Red Planet//Blue Planet

By Maxwell Davidson

“This is an historic moment, ladies and gentlemen. We are about to witness the first of what we expect will be many successful, manned landings to the surface of Mars. In one hour this team will have accomplished what no one would have believed..”
“Uh, sir?” A mousy voice squeaked up from a console. “We have an issue.”

Suddenly a hundred eyes swiveled on a frail-looking young woman in the first row. Three rows of tables held all manner of electronic screens in a semi-circle focused on the area where Commander Aryan Reynolds stood, backlit by a curved display wall showing ever-changing charts and readouts. Except now everyone, including a half-dozen TV crews, were focused on Melinda “Missy” Jennison, mission coordinator and second in command. She wasn't one to speak up, particularly when there were people looking, so the commander took time to growl, “yes ma’am? What is it?”

“Well sir, it seems the radiation calculation were incomplete. If they get outside the hab unit without full gear on, it could”

“Kill them, and they know that. These are trained professionals, Missy, not kids at space camp. Of course they have to get the hab there first. Which is why we’re all here, isn't it?” Reynolds switched the charm back on and faced the cameras.

“Actually sir it could alter their DNA in ways we can only partially predict.” Missy spat out quickly, then looked down.

“Well, we’ll pass that along. Thank you lieutenant. Now if you could all check out the video link that should be coming live in just a few moments…” the sensor readings spread out to make a frame, with only critical things like oxygen, sulfur, and radiation levels making a frame around a video feed from outside the ship, the Devos IX. Suddenly, a burst of static, and then a woman appeared with a smile and a wave.

“Hello, ground control!” She crowed. “Are we ready for this?”

“Good morning, Captain,” Reynolds replied, all smiles for the cameras himself. “We are ready here. What's the first thing you're going to do on Mars?”

“I'm going to Disney..no, wait,” the reporters chuckled on cue.

A red light started flashing on a panel behind the astronaut. “Is that important? Is something wrong?” a reporter pointed to the screen.

“I’m sure it’s just a proximity sensor, reminding me how close we are!” Captain Marianne Axelson still held a pasted-on smile. “But, that’s my cue. Got a ship to land!” She turned away then and disappeared, leaving the camera to watch the blinking light. "Rev! Chase! begin final approach!"” the officer and engineer chimed in their understanding.

“Navigation ready for landing,” Chase Cabot called. He was easily a foot taller than Marianne but skinny as a rail.

“Life systems stable, let’s get this bird down.” Raymond “Rev” Eversley was the polar opposite- short, stocky, but imposing as a brick wall.

“Sir, that’s” Missy began, but was cut off by Reynolds.

“A proximity sensor, we all heard the captain.” Reynolds’ words were clipped. Then he spun to the cameras one more time: “Well folks, it’s about to get science-y in here; i’m afraid i have to ask you to wait in the press lounge while we get down to brass tacks. Interns, if you’d show them out..” He motioned to a pair of college students huddled in a corner. They promptly stood up and shooed the reporters away. The video feed clicked off and the large screen filled back in with all manner of data streams.

“Sir, that trouble on the console,” Missy started again.

“Is the goddamn o2 sensor, i know!” Reynolds snapped. “I didn’t start here yesterday. Dammit!” He slammed a hand down on the desk next to Missy. “OK Folks, listen up! We are about to land this capsule and deploy the Mars hab, and we do not get another pass. The team in the air knows the situation. The best thing you can do, right now, is your job. Focus, dial in, and get it right. If you miss, if you’re wrong, if you hesitate,” He growled the last word with disgust, “People die. Simple as that! Now, start landing approach sequence on my mark.  And.. MARK.”

A flurry of keys clicked and clacked and the screen popped to life, moving and changing as various people added information. Soon the wall was covered in meter readings and status lights.

“Ops, Sitrep!” The captain barked for a situation report from his officer in charge of operations.

“Sensors show we will be in position for initial drop in twenty minutes. Fuel charge is full, life support reserves are minimal.” Missy replied.

“How long do we have once we land?”

