Brian Evenson - Dead Space - Martyr

Then he was beneath it as it danced about, trying to skewer him. He cut off one leg, then another, but it didn’t seem to hurt its balance. He kicked it hard and knocked it back and scrambled back himself and then, knowing it would do little good, just to buy time, he whipped out the plasma pistol and started firing.

The shots flashed off its legs or entered the flesh of the body with a hiss, but hardly seemed to slow it. It was nearly over him again, and he kicked it back with both feet this time, succeeding in turning it off balance and flipping it over.

As it struggled to right itself, he saw again the pulsing yellow and black lump. He fired at it.

The lump exploded, the blast knocking him back through the doorway, deafening him. Bits of the creature struggled about, including one whole enough to come at him. He stood, stumbled toward it, sectioned it with the plasma cutter.

The blast had stressed the corridor, covering the walls with hairline cracks. Stumbling up, he inspected it for leaks. For now it seemed to be holding.

Limping, still deafened, he moved to the end of the corridor and pounded on the airlock hatch. No answer. “It’s Altman!” he called. “Let me through!”

When there was still no answer, he realized there was an easier way and established a comlink to Field through his holopod. Immediately the airlock slid open and he stumbled through.

“Altman,” said Field. He was clutching his Marker icon tight in one hand, closing the airlock behind him with the other. “Thank the Marker. I had just about given up hope.”

“Where’s Ada?” was the first question Altman asked.

“What do you mean?” asked Field. “Still confined to the mainland, I presume. I haven’t seen her in days.”

“But I saw her,” said Altman. “I saw her vid. She was right here.”

“I’m sorry,” said Field. “I haven’t seen her.”

Maybe it was the Marker, he thought. But how could that be? The Marker only showed dead people. But Ada wasn’t dead. And then his blood froze as he realized what he’d known ever since he’d dreamt of her earlier: Ada was dead.

Field grabbed his arm. “We have to go,” said Field. “I don’t know how long we’ll be able to keep them contained.”

“Where’s Markoff?” Altman asked.

“I don’t know,” said Field. “I think he must have packed up and left. Either that or he’s dead. Doesn’t matter much to me either way.”

Altman nodded.

“We’ll have to come back, you know,” said Field.

“What?” said Altman.

“We need to go get help and come back. We have to make sure this is contained. We have to protect the Marker.”

Altman followed him away from the airlock and upward, through a series of open chambers and then around a curving corridor to the main dome. They got on the lift and prepared to take it to the top, but it didn’t move.

“What’s wrong?” asked Altman.

Field shook his head. “Apparently the lift won’t run on the auxiliary power,” he said. “We’ll have to climb. After you.”

Altman slung the cutter over his back and started up the access ladder, Field right behind him. It was a narrow climb, not much room between the ladder and the wall, and it quickly became an arduous one as well. Already exhausted by what he had just been through, Altman found he had to focus on putting one foot in front of the other. Behind him, Field wasn’t doing much better; he was wheezing like he was about to pass out.

“Everything okay, Field?” Altman called down.

“I’ll live,” said Field. He started to say something further, then made a choking sound and was suddenly cut off.

Altman glanced down and saw that Field was being choked by something that looked like a whitish gray snake or a length of intestine. One end was curled tight around the ladder, the other tight around his throat. Field was scrabbling at his throat with one hand, trying to hold on to the ladder with the other. Altman started down toward him, shouting, while Field let go of the ladder, both hands on the strangler now.

Altman was still clambering down, just heaving the cutter off his back, almost ready to cut the thing in two. But Field wasn’t holding the ladder. If he cut through the creature, Field would fall.

“Field!” he cried. “Grab hold of the ladder!”

But Field didn’t seem to hear him. His face was purple now, and Altman saw that blood was leaking slowly from his ears. Altman stretched down and stamped on the end of the strangler holding to the ladder. It squirmed beneath his foot but didn’t let go. At the other end it gave a little wrenching jerk, and Field’s head popped off like a grape, thunking down to the floor below. The body, knocking against the walls and the ladder, swiftly followed it.

He watched the strangler slither down, moving swiftly and sinuously. When it reached the bottom, it moved in twisting undulating motions until it reached Field’s headless corpse. He watched it prod his stomach and then one end of it narrowed to a point and it stabbed through the skin. Slowly, throbbing, it forced itself into Field’s belly. The belly swelled and slowly distended, until with a last wriggle the creature had disappeared entirely.

Altman felt sick. He clung to the ladder a moment, staring down. He might have hung there for longer, but then a thought occurred to him. There might be more of them. Glancing nervously about him, he forced himself to continue up the ladder.

When he reached the hatch, he opened it and clambered out onto the deck, making sure it was securely closed behind him. He hoped the creatures wouldn’t be capable of opening it, but he didn’t know for sure.

He started clambering down the side of the dome, following the narrow steps cut in the glass. Below was the boat platform, slopping up and down with the swells. Most of the boats were gone, but one was left. He undid the mooring and climbed in.

The motor started immediately. Only then did it start to seem real, like he might actually get away, like he might actually survive.

And then he remembered Field, dead because he had waited for Altman. We’ll have to come back, Field had said. Make sure it’s contained.

No, thought Altman. I’m free of it. I’m not going back.

And then suddenly he felt a presence in the boat beside him, just behind him, just out of sight. He was afraid that if he turned, he would see Field, his head loose, in place but not connected to his neck, threatening to fall off at any moment.

Hello, Altman, someone said.

“Leave me alone, Field,” Altman said.

Are you coming back for me? Only, when he thought of it, it didn’t seem exactly like Field’s voice.

“You’re dead, Field. I can’t come back for you.”

But what about me? it said.

Definitely not Field’s voice. It was the voice of a woman now. He turned his head, saw Ada.

“Where are you, Ada? Who killed you?”

I’m right here. I need you, Michael, she said. I need you to finish what you started.

He shook his head. “You’re not Ada,” he said. “You’re a hallucination.”

It’s not finished, Michael. Everyone is in grave danger. You have to stop the Convergence.

“What is Convergence?” he asked.

You’ve seen the Convergence, Ada said. You need to stop it.

And then she disappeared. He put the boat in gear and pushed the throttle down hard. Damned if he could figure out what exactly she wanted from him. What it wanted from him. I’m not going back, he told himself, I’m not going back.

But he already was afraid he would.