Ally or Alien: A Sci-Fi Novel (25 page)

Ten years of therapy right there.

Thank God eLoom interrupted his self-reflection from spiraling into darkness.

"What a spellbinding story, Bellrock. And here I thought you were a blast-everything soldier who wanted to wipe out everything in his way."

"Only in my worst moments," Bellrock said with a smile.

"So why didn't you return to your old job in Japan after the war?"

Good question.

Probably the number one question that Bellrock had asked himself every single day for the last decade. He considered going back. Heck, with his track record, he could have easily found work at Onimech or another tech giant.

So why didn't he?

"I don't know. The war changed me. When I had arrived from Mars, I set up base in Texas and waited for my treatment. I tried to get used to the civilian life again. One month turned into three, three turned into a year. And a year turned into ten."

The silence spread between the two. Bellrock had never shared that personal experience with anyone but Taurus. It felt oddly relieving to let it all out, even to a Newtype. 

Strange life. 

eLoom said,

"I am recording your answers for eVax. You are the single proof that humans are not the war-mongering berserkers that 73% of Newtype make you out to be."

"I doubt that will change his mind. You know, once you're locked into a mindset, it's hard to switch. People are junkies to their world views, I'm sure that is true for Newtype as well."

She sighed, or at least it sounded like it.

"That is unfortunately true. A significant number of Newtype express the human traits they claim to hate. If we could only focus on the aspects both of our races share..."

"Well, now we have a common enemy."

Down on Mars, gulping down the mechanical devices and growing bigger because of it.

"What do you think it really wants?" eLoom said.

"The biomorph? Well, hundreds of destroyed droids and an infested facility should give you a clue. It's an amoral alien hellbent on destruction."

She hummed, but Bellrock could tell by now she didn't share his sentiment. 

"I am not so sure. All the time, we have assumed it was the alien, but what if it wasn't?"

"What?"

Silence.

"I was going to tell you earlier, Bellrock, but we were busy surviving."

"Spit it out.”

"I believe the biomorph is an artificial construct that was created by another life form."

Mind twist. 

"By who?"

"I don't know, I really don't. But it uses self-replicating nanotechnology that is similar to ours, only more enhanced. Its programming seems to revolve around a simple fight-or-flight response. Maybe it's a defensive mechanism to eliminate hostile sentient life forms...like us."

Bellrock intervened. 

"But we didn't attack it first. You found it on an asteroid, right?"

"Yes. We discovered it on Pandora-5, one of the many asteroids we were doing research on. Whoever created the biomorph must have deliberately planted it there. I am not supposed to tell you this, but I believe the original creator uses comets and asteroids as carriers to infiltrate different sectors of the solar system with a biomorph core unit. Similar to how viruses on Earth use human hosts to reproduce and spread their infection."

It took a while for Bellrock to piece the puzzle together. He almost didn't want to ask the question.

"Hold on, are you implying there are more of them out there?"

eLoom hesitated.

"I do not know, you have to believe me. But one fine sol in the near future, I will discover the truth behind the biomorph's intent. I want to meet its original creator."

Bellrock closed his eyes and prepared for a little sleep before the arrival. 

"Let's hope we both survive long enough to find out."

He awaited eLoom’s answer, but she froze on her ergo seat and expressed a glance devoid of emotion. Bellrock recognized that behavior—it occurred every time an update or important message connected with her neural network.

"What happened?"

"Oh no," she said to him while focusing on some invisible spot in the distance.

60

Whatever happened next happened too fast. 

The vibrations shook up the climber module. 

Heavy jolts that not even the ergo seats could swallow up. 

Bellrock yelled,

"What the hell happens?"

eLoom replied.

”The space-elevator tube has split itself up a few hundred kilometers above us."

"How?"

"I don't know. The direct tube line to the ringstation is disconnected."

She seemed helpless for the first time, even though her movements remained controlled. Bellrock ground his teeth and said,

"Aren't you still connected to the Exec? Ask them what happened."

Before he finished the sentence, eLoom's reply shot over her lips.

"They say this climber module has been infected by the biomorph. They're not letting us reach the ringstation."

Her eyes flamed up.

"The Exec says it's going to purge this vessel."

Purge?

Wonderfully flabby speech for wiping out the shuttle and everyone in it. 

Bellrock ordered eLoom to unwrap his seat. He checked his oxygen supply and glanced at the closed hatch five meters to his right side.

"How much longer till the tube hole?"

"23 seconds."

He pointed toward the hatch.

"Can you manually open this?"

"Yes, but what do you propose?"

"We're leaving a sinking ship."

The vessel decelerated which reduced the Gs pressing the two down. Up high, through the ceiling of the climber shuttle, Bellrock detected the end of their nano-tube. The Exec must have disconnected it from the main line leading back to the ringstation. Damn bastards. Without any warning, they were going to let them die during the ride.

Not on his watch.

Bellrock breathed in one last time and waved over eLoom.

"Open the hatch. Then hold onto me—we're leaving."

The second the shuttle reached the open end of its nano-tube, eLoom opened the hatch and clung to Bellrock's suit. He activated the thrusters on his EVA and escaped the climber unit before it derailed from the end of the tube. The duo shot into the cosmic void...

61

Keep your heart on lockdown.

In and away

Keep your solar panels shown

everyday

Keep your spirits light

and spacesuit up tight

Keep your warning sirens

strobing mega-bright

The J-pop blazed through his suit’s internal speakers. eLoom’s arms wrapped his EVA-suited ribcage. Some kind of liquid squeezed out from the tubes around the neck section of her spacesuit. The transparent substance engulfed her head and made her look as if she had dipped her face into sugary syrup. She formed her lips but to no avail—Bellrock couldn't hear anything. So he simply gave her a nod, which was the interplanetary gesture for Everything's Gonna Be Alright, and adjusted the thrusters on his backpack via the control-panel on his right arm.