“Assuming a perfect impact, we’ll have about an hour to get the hab deployed before they will be on suit reserve only. With the work they’ll be doing to situate the doors and get inside, factoring for increased respiration..” Missy tapped her screen, then her keyboard. She looked up at Reynolds. “It’s going to be close, sir. It could literally come down to a breath or two.”
He stared back. She almost looked away, but then she realized he was deep in thought. “Sir?” she dared to inquire.

“We need to hurry up the landing.” He turned back to the room and snapped, “Eyes up, people! I need ideas! Missy, capsule on the screen.” A 3D rendering of the mars lander appeared on the video wall. “You all know this ship, inside and out. we always intended to put it down gently, secure it, and then launch the hab unit, here,” he gestured toward a large hatch on the right side of the ship. “It's designed to eject sideways and inflate with a series of small explosions, which will also heat up the internal systems and start the life support running. Then the crew needs to step outside, secure the outer airlock, and make their way into their new home. This all takes about two hours. I need it in the next 45 minutes. I'm taking suggestions.”

For a long beat, the room was quiet. Even the pen-flicking and keyboard clacking inevitable in a room of engineers dialed back to a quiet hum. Someone cleared their throat.

“Mr. Moebus?” Reynolds asked. “You have something to share?”

“Yes sir. We are using standard downfiring shaped charges to expel the hab unit. Do we have individual control?” Erick Moebus, design engineer, called from the back row.

“We do,” another voice called.

“Can i have the screen?” Moebus asked. When his computer showed on the video wall he continued, “Thanks. If we brought the lander in close, hatch down, and fired the charges in a sequence like this..” he drew a half-circle from bottom to top on the side of the lander model, “You would get the rotation you need. The hab would expel and inflate, and if you did it just right the gravity would finish bringing the lander in as it rotated away. It’d be a hard landing but..” he trailed off.

“What’s our margin of error? Missy, run it!”

“Already loading, sir.” missy pounded furiously at her console, then stopped abruptly. “Based on my simulations, our window for first firing is..” she looked up. “Two seconds.”

Reynolds scanned the room. “Anyone here play a lot of video games growing up? Unless we come up with something better in the next” he looked up at the clock, “eleven minutes, this is the plan.” He called out assignments, and Moebus answered with a timing sequence.

It was time. The ship’s captain reappeared on a side screen, this time focused on instruments and not really acknowledging her audience. “Three second burn on my mark. Mark!” A roar like white noise blared through the room for exactly three seconds, then stopped.

“Captain,” Reynolds cut in, “ we are going to do things differently. You've been sent a memo with the outline but there's no time to explain. We will take controls from here. Hang on, it might get bumpy.”

“This is madness!” The captain growled.

Chase jumped in with “You'll never get it accu” the picture appeared to keep talking but the sound cut out.

“I don't need that kind of negativity. Moebus, are we ready?”

“Ready sir. Firing sequence queued. Charges armed and hatch equalized.”

“And our firing window?”

“Coming up quickly, sir.”

“Well, shut up and watch for it!”

All was deadly silent for the final minute. Moebus stood, his finger on a single key. “Three, Two, One, Mark.” He pressed the key with his last word. If it had been quiet before, one could hear a pin drop as they waited for the commands to be received by the lander.

They saw that the signal had been received when Rev started very clearly enunciating some choice words. That would be the lander going into a spin only feet from the ground. Suddenly the camera shook violently, then floated free in the cabin. They could see the series of explosions only as shifts in the camera’s relative position in space. All three crew slammed against their restraints at every detonation. At what should have been the next-to-last blast, the camera hit the floor of the cabin and went black.

Reynolds spun on Moebus. “Did it work?”

Moebus pounded furiously on his keyboard. All eyes in the room locked on as he continued squinting. Then, the screen lit up red. Every sensor, every reading, showed “Failure” and alarms beeped and buzzed all over the room.

“What the hell is going on? Ops! Sitrep! NOW!” Reynolds roared over the cacophony.

“We’ve lost comms, sir. All of them. No radio, no video, no data stream. Diagnostics running but everything looks ok on our end.”

