Дэниел Смит - Below Zero

Their freedom would destroy Outpost Zero. That was what they wanted to tell him. They wanted to warn him.

But what are you? Zak needed to understand.

So the insects showed him.

A blinding blast of light and heat erupted in his mind, and in that energy, a billion tiny explosions created a cloud of gas that twisted and snaked like the tendrils of a smoky giant. When the gas faded into nothing, Zak saw the cold darkness of space, he saw planets form and break apart, he saw stars burning bright in the unreachable distance.

This is the beginning of everything , he thought. This is how the universe began . Why are you showing me this?

More images flashed through his mind like a movie played on fast-forward behind his eyelids. He felt as if he were cascading among the planets, passing through rock and space and stars, gaining speed, faster, faster, until it was impossible to focus, and everything was a blur of dark, light, time, energy and—

Everything stopped.

For a second, his thoughts were blank, and then his mind was filled with an image of a planet hanging in space. Earth.

On the surface of the planet, a swirling, white-crested blue sea crashed and foamed. Above it, two spirals of light twisted around each other, a double helix of glowing insects rising up. And as the insects reached the top of the spirals, they shed their hard casings, letting their bodies fall to the ocean, decomposing into a soup of cells that split and grew and became life.

Every creature on the planet came from these insects. The information Dad found in the lab – the DNA, the genomes, the stem cells – that’s what the insects were. They were the beginning of all life on earth, and in his vision Zak saw their cells grow into mammals, reptiles, birds, fish, insects… everything .

When Zak opened his eyes, he was back in the ice-cavern. The insects had returned to The Chasm, but Zak felt the ghost of their presence in his mind. He felt remnants of their fleshy bodies on his face, their life-creating cells soaking into his skin. It ran warm in his veins, moving through his body, filling his mind. He felt a calming release of pressure inside his brain, and when he looked around, he saw the world with new eyes. The insects had more right to be here than he did.

‘I think I understand,’ Zak said. ‘I think I know what you are.’

‘We’re about thirty minutes out,’ the pilot said. Lazarovich leant forward to see along the interior of the Osprey and into the cockpit.

‘Storm’s passed, weather’s looking good,’ Captain Jackson continued. ‘Maybe we’ll reach Zero a little ahead of time. Approaching from the south.’

‘Copy that.’ Lazarovich settled back into her seat and cast her eyes over the other operatives sitting either side of the Osprey interior.

Every one of them was faceless behind the visor of his or her battle helmet, but her own visor sensed who she was looking at, and their name appeared, as if by magic, floating in her vision. She didn’t need it though, didn’t need the technology to tell her who they were – Lazarovich knew them as well as she knew herself. She knew their strengths, their weaknesses, their build, their mannerisms. She had worked with them, lived with them, trained them. If they had all been wearing overalls, standing in a darkened room with sacks on their heads, Lazarovich could have picked out each one of them by name.

What she didn’t know was what to expect when she landed at Outpost Zero. As usual, Phoenix had given her as little information as possible. Secure the base, secure whatever those people had found under the ice, eliminate everyone, and await further instruction.

Most of it sounded straightforward – if there was one thing Lazarovich and her team knew how to do, it was to secure an enemy placement and leave no survivors – but one part of it was bothering her. The ‘secure whatever those people had found under the ice’ part. Something about it felt… off.

An alert symbol appeared in the top right of her visor display. The word ‘ PHOENIX’ was written beside it.

‘Open message,’ Lazarovich said, and an image popped up in place of the alert. It appeared to be hovering in the air on the other side of the cabin.

Lazarovich studied the updated thermal satellite image. It was immediately obvious that the heat signature below the ice had grown. The river of red now stretched from The Chasm in the east, all the way across to the centre of the natural basin in the land, where it ballooned. Outpost Zero was right in the centre of it, as if it were hanging over a giant sea of lava. Whatever was down there was big. Huge. Securing something that size could be problematic, especially when they didn’t even know what it was.

The airstrip was showing as pale blue on the edge of the red sea. It was cold and hard, ready for a good landing, but the Storage building was glowing dull orange – they would need to check it out. Lazarovich was thinking it might be where the base personnel were hanging out.

‘Close image.’ The image disappeared. ‘Open comms.’ Lazarovich waited for the click to indicate she was speaking to the whole team. ‘OK, listen up everyone. We’re thirty minutes out. Time to wake up, stop thinking about your comfy beds back home and your families waiting for you. I need full concentration.’ She paused. ‘I want a clean dispersal when we touch down. We’ll secure the landing zone. Team Two, you take The Hub, split two ways and sweep in both directions. You know the layout, I want the East and West Tunnels cleared. Eliminate everything. Team One with me on the ice – we’ll maintain the landing zone and sweep the outlying Storage building, then we’ll see what we’ve come all this way for. I want this clean, clear and careful. No casualties on our side. All eyes open and alert; I’ve got a bad feeling about this.’

‘Leader, you always say that.’

‘I know.’ Lazarovich focused on the operative sitting opposite her. ‘But this time I mean it.’

The lights were dimmed in The Broker’s ‘War Room’ and the temperature was exactly how he liked it. Beside him, on the table, was a mug of green tea. The design on the mug said ‘World’s Best Dad’. He picked it up without taking his eyes off the ultra-high-definition screens on the wall in front of him.

The display on the left showed a regularly updated satellite image of Outpost Zero. On the right, the last ten images were stacked together so he could see the growth of what was beneath the ice. Whatever it was, it had begun to increase in size at an incredible rate.

The centre screens showed images fed directly from Lazarovich’s team. Each operative had a camera set into their battle helmet so The Broker could watch them every step of the way. He never spoke to them, never communicated with them, but he was always watching. He saw what they saw.

Their eyes were his eyes.

The Broker sat back and cleared his throat. He raised his mug, but before it touched his lips he stopped and glanced at his hand. There was a slight tremble there, the tea rocking from side to side. He smiled, and allowed himself a moment to enjoy the buzz of nervous anticipation. After all, life and death was about to unfold on the screens in front of him. What could be more exciting than that?