He saw the climber shuttle spiraling into the void as it shattered. 

As if an invisible hand had crushed it with one squeeze.

A thousand pieces brittled.

Debris projectiles on the run.

These Newtype had really blasted their climber unit, Bellrock thought.

He dashed away from the shredder trajectories. It was tougher than it sounded, because his helmet display couldn't detect the debris like the Newtype tech could.

No red lines, no warning signs. 

He was still dressed for the wrong occasion.

Sorry, it was just human tech.

And with no means of communication, he had to rely on his instinct. Bellrock navigated around the darkness, leaving the orbit of Mars which was thankfully not as strong as Earth.

Thrust down to 87%.

Oxygen supply: 54%.

Bellrock wondered if he had enough energy to reach the ringstation. It looked so close, within a grab's reach, a white little ring to wrap around one's finger. But it must have been at least five thousand klicks away, if not more. And his EVA suit thrusters were only made for short-term traveling to do exterior work on stations and ships.

He looked at eLoom hanging onto him like a clingy girlfriend. He framed a smile, but she was probably too smart to see through his shtick. Despite being impartial to emotions, Newtype were pretty astute at detecting them. With no sense of direction, Bellrock focused on the white ring guiding his way through the cosmic void. 

Going full thrust

with endless fire inside

During the flight, he watched his oxygen levels dropping at a rapid pace, which increased his heartbeat and shallow breaths, which in return increased his oxygen consumption.

It was a devilish circle.

eLoom looked like she wanted to communicate, but with her head being wrapped by the syrupy substance, and her mind shut from his, her attempts were in vain. Bellrock formed his lips into a Do Not Worry and hoped she would get the message. 

He thrust toward the ringstation, which still loomed as far away as ever.

That tiny white ring in the far away distance.

Like a magic castle in a fable story.

No matter how much you neared it, the castle always remained illusive. 

Bellrock swallowed as he eyed his stats with rising concern.

Oxygen supply down to 41.5%, thrust lowered to 74.2%.

Yes, he was going to choke before losing propulsion. 

Still, he had to keep on flying. 

Better to die during action than to admit defeat. 

And because the void started to freak him out, he switched to another Shibuya Burn title, which calmed him down and thus lowered his oxygen consumption. 

Heart pain, a fate full of fears

you fight through

amidst the flash fire of war

with closed eyes, open ears

you long for

voices from a distant star

Oxygen down to 25%, as indicated by an orange semi-transparent menu on the lower-right of his helmet HUD. Reason to panic, but with eLoom's tight grip and the band blasting through his ear channels, Bellrock thrust on.

He had to. 

Following that halo in space.

His beacon of hope.

Was he even making progress? Maybe his desperation made him see things that weren't there. Maybe he was as far away from the station as ever. He looked back at eLoom as she was forming her mouth into an O-form, whatever that meant.

I'm sorry, Bellrock thought, but I can't hear you.

I can only guide you back to safety, or die trying.

Oxygen down to 18.7%, oh boy. Damn Newtype cared about an alien life form that tore apart their entire infrastructure, but wouldn't bother to help out two humanoids. How twisted was that? 

To hell with them. 

Never rely on other people, or humanoids, for that matter. Thrust your own way through life, even if you had only 45% left. Bellrock breathed slowly and quieted his mind.

Faint memories of Japan snuck in.

Days of a better life, full of meaning and clarity.

Little snippets of mundanity.

Steaming Ramen noodle soup, the early morning walk through the tight corridors of Neo-Tokyo's tech quarters, flavored with the scent of spring and cooked beef. Bellrock shook his head inside the helmet, as if that would rid him off his previous life. He focused only on the white halo while his confidence fired up with more Shibuya Burn.

Back from your troubled past

your full-metal orbital blast

back to action, quit the ponder

going astray from the path isn't sin

as long as you deeply wonder

What it's like not to lose but to win?

With oxygen levels falling below 8%, Bellrock felt dizzy. His mind wasn't as sharp anymore, the vision started to falter. Far away, he still saw the halo ring flickering like a beacon of light. 

Luring him in.

At the other end of the space tunnel.

Except his one moved around in a curved trajectory, which seemed awkward. 

The station couldn't move like that, or could it?

No, this wasn't the ringstation, this was...

62

...some kind of vessel...

Bellrock narrowed his eyes but the vision deteriorated. Oxygen dropped to below 5%, a red warning sign flashed the HUD of his helmet. 

Thanks, commander obvious, I know I'm one minute away from choking in space.

He wanted to mouth it, but failed to do so.

His mind whirled around like a tornado of confusion. Bellrock felt like going cold turkey after a week of binge-drinking. Forming a single, coherent thought was...

So

Damn

Challenging

The white object moved closer—it was either on a collision course with him and eLoom or positioning itself for frontal assault. Too bad Bellrock had only one arm and no weapon systems left. He ignored the flashing warning signs of his helmet and sent one last glance at eLoom, whispering,

"I'm so sorry."

And he meant every. Single. Word.

Her response?

A smile warm enough to keep his body alive for another 30 seconds.

And now...

Bellrock's eyelids became heavy as titanium.

Mind a fogged up mess.

Breathing = choking.

He craned his neck one last time at the incoming attacker before he shut off.

Sayoonara, eLoom.

Goodbye Bellrock.

63

Echoes from far away. 

The clink clank of electronic devices, haunted by a humming. Different light sources shone through the cracks of Bellrock's eyelids. 

Was this heaven?

If the answer was yes, heaven was some state-of-the-art electronic wonderland.