“So we hosed it up. Good. perfect! DAMMIT!”

“Not quite, sir,” Moebus interjected. He tapped a few buttons, and of the alarm sounds subisded, though the screen still glowed red. “We don’t know yet what happened. Our window for perfect launch was quite small, but there was a second chance where we pretty much crash the lander sideways but the hab still deploys. In that scenario, we tear the antennas off the lander and lose communication until the generators are powering comms in the hab.”
“Chance of our people making to the hab from a smashed vehicle?”

“Assuming they survive the landing… One in..” he tapped at a calculator, “427.”

“Fuck. they’re as good as dead.”

“We’ll know in about two hours, sir.”

---TWO HOURS LATER---

Reynolds drained the his coffee for the fifth time since the camera crews had left. Across the top of the main display, a countdown clock went to zero. “All right, that’s it folks. One more try to raise the hab. Win, lose, or draw, you’re a great crew, and you can walk out of here knowing you did the very best anyone could have. Under the circumstances” he was cut off by a collective gasp from the rest of the room. He spun to the screen, where multiple video feeds of the hab were now showing, with “Live” flashing in the lower-left corner of each.

“Patching through now,” Missy cut off the general before he could ask. “Hab one, this is Houston, do you copy?” static hissed through the overhead speakers. “Hab one, this is Houston, do you copy?” still no response.

“Where the hell are they? Any signs of life?”

“There are signs of disturbance in the food and supply areas, but no one is currently detected and no equipment has been removed from the airlock.”
“What does that mean? Did they make it or not?” The stress was starting to make Reynolds shake. The coffee probably wasn’t helping.

“They…” Missy paused for half a moment. “Did not. We don’t have any link to the lander, but we know it's dead on arrival. And here there’s nothing missing, nothing added. The air filter shows some activity, and as i noted some supplies were knocked loose, most likely on that nontraditional deployment. But no one is inside, and no one could be outside even as long as we’ve been connected without those suits.”

CLANK! Everyone gasped at the loud sound over the speakers. A quick scan revealed more cans being knocked off a shelf in the kitchen area.

“Activity on camera 3!” Missy brought up the feed of the still-shaking supplies. “Just some, eh, settling as the hab finishes inflating,” her quavering voice belied the confidence of her words.

A long moment passed. Everyone stared at camera 3’s feed, willing it to show some sign of life. But there was none.

“Well, no use standing around here. Night crew, your watch. Everyone else, debriefing at 0800 hours. Get some sleep, you're gonna need it.” With that, Reynolds spun on his heel and marched from the room.

--

In the parking lot outside Johnson Space Center, Missy pressed the button to unlock her dusty, green Camry. it was only a few years younger than she was, but the damn thing refused to die. She paused at the door to shuffle her purse, and Erick took the opportunity.

“I think I need a beer after that. Care to join me?”

she sighed and turned around. “Hey Erick. Hell of a day, huh?” she pushed her brown hair behind her ears. “I’m just glad I don’t have to call the families.”

“I definitely don’t envy that part of the commander’s job.”

“Some of the other parts, you do envy, though?”

Moebus kicked at the dirt. “I dunno. Some days I think it’d be nice to get a shot at my own mission, but then..” he looked over his shoulder at the building they had just exited. “I just don’t know. Let’s get that beer and figure it out, huh?”

Missy blew out slowly. “Not tonight, Erick. I just wanna go home, watch a crappy movie and fall asleep on my couch.”

“Ok. I thought a little shot of adrenaline might do you some good, but..”

She turned, raised an eyebrow. “You got it? I thought you were going to tell them you weren't on the crew!”

“I was going to do that, but…” he grinned “when someone offers you a ‘vette, you take it!” with that, he extended a hand and clicked a button. A few rows over, a cherry-red Corvette growled to life. Supposedly a gift to commanders and the actual crew, Moebus’ name somehow made it on the list, and he wasn’t about to correct that particular mistake. At least, not until he got to put the car through its paces. It settled to an expectant burble as Erick raised an eyebrow.

