CHAPTER ELEVEN

You Crazy Psycho

 

That was the longest short Interspace jump of my life. For the three days we spent inside, I was either sleeping or reading more of my dad's book. It was the only thing keeping my mind off Glennsworth's weird book — despite how often it wandered there. Glennsworth kept to himself, save for his meals. But even then, he was a person of few words. He was aloof, uncaring. His mind must have never stopped turning. I wondered if he was just as obsessed as I was. (Me, obsessed? No way, I wasn’t obsessed. I meant interested.)

 

Jord interrupted my train of thought with a plate of steamed algae patties and reedberry juice.

 

“Here's your breakfast, champ,” he said. “By the way, nice flying back there. I knew I made the right choice, going into business with you.”

 

I grabbed my breakfast, set it on my lap, and mashed a whole patty into my mouth. Mmmm. Nice and foamy. I washed it down with the sweet and tart juice. “Thanks. You didn’t do too bad a job shooting.”

 

“We almost there? I'm ready to get you-know-who off this ship. I've had enough weirdos to last me the rest of the year.”

 

“Another half-hour, give or take.”

 

“Good; I'm ready to make some real money and do some real work. I forgot how boring space travel was. Anyway, let me know if you need anything else. I'll be putting some last-minute touches on the weapons.”

 

We passed through the Wyn Gate, and the watery world of Harland appeared in full display. It was like a gem of sapphire against a sheet of black velvet with little holes of light peeking through it. I typed the coordinates provided by Doctor Rupert into the route tracker. The greenish-yellow rings careened around to the far side of Harland. I followed them in.

 

Once we hit the atmosphere, I told Jord and Glennsworth to hold on over the intercom. The internal temperature rose, and flames arced all around the ship. I shook violently in my chair and hoped to the Pantheon that the Lady Luna wouldn't explode, burning us to a crisp. She’d gotten us that far. She couldn't give up on me yet.

 

We made it through! I sighed in relief and wiped the sweat from my forehead and neck. Hopefully, she'd make the return trip, too.

 

For a planet lacking any visible swamps, marshes, or bogs, Harland was actually kind of beautiful up close. Waves crashed and churned, foaming white. Birds dove under the ocean and came screaming back to the surface with mouths full of fish. In the clear, bluish-green water, I could see schools of fish — hundreds of thousands of them — being chased by much larger creatures of the deep. I started to think about how much fun it might be to deep-sea fish out there. Those things were huge. Much bigger than the dinky little fish back home.

 

Up ahead, tiny islands littered the ocean, each filled with tropical trees and lush, teal, alien vegetation. I assumed the birds must have lived on the islands and flew out for hunting. There were some tiny communities nestled on the beaches, getting progressively larger as we flew overhead.

 

At last, we reached the biggest island. Fifty or so moss-and-sand-covered structures flanked a short stretch of paved road. A few construction vehicles and mechanized suits traveled back and forth, hauling heavy equipment and supplies. At the end of the road was an octagonal landing pad, big enough for about three freighter-class ships, maximum. A transport ship was busy unloading personnel and supplies. I reduced the prograde thrust and took us in to land.

 

We assembled near the boarding ramp and departed the ship. Doctor Rupert jogged toward us, waving her hands, her golden locks of hair blowing in the wind. I waved back.

 

Jord leaned in and mumbled, “So, that's what she looks like up-close. Not bad for the science-y type.”

 

I nudged him hard and told him to shut up before she came within earshot.

 

“Mister Cadel!” she said as she slowed her jog to a stroll. “I'm so glad you're here. How was the trip?”

 

“The usual.” I tried to act cool and collected, as if I had done it before. “Nothing extraordinary.”

 

She looked at Jord, and then at me with confusion. “Is it only you?”

 

“Yes,” I answered. “Is that a problem?”

 

“No. I assumed there would be more of you. And, I wasn't expecting you to be here physically, Mister Cadel.”

 

“Well, I come from the hands-on school of business management,” I bullshitted. I couldn't look like a chump in front of our first big client. “We are the best in the business; I assure you.”

 

“And who is this?” she asked, regarding Jord.

 

Jord took her hand and kissed it. “Jord Pirt, Co-Founder and Director of Ordnance. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Doctor.”

 

Doctor Rupert's sun-kissed cheeks blushed red. Jord, you sly bastard, I thought. Putting the moves on her. I had to break that up. “Why don't you show us around? I need to stretch my legs.”

 

“Of course. Follow me,” she said.

 

She led us down the stretch of road and pointed at the various structures. There was the main research laboratory, temporary community housing, some smaller, private housing for long-term residents, storehouses, construction equipment, an infirmary, and a makeshift recreation area.

