Randy looked at the wall, spotting a crevasse. “Hey, this must be where they went down.”
The live feed they’d watched had been somewhat spotty when they had gotten to this point, but Rosalyn squinted her eyes at it and said, “Randy, this isn’t it. It was further.”
He walked towards it confidently. “The rover could fit through this, no problem.”
“I’m sure it could,” she said matter-of-factly, “but they didn’t go that way.”
He turned back with lowered eyelids and a condescending smirk. “You do eventually stop talking, right? At some point?”
She stared at him blankly. “Charming.”
“All for you.”
Terri crossed her arms; she didn’t remember. The two reluctantly followed Randy, lagging behind deliberately, fog collecting on the glass of their helmets. He peered into the crevasse. It looked like a broken tunnel, probably dug out by something, but long left to disuse.
Rosalyn scrutinized it. “There’s no staircase here, Randy.”
Randy stooped and looked carefully within, and after thirty seconds he sighed heavily. “How far did those guys go? No wonder the stupid signal went out.”
He stood back up and walked onward without looking at them. Terri smiled, following him, trailed by Rosalyn.
Rosalyn looked to her right at the great, unknown expanse of the huge chamber and turned on the frequency-searching function of her communication set. “Captain Beele, Tokoharu…are you with us?”
♦♦♦
“Alright, there’s nothing here. Let’s go back up,” Sam said, gesturing to the stairs.
“Wait, wait—I see another room.”
They had reached the bottom of the vertical room and checked every one of the strange pods. So far they had either found them empty or not been able to see within them.
Shauna started for the room she had spotted, curiosity driving her on. It was a narrower entrance, but it led to a fairly large, circular chamber sliding downwards, like a bowl. A dim, bluish light enveloped this room, no shadows visible in the concave center. Four narrow sets of descending staircases all around the room led to the very center, where a metal pedestal stood with a glassy sphere upon it.
She started down the staircase, stepping slowly, taking everything in deliberately as she went. There were thin, long holes cut in patterns at the highest and lowest edges of the concave bowl, dark and unknown. Above her, the decrepit ceiling was carved with remarkable images of humanoid creatures like an ancient earthly chapel. Most of it was too faded and worn to make out details, but she could see posed humanoids by the dozens, mountains, and landscapes with bizarre creatures. The humanoids looked like they had a slightly rough texture to their skin, with longer fingers than humans and tall forms. She stared up at it, transfixed in wonder.
“Sam… Look at this!” she breathed.
Sam looked on from the doorway, taking it in with less curiosity and more distant fascination. “That’s okay. I’m starting to get more and more creeped out the further we go.”
After a few moments he turned back and continued examining the walls of the previous room, keeping the captain in his peripheral vision.
“Sh—a and Sam, can y— hear us?” Sam suddenly heard. He jumped and winced at the loud sound in his ear. It was the voice of Terri.
He responded hastily, “Y-yes, we can hear you! Can you hear us?”
“Yes, you’re ———i— but we can hear you!”
He sighed in relief. “Thank God. We’re in a room just by where we were when the audio cut off. Are you coming for us?”
“Yeah, we think we’re getting close now.”
“Alright. We’ll come to you. The rover had a bit of a fall, so we’ll need your help—!”
Shauna turned back for a second, cutting him off as she said, “No. Come to us. We found something.”
“Um…okay,” responded Randy. “What is it?”
“I’ll let you know after I find out.”
She kept walking. Sam looked on with a blank face as she made it down to the center and stood with her face right up to the glassy orb on the pedestal. Shauna had a better view of it: the size of a melon, it had a deepness to it, like it held far more than what seemed to be able to fit within the cubic inches of its interior. It was translucent, but not exactly see-through. Within it was only blackness.
Should she touch it, she wondered? The pedestal it stood on looked functional, not decorative—this wasn’t a display. It was for something.
“Can you, by any chance, give us a little bit more detail than that? We came all this way, you know,” Randy said over the comm set.
“I’m not sure what it is,” she answered. “Some kind of orb-shaped object.”
She set her palm to it. Even through her suit it felt warm—the only warm thing they’d found down here, other than the acid. Carefully she tested it, moving it slightly, finding it was placed there loosely, trying to sense any changes in the air when she did so. Nothing happened. With both hands she picked it up entirely, finding it light as a feather, almost. Again, nothing happened. She had never seen anything like this. It was remarkable.
For a moment she debated if she should bring it back to the ship. The loss of the rover hanging heavy on her conscience, she couldn’t escape the feeling that she needed something big to redeem herself. And this—this was it! This wasn’t merely a rare mineral. It was the rarest of rare materials. Something completely unknown. FAER would be absolutely floored when she showed them this.
But a bit of fear nagged at her. Maybe this wasn’t something good. Maybe it was dangerous. It would do them no good if Shauna caused yet more damage to their equipment.
She was being rash, she realized with a sharp sigh. She couldn’t repeat the exact same mistake she had just made with the rover, plunging ahead without proper precaution. She had to leave it here, she concluded. It had stood there untouched for probably hundreds of years; if it had been okay after that long, they’d be able to find it again if and when they were instructed to do so by their superiors. Assuming they ever forgave her for losing the rover.