Missy tried not to smile, but mostly failed. “just a quick ride…”

“Oh I can guarantee it'll be quick!”

She laughed and followed him, settling into the passenger’s white leather bucket seat. “Hang on to something,” he grinned as he edged past the guard shack.

THREE YEARS LATER

BZZT! BZZT! BZZT!

Missy reached out to her bedside table, her flailing attempts failing to hit the snooze, and groaned. “Why do these things always start at 6 frickin AM?”

Moebus rolled over against her back, reached across and tapped her phone. “You can’t schedule the stars, babe.”

She moved onto her back and smiled at him. “Big day today, huh?”
He grunted back. “Here’s hoping this one goes better than the last time we did this.”

“It will! They have you now!” he looked unconvinced. “Seriously you’ve spend the last three years going over every possible scenario, every possible variable. I mean, god, you ran a simulation in case they encountered extraterrestrials mid-trip!”

He finally smiled at that. “Using Transformers was a nice touch.”

“I though you’d like that. Now, go get in the shower! You’ve got a lot to do!”

**

“I'm sure it's eerie for some of you, being back in this position.” Newly promoted Captain Moebus stood at the front of the same control room he’d been in during the crash. Some of the tech had been updated but the general layout was the same. Three rows of semicircle desks still faced toward the floor-to-ceiling screen wall. All eyes were focused on the 40-year-old man addressing them. “It’s been tough for me, leading the team to this point. You have all been excellent, and have proved at every step why you are here. After the last attempt..” he stopped, choked slightly and had to clear his throat to continue, “After our last mission ended in tragedy, the powers that be decided not to waste a perfectly good hab unit, and so scrambled this mission into existence. Now here we are, three years to the day, ready to try again. We’ve improved the lander, and chosen a site clear of any possibly debris. I imagine it will be tough to be up there, to see exactly what happened, so we need to be ready to help them focus on getting to the hab. Final approach is in one hour, so lets make sure they get to the ground the right way this time, shall we?” a murmur of assent went through the room. “Good! Ops, Sitrep!”

A familiar voice perked up from the front row. “All on schedule, Captain.” Missy smiled on that last word. “O2 levels good for at least 12 more hours in the lander. Fuel reserves for two attempts. All comms online and solid. The hab is fully online and ready to support life. Most video is offfline there but should be repairable within a few days.”

“Thanks, Missy. Ok, folks, from here on out we go live. Everything you say will be broadcast into space for any other intelligent life to hear. Screen?” at that, the screen split in half, with the left side covered in small gauges and the right going to a live feed out the “windshield” of the lander. “Hello, captain!”

“Good evening, Houston!” the baritone voice of Captain Leon Waltham broadcast over the room. Leon, along with Cassandra Smith and Roger Huang made up the crew of the Devos X. Cass and Roger were off camera, monitoring their specialties while their Captain grabbed the controls, and the glory. “Are we ready to do this, Mr. Moebus?”

“We’re ready here! And you should be almost ready to move into landing.”

“Right. Ok, coming into position now.. five second burn on my mark. 3...2..1…. mark!”

A loud hisss burst over the speakers and the image on screen shook for exactly five seconds. When it all cleared up, Mars was visible on the horizon and closing fast. “Ok, cap, it's all you driving us in!” Erick called out. “Do you see the site?”

“I see it. Two second burn adjusting approach in 3, 2, 1, mark!” Again the hissing erupted. “Ok, looks like we're dead on. I'm gonna try and let it ride until the final approach.”

“Well, you're driving.” Moebus smiled. This was already going better. That had been his error last time; he hadn't accounted for the signal delay between earth and the mars orbit. That few milliseconds had been the difference between life and death for the last crew, and he wouldn't let that happen again.

“Houston, are you seeing this?” Leon’s voice rang out. “Looks like someone made it into a suit, at least..” his voice cracked before he continued, “wait, no.. what?”

The top of an astronaut helmet drifted into the bottom of the camera view, black-streaked white fabric against the gold sun visor. “Why is that so dirty, if it's been hanging around..” his voice caught, his eyes locked on the helmet. “Dammit Erick, what did you get me into?”