 

When we reached the end of the tour, I asked if there was any available lodging. I tried to deflect and say we needed a place for quick access to our weapons, but really, it was because I was tired of sleeping in the crappy cot aboard the Lady Luna.

 

She showed us to the community house called “the Brick”. It was a simply designed, long, brownish-red, four-story, rectangular structure with plasteel windows in every room. We were assigned a corner room on the third floor. It was filled with two beds, a wooden table and chairs that looked like they were carved from the local trees, a dinky kitchenette, and a closet. The walls were the same brick-red as the exterior, and the floors were bare steel. I won't lie; we might as well have slept on the ship.

 

I sat on the bed and bounced to check its softness. Never mind; the bed would do.

 

“Will this be okay, gentlemen?” she asked.

 

“Yes, thank you,” I said. “Although, this is only enough for two. We need a third bed.”

 

She looked at me, tilting her head. “I'm sorry. Are you expecting company?”

 

“Yes, he's right—” I turned to point at Glennsworth. But, he was gone, nowhere to be seen. My head jolted back and forth around the room. It had to be a joke of some kind. “Where did the Professor go?”

 

Jord looked around. “What the…? Where'd he go?”

 

“Who are you talking about?” Doctor Rupert asked.

 

Glennsworth must have moved on to his next goal, his next destination, wherever that might have been. He was a mysterious guy.

 

My PCD pinged. I looked down and read a message from Glennsworth himself.

 

Glennsworth: The fifteen-hundred bitcreds has been deposited into the Omnigalactic account. Thank you for your help.

 

Me: It was a pleasure, Professor. Good luck to you.

 

I had a feeling that even if I pressed him about where he went or what he was up to, he'd simply ignore my message. I guessed I'd never find out any more about his weird magic. Sorry, what was it again – “the occult arts”?

 

I shook my head. “Never mind,” I said. “Thank you for the accommodations, Doctor.”

 

“You're welcome. I don't mean to pry, but when are you planning on… completing the contract?”

 

Thankfully, Jord jumped in — after I just stared at her with a blank face. “We'll get to work as soon as we're settled in. Once we have enough information on what we're dealing with, we’ll set out to take care of the animal.”

 

She flashed a pretty smile and thanked us, then left.

 

I hopped down from the bed. “Looks like Glennsworth has already moved on. He just sent a message saying he paid us the fifteen-hundred.”

 

Jord leapt onto his bed. “Good. I'm glad that asshole's off the ship.”

 

I started thinking about that book and how I'd never lay eyes on it again. “Yeah, I guess you're right.”

 

“C’mon, let’s unload our stuff. Grab the brew, too. I get the feeling this place is dry.”

 

****

 

By the time we’d finished unpacking, it was midday. The white sun beamed down on Melville — and directly onto my head. Anura was often cloudy and rainy, so I wasn't used to the constant sunlight. Jord suggested we should go to the infirmary and pick the brains of the physicians and surviving patients — if there were any. So, we headed down the road.

 

Hidden between the lab and one of the larger storehouses, the infirmary looked as plain and minimal in appearance as the Brick, and most of the other structures in Melville. If it weren't for the red, wooden cross out front, I'd have never known the building's function. We entered the automated door and followed the sounds of agitated moans down the hallway. The hallway ended, and we entered a giant room, filled with fifty or so beds. Every single bed was filled. Had every patient there been a victim of the animal attack? Doctor Rupert was next to a patient in the center of the room. She waved us over.

 

She was assessing a middle-aged Human with salt-and-pepper hair. He babbled whenever she asked him a question. She checked his pupils, tested the strength of each limb, and asked him to follow a series of commands. He wouldn't follow her commands (or maybe he wasn't even aware of them). It was like he was adrift, floating in dreamland. I tried looking him in the eyes, but he stared through me like I didn't exist. I snapped my fingers in his face to see if he'd react. Nothing.

 

“Mister Cadel, Jord, what brings you here?” Doctor Rupert asked. She scanned the patient's body with a beeping, handheld device.

 

I cringed when she referred to Jord by his first name. I said, “We're here to gather some information that will help us understand—”

 

“—to understand what we're dealing with,” Jord cut me off. “That way, we will understand what level of firepower and tactics to use against it.”

 

She nodded and looked impressed. At least, that was good for our brand. My dad had harped on branding and public image a lot in the last chapter I’d read. But, I had to say, I didn't appreciate Jord cutting me off.

 

“I see. I'm willing to help in any way I can. What sort of information do you need?” she asked.

 

Screw it, I thought, and just let Jord talk. I would have botched it, anyway.

 

“We need to assess the type and severity of their wounds and gather some eyewitness accounts of the attacks,” Jord replied.

 

I couldn't help myself; I had to cut in. If I was going to pose as the CEO of Omnigalactic, I needed to act like it. I pointed at a crusty, elderly Human in a bed marked “30”. “How about this Human? Is he a survivor?”

