Darren Wearmouth - The Critical Trilogy Box Set

“You heard from Master Control?” Erika said.

“Briefly, we managed to get instructions.”

“What’s stasis preservation?” Ethan said.

“If we take a big hit, come under attack, lose power or whatever. All operational resources are to concentrate on restoring or maintaining essential services, the main engines and stasis units. We’re earmarked for the stasis wing. There’s a lot of important people down there.”

“Why didn’t we know about this?” Maria said.

“It falls to the senior member to take responsibility, which is me since Jimmy left. Priority-wise, we’re a second tier service.”

“Is it a code for the airlock?” Erika said.

“It’s exactly that,” Ben said. “We’re going down to help the stasis team. My guess is that engineering will sort this place out later.”

“Do you think they’ll let us stay? Send others here?” Ethan said.

“It’s not even worth thinking about—”

The compartment rattled after a loud external boom. They skidded sideways, Ben grabbed the handle of the supply hatch to maintain balance. Erika screamed. Ethan grabbed Ben’s shoulder. His face contorted with terror.

“Keep your cool. We’ll get through this,” Ben said.

The crew pressed themselves against the metallic wall for support.

Maria clutched Ben’s wrist. “Two minutes, they said.”

He nodded. “Let’s get out of here.”

Ben traversed the corridor to the airlock. Held the card next to the silver keypad and started punching in the numbers.

The three joined Ben, crouching around him in anticipation for another jolt.

A green LED to the side of the buttons lit up after he keyed in the last digit. A white light winked above the airlock and the countdown timer started at fifty-nine seconds.

“Bet you didn’t expect this on your first day?” Maria said.

“It’s going to be okay, right?” Ethan said.

“We’ll be fine. Trust me,” Ben said.

The truth was, he didn’t know what the hell was happening. For the past thirteen years he’d robotically carried out his shifts, eaten, slept and studied. This was as new to him as it was to the new arrival.

Whooshing from behind the airlock grew louder. The timer neared zero.

“Ready guys?” Ben said.

The airlock slid open with reassuring hiss. Light filled the corridor.

Ben stepped into the bright silver space. The others joined him. He looked over to Maria who returned his gaze.

A neutral female voice came from the internal speaker. “Door closing.”

CHARLIE YAWNED and reached over the dashboard of his truck to get his wayfarer shades. The sun’s glared reflected off his rear-view mirror. The clock on the dashboard indicated it had just turned 8am.

Some overly loud radio presenter was just finishing up the morning show. He mistook himself for Robin Williams in Good Morning Vietnam , only he didn’t have the talent and this wasn’t the 60s, but still, the next track on was James Brown’s ‘ I Feel Good .’

Despite himself, Charlie sang along as he cruised across the deserted Virginia Dare Memorial bridge that connected Roanoke Island with the North Virginia mainland. They’d be at the dig site in the Alligator River National Wildlife Refuge in less than thirty minutes.

“Jesus,” Pippa said, sitting up from her slouched position in the passenger chair, wiping at her eyes. “How can anyone be so damned perky at this time of morning? Especially after that journey.”

“It’s only been nine hours. We’ve made good time. Come one, Pip, sing with me. I feel nice! Sugar and spice.”

Pippa turned the radio down. “I don’t know what’s worse: your singing or your chirpy mood. Have you taken something while I was asleep?”

Charlie grinned. He hadn’t taken anything, but the thrill of the road trip and the discovery was enough to keep him buzzing all day. He loved these kinds of trips, driving across the state, watching dawn approach. It had a sense of change to it, the colors in the sky brightening, bringing with them a new sense of momentum, a promise of new adventures and truths waiting to be uncovered.

“Don’t be a grouch, Pip. We could be making massive news by the end of the day. Think of the opportunities. You’ll be more famous than Zavi Rammas.”

“Zahi Hawass,” Pip corrected.

“Yeah, that dude.”

Charlie continued on taking Highway 64 through Manns Harbor, leaving the glistening Croatoan Sound behind. A few gulls were busy fishing as he continued toward the mainland.

A few more cars appeared on the road, but being an early Saturday morning, the place still felt like it was deserted. Charlie always liked this part of the world. Lots of greenery. It felt natural. The Wildlife Refuge itself was one of the first places he had visited here once he was approached to survey the place.

“If we have time, you fancy hiring some kayaks for a trip down Mill Tail Creek? I hear it’s a real nice trip heading up to Alligator River.”

“I don’t do boat trips,” Pippa said. “I prefer a nice quiet diner and some food. I’m starving.”

“There’s still some donuts in the back.”

“Want one?” Pippa asked.

“Nah, I’m good. I’ll get some eggs in town after we’ve finished at the dig. So tell me, if we check it out and prove the beads were definitely there at the time, and by now we know for definite the freaky little bastards aren’t human made, at least from that period, what’s your guess? Or let me rephrase: what do you want them to be?”

Pippa pulled the small brown bag into the front. The bottom was darkened by grease. She took out a chocolate covered donut and bit into it, her cheeks puffing like a hamster as she talked. “Well. It’s got to be aliens, right?” She swallowed the donut and washed it down with a bottle of water. “I mean it needs to be something that was technologically advanced beyond anything we’ve seen before. Even now, they would be a technological marvel. So other than extraterrestrial origins, and that could either be aliens or perhaps they came down on a meteorite or something, the only other explanation would be time-travel and that’s just as mental.”

Charlie slowed as a tractor pulled out on the road from a farm to his left. He waited for a clear space and throttled his Ram truck, speeding past the farmer. He held his hand up as he passed and got a wave back from the farmer.

“Friendly people,” Charlie said. “I wonder how they’ll react when this place becomes home to a million news reporters. You realize that if this is what it seems, and it gets out, it’ll be the biggest news story in human history.”

“That’s what scares me the most. It’s so … out there. What if we’re discredited? You know what the media is like. We could have our careers ruined.”

“Or it could make our careers. Why be pessimistic about it?”

“I don’t know. I just don’t trust the media. How many times have we seen a historical program butchered for accuracy to sensationalize something, or to make it more entertaining? The media don’t do truth. They’ll have us as crazy scientists with a crackpot theory.”

“Fuck them,” Charlie said. “We’ll do this right. We’ll figure it out based on evidence. No one will be able to accuse us of not doing our due diligence.”

A police cruiser with its light flashing shot past Charlie’s truck, its siren blaring. Behind a fire truck followed.

In the distance, Charlie saw a dust cloud rise. “Is that… from the dig site?”

Pippa leaned forward and squinted. “I don’t know for sure. It’s in the same direction.”

Charlie floored the accelerator and followed the fire truck and police cruiser. With each mile the anxiety built inside. It seemed they were going the same way. As they approached a turning, he muttered to himself, “Please don’t turn.”