The suit’s glove raised overhead and started smashing a rock into the window. When that didn't work, it crawled up and over and disappeared over the top of the ship. “Uh, Houston? This isn't in the manual.. a little help? Are we into evasive maneuvers or are we continuing to land? Houston? Erick?”

Erick stared at the screen. It was.. he couldn't comprehend. A variable he had failed to account for, a.. what WAS it, exactly? Not any of the people from the last mission. That was sure. A Martian in a borrowed suit? But why?

“Fuck, Erick, gimme something! It's trying to work the hatch!!”

“Evasive action! Barrel Roll!” Someone shouted. Leon took it and started spinning the capsule wildly. The hatch still rattled.

“Ok ok, fire flares and bring it in! You're running a little hot but you have enough fuel for a long burn.” Erick called out over the noise. “Mark!” The image stabilized but continued rocketing toward the surface. “Do it, cap! Burn now!” Nothing. Leon had frozen at the controls.

“LEON!!” Missy’s screech did the trick. Leon grabbed a lever and jammed it forward, causing the lander to spontaneously slow. The space suit, and whatever creature was driving it, launched off the roof and went spiraling toward the ground.

“Fuel level is now critical.” Missy read out. “Commence freefall. You're in the pull now, you're just going to have to hit the gas as you get close.”

“You're going to have to eyeball it,” Erick said immediately. “Go!”

The engines stopped burning. A few short bursts from the attitude adjusters leveled the horizon, and the lander started falling out of the sky toward mars. Leon’s forehead shone with sweat as he stared, intently, at his instruments, flickering his gaze out the window every few seconds. “Ok, this is it. And, mark!” Leon growled as he hammered the throttle one last time. A deafening roar blocked all other sound, even in the control room. Erick could only start helplessly as the crew in the lander braced for impact. The last few seconds lasted a year as the lander came down, down, CRUNCH. Miraculously it didn't bounce; it just slammed into the red dirt and stopped with about 6 inches of standards below the surface. The engines sputtered, a few last coughs as the fuel ran completely dry. Whatever happened next, there would be no return trip.

Cassandra, the first mate, came into view. “Well, that was less than pleasant,” she said. “Why can't we just land a damn ship, one time, on this godforsaken”

That was all she got out. The space suit had returned. With its previous hits, plus the impact of the landing, it was able to rip the hatch open and drop inside. The exposure to the Martian atmosphere would have killed them in minutes, but that wasn't enough for this creature. It grabbed Cassandra and threw her against a control panel hard enough for a control lever to pierce her rib cage. Blood dribbled from her mouth as she hung, crucified.

“No!” Erick screamed, watching helplessly from a million miles away. “No, dammit!” It heard him, and turned to the camera. It walked over, pulled the camera out of the wall mount.

“Say goodbye, Erick.” A thin, scratchy voice, like someone that had smoked a carton a day for a lifetime. But high and squealing.. Erick paused. It was impossible, but he knew that voice..

“This is how the adventure ends.” Leon just stared morosely. “But hey, we found life,” he motioned to the suit, “not sure I'd call it intelligent..” with that, two hands of dark, slimy skin slid into view, grabbed Leon’s head, and snapped his neck in a single swift motion.

“You left us, Reynolds,” the screeching continued, “cut off all comms. Video was useless. I tried to leave messages, to ask for help. But you just wanted the glory of a new mission. Congratulations, captain. This is your legacy.” Leon's body slumped away, still strapped to his seat. The hands reached up and grabbed the visor. As it slid up, Erick stepped back, back into the wall, and slid down.

“No, it.. I can't. That doesn't make sense!”

There was no one in the suit.

CHAPTER BREAK

“Break the link!” Erick called out. “Now!” The video Wall went dark. There was a moment, a year pressed into seconds, where all was still. The keyboards stopped clicking. No one dared sneeze. “sitrep. What do we know?”

“Erick, i mean sir, with all due respect,” Missy began, but the commander jumped in.