 

“Yes, but his current state is unrelated to the attack.”

 

“That's strange,” I said. “I mean, I'm no doctor, but he looks psychologically traumatized.”

 

“That was my first thought, but imaging scans revealed he has early-onset frontotemporal dementia,” she replied. “Somehow, he slipped past our pre-op health screen.”

 

Jord took her by the hand and guided her away from the patient. My cheeks burned. I asked the Pantheon why he was acting that way and hoped for some kind of answer or sign. Doctor Rupert said something about the patients in the corner and took him there. I stayed behind. If I had to see any more of it, I was going to lose my temper, and that was not good for branding. It showed instability within the company.

 

I heard someone rambling behind me. If that guy had made it past the pre-operation health screen, then it was probably another dementia case. I turned around and saw someone in blue robes. It was Glennsworth.

 

He held that strange, leather-bound book in front of the patient's face. The patient started to scream in bloodcurdling terror. Then, they scurried backward in the bed and covered their head with the sheets, as if in absolute fear of the book.

 

Doctor Rupert yelled and ran toward Glennsworth, her shoes clicking with every step. He looked at her and darted out of the infirmary. She gave up chase and waved a nurse over. “Make sure that man, whoever he is, doesn’t set foot in here again.” She returned to Jord and showed him the other patients. What had he been doing, showing the book to that patient, when he wouldn't tell us anything?

 

I felt a tug at my bomber jacket. The dementia patient pulled me toward him, within inches of his face. His breath reeked of stale blood and tooth decay. “The eye! Pray for the eye! Pray for the—”

 

I shoved him off me. “Let go of me, you crazy psycho!”

 

“Mister Cadel!” Doctor Rupert yelled. “Don't you dare assault my patients!”

 

“He grabbed me!” I defended myself, adjusting my jacket.

 

“Don't worry, Ellen,” Jord stepped in. “We got all the info we need. We'll be going now.”

 

“Ellen?” I asked. “Just like that, you're on a first-name basis with her?”

 

Jord pulled me away from the crazy patient and took me into the hallway. I could still hear the patient, screaming about eyes and whatnot. We left the infirmary and headed toward the construction site.

 

“What are you doing, man?” I asked.

 

“Relax,” Jord said. “I almost have it all figured out. Just need a bit more.”

 

“I didn't attack that guy.”

 

“I know you didn't. You saw him; the guy was crazy.”

 

I stopped, and my boots sunk into the fine, white sand. “And what's up with you cutting me off like that? I thought I was supposed to be the CEO. You're making me look like a joke.”

 

He cocked his head from side to side. “You're kind of digging your own hole, bud. I'm just trying to take away your shovel.”

 

I sighed. Maybe he was right. It was hard, shaking off my tendency to be a screw-up. I decided to change the subject. “I saw Glennsworth in the infirmary. He was showing his book to one of the patients.”

 

“And?” Jord asked. “What about it?”

 

“You don't think that's weird?”

 

He waved it off with his cyborg hand. “I don't care about what he's doing. All I care about is the contract. C'mon.”

 

I followed him through Melville, passing by beeping forklift mechs as they stomped along the main road.

 

“So, why are we heading to the construction site?” I asked.

 

“A bunch of the guys do maintenance work on the structure that houses the ruins under the water.”

 

“Under the water?”

 

“There's an underwater dome around the ruins. The guys who were attacked do maintenance on it to keep water from leaking into the site. Some of them may have seen the animal.”

 

I nodded. “What do you think we're dealing with?”

 

“It's big, vicious, and aggressive. But, it's nothing I haven't dealt with before. Just need some confirmation.”

 

We went down to the construction site and questioned the workers. They looked tough and dependable. Their stories matched up with what Jord had said. The animal was the size of a tank, but struck as fast as a trapdoor spider. I’d seen a nature show about those things once. Imagine minding your own business, then suddenly, you’re in the iron clasp of a hungry, eight-legged monster, slowly sinking its fangs into you and secreting venom to liquify your organs, only to have them sucked out. I shuddered just thinking about it.

 

Despite our limited knowledge of the beast, one thing was for sure: We were going to need the big guns. This animal, this thing, whatever it was… it was more than willing to kill.

 

Once we finished with the construction workers, we headed back to the Brick to get a good night’s sleep. We were going to need it for the next day, when we would finally confront it. I wasn’t looking forward to that.

****

 

I lay there in bed, eyes itchy and red. It must've been three hours since Jord and I had turned in for the night. He was fast asleep, rattling my bed with his snores. I swore he could have slept just about anywhere, under any condition. This one time, on a hunting trip, a vicious, sky-cracking thunderstorm roared down onto our campsite. Rainwater smacked the outside of our tent like rocks thrown against a sheet of aluminum, crudely punctuated by lightning strikes. I never fell asleep, but Jord - he slept the whole night away.

