17:24
Trails of steam escaped from the stainless steel mug that Bob held in his hand. Three of us were sharing a small round table at Hercules’ Bunk, a small-time coffee shop on board the Hercules. They serve probably the best scones you can find around Martian orbital sector. Tuck drew a long breath before slumping back on his chair.
“That’s some heavy shit you got goin’ there,”
“Yeah. Sorry to say, Chief, but this whole deal about your talking crystals does get a wee bit hard to believe,”
“Look, guys. You’re the only ones I can trust, you gotta believe me!”
“Well, Bob said it all right, as for me, I still can’t believe it,”
“It’s not like we don’t trust you. But if you do need us to get you through this shit, then hell, we’ll give you an arm and a leg for it!”
“Yeah. I mean, you did that for us dincha? You took us in when nobody on Perseus wanted to hire us.”
“Well, I didn’t think I could convince you so easily. But I really do need your help this time. Thanks for sticking with me.”
“Hey, don’t sweat it, Chief.”
I had to admit, I love these guys. We decided to take some time off our jobs and pay a visit to Perseus and see what’s become of it. I wouldn’t be surprised if it had already became a no-access zone. We’d probably have to sneak our way through. I just hoped the crystals were still there. The next sol*, we met up at the hangar bay and secretly went out on one of the EVAMs available.
*[One 'sol' is one day on mars. One 'day' is reserved for a day on Earth]
Since we were travelling against the direction Perseus’ orbital vector, we figured we would be able to reach there in half the time it would take to reach Hercules from Perseus. Still, it took us well over half an hour before we even got Perseus on the scanner.
“Let’s dock at the civil block to resupply, Bob. We’re gonna need it.”
“Roger.”
Contrary to my expectations, Perseus appeared to be completely deserted. There were no signs of orbital security patrol ships anywhere. I immediately asked Tuck to be on the lookout for beacons or markers left behind by any authorities. Something’s not right, I can feel it. We proceeded with much caution.
“No beacons or sensors within range, Chief. Except maybe that,”
Tuck pointed to a communications satellite. It looked like it got into a collision course with another satellite; one of its solar panels have gone missing, and the broadcasting module seemed to be broken. There were no signs of engine life either. I suppose it ran out of juice a long time ago. Probably drifted here when the protoplasmic waves went apeshit around this sector.
“We’re going to approach the civil block hangar, soon. I think we’d better act quick; get our supplies, get out and get to the engineering block ASAP. Chief?”
“Yeah. We can investigate this block later. Tuck, come with me. We’re just gonna grab fuel and oxygen, and then we’re off. Don’t kill the engines, Bob, we’re taking off as soon as we get back.”
“Aye-aye, Chief.”
We zig-zagged across the block, hoping to find some supplies. Atmospheric pressure and gravity has not been restored yet. There wasn’t anyone, not even a corpse, in sight.
“This is really like a ghost town aint’ it, Chief?”
“What, you’re feeling like a cowboy, now?”
“Gimme a horse - naw, give me a bike and a squirt gun and I’d bring a lariat to complete the look. Hmm… Ol’ Steve’s got one in ‘is locker last time I saw.”
“Oh yeah, that roommate of yours. He’s from Texas, right?”
“Sure. Heh, he smuggled some of those Texan beer onto Perseus last time. He talked everyone into having a can. That lame-ass beer tasted worse than horse shit I’m tellin’ ya, the hangar boys decided to fill up a squirt gun with it and gave ‘im a decent shower.”
“Kids.”
“Hate to burst your beer bubbles guys, but could you two get us our supplies isntead of chit-chatting over the radio? Someone could be listening in.”
“Whoops, sorry about that, Bob,” I almost forgot our situation.
“Geez, Chief, you really should know better.”
My left hand felt a sudden tingle. The tingling sensation felt stronger when I pointed it toward a blast door. You’re trying to tell me something? Tuck followed curiously behind me as I approached the door a little closer and the tingles felt stronger, like pins and needles. The moment I placed a hand on that door, it stopped. No tingles, no pins, nothing. You want me to go in here?
“What is it, Chief?”
“I don’t know. I think something wants me to go through this door.”
“Well, this whole place is powered down. We’re gonna have to force our way through this blast door if you really wanna get through.”
“I figured that much.”
“Do we really have to go through this door?”
“I don’t know. I’m not sure. But it’s worth trying.”
“Bob, ya hear? Can ya check if we got any firepower on that EVAM?”
“Yea sure, let me check. Hmm…I’ll get back to you as soon as I find something.”
I tried looking for other options. Air vents, garbage shafts, anything we could fit through. My hand then started tingling again. It continued to guide me behind some crates before it stopped. There was a stockpile covered under some green cloth. What’s hiding under these sheets? I pulled the covers away, and found something very interesting.
“A bunch of protoplasma tanks? What do we need these for, Chief?”
“I’ve got an idea.”
Protoplasma is a very unique substance that naturally exists in a transluscent green liquid form but with a very low boiling point. Since it vaporises into gas at 10°C, it’s usually stored in compressed tanks, where it remains in liquid form until it’s released via an injections mechanism to operate a warp system.
However, the civil block was unpowered and the life-support systems weren’t running either, hence the temperature there was low enough for protoplasma exist in liquid form even outside the tanks.
Tuck and I then sprayed protoplasma into any crevices, nooks and crannies we could find on the blast door. I only hoped that the protoplasma seeped through. Blobs of protoplasma were floating everywhere due to absence of gravity, but protoplasma is only as harmful as soy sauce to humans. Luckily for us the protoplasma’s viscosity allowed us to paint it on most of the blast door’s surface. I reached into my backpack,and pulled out a little plastic pouch. I knew this would be useful.
“Whatcha gonna do with those blue dust?”
“Just watch.” Please, please work.
I took a little pinch of the blue crystal dust and sprinkled it onto the wet protoplasma. After the sprinkles made first contact with the green liquid, a carpet of thin blue hairs begun to spread out and covered the surfaces painted with protoplasma.
Before long, the floors and walls shook around us. Dents started appearing on the blast door and the walls around it. I started to get excited as my plan began to work. My hands started tingling again. Instinctively, I held out a hand toward the blast door and the tingling got stronger. I moved my hand around and saw the dents moving left and right as if followinf my hand’s lead.
Tuck could only look at me in awe. I held out both hands, about a foot apart from each other. Both hands were trembling and tingling, but I quickly brought them together into a clasp. As though responding to my hand movements, huge blue crystal spikes burst out from each side of the blast door, and clasped up together like my hands, instantly crushing the door between them. I pulled my hands away, and the crystals rectracted.
I took a deep breath and relaxed, and soon noticed that the crystals began shrinking away to merely thin chunks of crystal and blue hairs covering the walls. After the crystals retracted, a huge gaping hole stood where the blast door once was.
As much as I was surprised, I was also somewhat indifferent. As though what I performed was as common as picking my nose.
“Holiest of shits! How didja do that, Chief? THAT WAS AWESOME!!”
“Chief, Bob here. The best I could find here is a multipurpose laser-cutter. I think you’ll have to find something else if you’re thinking heavy-duty.”
“Forget that, Bob! The Chief just broke down that blast door by himself!”
“He did what?”
Technically, that was what I did. I don’t know how I did it, or why I was capable of doing it. I’m currently feeling a little bit overwhelmed about all this. Was this what the crystal voice wanted? What does it want me to do with this, this, power? And why me?
Regardless, the crystals pointed me in this direction. Perhaps I could find some answers in this room.
Previously:
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