“No! We can't do this now. We will analyze the video and get answers. I'm asking what do we KNOW about what just happened?” He sighed heavily. “Ryker. life systems.”

“uh, uh.. offline. none in use when connection was lost.”

“That's something we know. no one was breathing our air when we cut the link. Leon wasn’t making any noise, but we can't assume he was already dead. What else?”

“Cassandra was definitely dead,” one sharp observer in the back called out. “no one would have survive-"

“Ok, genius, maybe not EVERYTHING,” Moebus glared at the speaker. “so, we know about Leon and Cassandra. What else?”

“uh, Erick?” Missy dropped the formality altogether now. “where’s Roger?”

he spun to the video wall, still framed in red warnings from the last readings they had gotten from Mars.

“Shit. Where the fuck is Roger?”

Roger was pulling a page from the comics he had read as a kid, hiding under a floor panel when the banging on the hatch began. A loud click told him the oxygen tank he was spooning had been shut off and the atmosphere would start getting thin. Assuming whatever killed Leon was breathing it too, he probably only had a few minutes of air. The compartment wasn't meant to be occupied; if he hadn't been 5’4 and slim, he would have never made it next to the large white cylinder and various piping for the life systems. he tried to reach around to find a manual release valve. Squeak! every time his fingers got close, a loud scraping sound threatened to give him away.

“did did you hear that?” the scratchy voice hissed from above, inside the cabin.

“HAarrghhh" something gurgled back.

“Yes, but there should be a third. You and I and Ray all made the sacrifice,” it rasped the last few words, as though it had laryngitis. “Harg hurr maveshuvin!” it was the same voice, but in the angry noise-language of the second creature.

BANG! it punched a wall. Roger risked a glance at his watch. Assuming the scary growling monsters hadn't bothered to fix the hull breach, he had about one minute of air. He slithered an arm to his side, fumbling blindly for his front pants pocket. There! Carefully working with two fingers since his leg was tightly pressed to the air tank, he worked out his standard issue multifunction pocket knife. He slid his hand up to his face and loosened the blade with his teeth. Hopefully he could make a small nick in the hose upstream of the valve. That should buy him an hour or so, long enough that the monsters should lose interest and move on. After that it was gamble, but at least it was the start of a plan..

BLAM! The floor panel above him was ripped up, and one of the monsters was hulking over him, breathing hard from the effort. “Heyyyyy Roogggsharmen!!!!” it crowed victoriously as it shook the floor panel overhead. It was wearing the orange jumpsuit found under the launch gear of a US astronaut, but this was clearly something else. Its skin was black with a slight green tinge, and its muscles were bulged in random places--huge hulking biceps attached to arms that seemed ready to detach at the shoulder. The whole thing had a glistening coat of slime, like it had been out in the sun and started to melt. Still, the eyes held an intelligence, even a familiarity that stayed Roger from trying to slit its throat. That, and the fact that there was still another one out there somewhere, hopefully not right behind it. The creature started to reach down to grab Roger’s throat.

“Here goes nothing.. Roger crossed himself, flicked the knife open, and jammed it through the oxygen line to the hilt. The pressure in the line launched it like a toothpick in a railgun, and the handle hit the monster squarely between the eyes. It stumbled back and drunkenly flailed at its face. Roger took the opening, sending up a quick prayer that the main hatch hadn’t been damaged. He ran the few steps toward, and then past, the green creature when his eyes caught the nametag on the jumpsuit: Capt. Arneson. He shuddered to think how this thing had gotten ahold of these clothes as he ran on and smashed his shoulder into the emergency release lever. It swung freely outward and the Mars atmosphere rushed in.

He would have to dash for it. Mars had just enough atmosphere to keep him from frying for about a minute. Roger grabbed one more lungful of oxygen from the ship and jumped down about a meter to the surface. It would have been over three meters, but their hard landing had worked in his favor. He sprinted for the white billowy hab 20 meters away. So far, nothing was growling behind him. He reached the airlock, fiddled with the lock for a few seconds, and slammed himself inside. Miraculously, the decompression system still worked and he was inside with breathable air. He dared to peek out the window, and saw the monster aboard the ship walk to the hatch.. And swing the door closed.