Looking around at the strange, stony, dimly-lit, bowl-shaped room, she felt suddenly what Sam must have been feeling: a distinct impression that she shouldn’t have entered this place. It was tense, like a loaded spring, ready to burst if it was troubled.
She took a deep breath, glad she was now making the right choice.
She set the orb back on the pedestal. A click came.
As she turned back and started up the steps again, she was about to say something to Sam about not needing to be nervous. But she didn’t get the chance.
Hundreds and hundreds of gallons of black liquid started gushing out of the long, thin holes in the sides of the bowl with a deafening rush, and the ones near the base closed up, echoing a stony clump. The rushing liquid shoved Shauna back and she hit her head hard against the metal pedestal, nearly knocking her unconscious as the liquid began to rise.
“Shauna!” Sam couldn’t help but scream. He hastened down the steps to reach her but was quickly warded off by the black liquid, which spilled out, pooled together, and rose up at a fantastic rate.
“What is going on there?” The voice of Terri.
“There’s liquid pouring into this room—it’s filling up like a cistern!” he said, panicked. “Shauna’s drowning!” Quickly calculating his options, he stepped as carefully as he could into the liquid.
Shauna’s head spun. Little feeling came to her, but pretty quickly she could feel ice-cold liquid oozing onto her neck, rising until it reached her cheek. By the time she had the consciousness to scream, she had no oxygen. She was completely submerged in wet blackness. She tried to stand, but the rapidly moving liquid made balancing on two feet an Olympic act.
Sam reached through the muck with his arms, but he couldn’t get deep enough without getting submerged himself and losing his balance. He stood up and fumbled through his pack for a short metal cable.
“We’re coming, just hold on!” said Rosalyn, huffing like she was running.
But they couldn’t see what he was seeing; there was no time. He loosed the cable and tossed it to the center, but it wasn’t heavy enough to sink down in whatever this stuff was. He pulled it back, hearing the still-rising liquid lapping against his thighs. The rate of the liquid’s rising slowed somewhat. He looked around and discovered a loose bit of stone debris the size of a baseball and tied the cable around it. With the added weight, he tossed it back in carefully and watched it slowly drop to the floor.
“Shauna, I threw you a cable! Reach around for it!” he shouted over the comm set, desperately hoping she could hear.
Long, agonizing seconds passed. He finally watched the flow of liquid from the holes come to a slow stop, now only dribbling slightly. A greater quiet came upon the room now, but that only worried him more.
“What’s happening?” Rosalyn demanded.
After a moment he stammered, “Th-the flow stopped! I’m going in for her!”
After setting aside his pack of supplies, he plunged into the deep for Shauna. He moved awkwardly and slowly, blind as a bat, but with the airtight suit on he was heavy enough to drop ever so slowly, and wouldn’t be pushed around by the current now. He went forward as best as he could. He could hear comm chatter, but it was all static now that he was submerged. Of course Shauna couldn’t hear him.
He felt corners of stairs at his feet as he floated downward, nearly stumbling on a few of them. Finally he bumped into what was unmistakably Shauna, who was striding forward, flailing her arms. He wrapped his arms around her body and heaved her upward. The visor of his helmet should have bumped against hers, but instead he felt nothing. Had her visor shattered?
With their combined effort, they eventually were able to rise up out of the surface of the liquid, and they both fell against the staircase with a thud. Shauna’s visor had indeed burst almost entirely, and she was sputtering for air, coughing up the black muck that soaked her entire head.
“Sam! Are you still there?!” came the forceful voice of Randy.
“We’re here!” he said, heart pumping and breathing heavy. He wiped the dripping muck off of his visor with a free hand. “I got her.”
Terri asked, “Is she okay?”
He reached out and touched Shauna’s shoulder, shaking her lightly. She was still coughing. He couldn’t do much for her what with spacesuits on.
“Her visor shattered,” he said with grave concern. “She nearly drowned.”
There was a stunned silence. After several long moments, the awful sounds of Shauna retching subsided, and she seemed to start breathing again. Her eyes were half-shut, but she moaned and sputtered, clearly still conscious.
The atmosphere of this planet was slightly toxic and cold; technically survivable, as had been concluded from probe research, but not for long periods of time. The toxicity would likely begin damaging human lungs after merely twenty minutes or so, and the cold would do the body harm immediately.
They needed to get her back inside the ship, and fast.
He rummaged through his pack for a simple breathing apparatus and stuck it onto her face, strapping it around the back of her head. It was meant for use in the event of oxygen failure on the Novara, but it would help her survive longer for now, he thought, at least in the breathing department. Other than that, she looked terrible. Alive, but terrible: her wet skin paler, her short-shaven hair slick, her eyes scarily glazed over, and her expression blank.
“We made it down the stairwell,” said Rosalyn.
“Great,” he said. “Tell me what you’re seeing and I’ll guide you here.”
He sat back down on the staircase next to Shauna, surveying the room. The liquid had begun to drain almost as quickly as it had filled. He stared at it with confusion. As the last of the liquid drained away through the reopened holes at the center, leaving the room gleaming wet, he saw the metal pedestal at the center, still standing, dripping liquid.
But the orb object was missing.
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