 

I sighed hard, threw the covers off myself, and sat up. Was I nervous? Maybe, but I didn't feel like it was about the job itself. My world was so unlike how it had been a couple weeks ago. I was out-of-sync, like a twin-engine craft with only one engine working. I couldn't fly straight, no matter how hard I tried.

 

I snuck out of the room, taking careful measures, so my steps made only hints of noise. The door hissed open as I crept out and down the stairs. I headed toward the beach, where the high tides crashed against the white sand. I took a deep breath, and brine filled my mouth. I would've thought of Anura, but most of the water there was fresh. Instead, I thought of the time my dad and I went fishing on Danara, the first Anuran colony.

 

For two days, we’d fished the torrential waters aboard a tiny boat, hoping to catch that one good silver vanarfish. We must've been a hundred miles off the coast. If we’d capsized, that would've been the end of us; we would’ve been dead. I remember shaking from the wind and rain, trickles of warm urine running down the insides of my waders. I was sure Dad was scared too, but he’d never showed it. He’d kept us out there. “We're not leaving 'til we take one home to eat,” he’d said. “Keep your eyes on the line, and your hands on the rod, no matter what happens.”

 

My hands had been chafed raw from torrents of rain, and battering waves of saltwater. I’d wanted to let go so badly. Then, the line tugged, and the rod bent inward, and my kid-sized body slid across the “slide-resistant” deck. I dug my boots into the metal d-rings that lined the sides of the boat and whipped the rod back toward myself. My hands stung, and my arms ached with each pull. Dad rushed over, urging me on. “Don't give up, son!”

 

I’d tried to pass it off to him. I couldn't do it. He'd just shoved it right back into my hands. But, it was too much; my arms fell to my sides, limp from exhaustion, and the rod flew overboard and into the churning ocean, gone forever to the depths.

 

I'll never forget the look of utter disappointment on my dad's face. His eyes bored into mine like two violet laser beams. I’d looked away in shame, the way only a failed son could understand. That wasn't the worst of it, though. It was what he’d said. “Never in my life did I think for a second that I'd raise a quitter. But here it is, happening before my eyes. Your grandfather would've tossed you overboard, son. It'll take some work, but I refuse to quit on you.”

 

I kicked a lump of sand in front of me as the tide swept in, washing the memory away. Footsteps rustled softly in the sand behind me. I turned to see Doctor Rupert walking toward me, still dressed in her white coat.

 

“Hello, Doctor,” I said. “What brings you out here so late?”

 

She whipped out a pack of cigarettes, lit one up, and took a long drag. I watched the tiny ring of fire as it burned down the cigarette. She exhaled a thick cloud of smoke. “I finally had a chance to take a break from that hellhole. Needed to clear my mind.”

 

I winced. “That bad, eh?”

 

“You have no idea,” she said, shaking her head. “Patients urinating and defecating themselves, bleeding all over the place, shouting nonsense and unable to understand reasoning, respiratory infections, gastrointestinal bleeds, traumatic injuries… the list goes on.”

 

“That does sound like a lot to deal with. But hey, it's a labor of love, right?”

 

She took another drag. “I don't know why I do this. Why we do this.”

 

My eyes narrowed. “‘We’? What're you getting at?”

 

“Why we try to cheat death, you know?” she said, exhaling. “None of it means anything, anyway. Organisms come into existence, they live and hope to reproduce, only to die. That's it. And here I am, trying to preserve those with meaningless existences.”

 

“Whew, that's some heavy stuff, Doctor. You must've had a really rough day.”

 

She stayed silent, eyes fixated on the tide. Her hair blew in the gentle breeze.

 

“Wait, you don't seriously believe that, do you?” I asked. “That it all amounts to nothing? That's kind of depressing. How do you wake up in the morning?”

 

She continued to gaze out at the sea. “Because I have to do something, Mister Cadel. I have to find meaning in it all. I have to find meaning in my own life. I get up in the morning… because others need me. They'll die if I don't.” She turned to look at me. “And more will die if you don't get rid of this thing.”

 

I froze. “I, uh, you can count on me.”

 

“I'm not the one counting on you,” she said and pointed at Melville. “They are.”

 

I watched her flick the cigarette onto the sand, turn, and walk away. Probably back to the infirmary, where all the sick and crazies were.

 

What had I gotten myself into? This was too much pressure. I wished I was back in the commercial shipping game, where the job was easy, and nobody's life depended on me.

 

I headed back toward the Brick to get some sleep. As I trudged through the sand and onto the asphalt, I hoped it would be the one time I didn't mess it all up.