really helps the podcast. That's it for this week, but I'll be back again same time, same place, and I do so hope you'll join me once more. Until next time, sweet dreams and bye-bye.