CLANK! A noise from the food prep area startled him back to the present. He walked over toward the spilled cans rolling from the storage closet. Apparently it wasn’t just “the Hab settling”, then. Something had been waiting for them. He just had to get the comms back online and stay inside until an extraction could be scrambled for him. Surely NASA would come armed to the teeth, ready to ward off.. What WERE they, exactly? Not anything he had expected of Martians, but definitely not human. Roger shook his head. It was all too much. He looked around for something to barricade a door as he walked toward the sleeping pods.

“Hello, Roger.” The high, scratchy voice stopped him in his tracks. “It’s me. Marianne.”

Roger turned, slowly, not wanting to see what was there. He had never hoped so strongly that ghosts were real, but alas. His eyes made contact with the thing--a hulking, greenish-black creature stared at him. A foot taller than him, with bulging muscles straining its it's dark skin, yet he could see the outline of bones in many places. It wore nothing; apparently this one hadn't found clothes big enough for its frame.

He looked up into its face. he could almost believe it had been human, once. It looked as though someone had taken a skull and smashed it until it elongated, with a rounded bulb out the back. The skin was stretched to breaking here, and bright white eyeballs floated in sockets with no lids. those eyes fixed him as it spoke again, “did you hear me?”

“I heard you, I'm just trying to place who you're telling me you are.”

“Captain Axelson, Devos IX.”

“Riight, and I’m Archduke Franz Ferdinand of Austria. Who are you really, and what do you want?”

The creature started to speak, but hacked and coughed instead, holding up a single finger indicating Roger would have to wait. “HARRGH, HARUOO!” It howled, gagged once more, then continued. “this language no longer suits me. But I am, or I was, Captain. You are Roger Huang, Communication Specialist of the Devos X. And you are going to get me off this rock.” It broke into coughs again.

***

“We gotta find Huang! Why isn't that link back up?!” Moebus was fairly screaming now, waving his fist at the front row of engineers furiously working on their computers. “Give me something!”
“Erick!” Missy stood up, walked down the two steps and back up one to where Moebus stood. “Get yourself together. We’re doing what we can but it’s just going to take a few minute. And this” she mimed waving her fist as he had, “Is not helping! Now,” she reached up on her toes and snuck a peck, right next to his ear, “Chill!”

She walked back to her post at the end of the first row, put on her earpiece, and went to work. “Comms, where are we at?”

“The emergency shutoff protocol involves pulling some wires. It’ll take time for that to get sorted and everything to reboot. Probably 20 before we can reach out, and then it just depends on what’s on the other side.”

“Noted. Thanks Jimmy. Life Systems? Was Huang’s suit serviceable?”

“As far as we know. It wasn’t in use at the time of disconnect but it wasn’t reporting damage.”

“Great! Thanks Dmitry. Anyone else got anything for me?”

“Did you finish running the sims on radiation exposure?” Someone said over the radio.

“I did not, Alex, why?”
“I’m sending some data. You might wanna look at it.”

“What’s the latest, Ops?” Erick called.

“It’s, uh..” Missy stared at her screen. “I really hope this is wrong.”

“Don’t tell me the comm link is broken..”
“It’s not that it’s… Comm links back on! Data to the screen!”

Erick spun around as the curved wall lit up. sensors connected to the Hab started reporting as the data made its its way across the galaxy.

Missy started calling out the various data streams as the screen flickered from red to white. “O2, online! Water reservoir, online! Air filtration, on line!” she ticked through a dozen sensors, then started in again as the connections yielded useful data. “O2 level breathable. Water recycling system, operational. Radiation level.. good in the quarters but questionable in the food prep.”

Moebus interrupted. “Any sign of life? Any signal from any of the suits?”

“There is..” she stared at the screen and touched her earpiece “Nothing in either lander. In the hab we have.. Two? Are you sure?” She looked over her shoulder, two stations back to the last row. The man there nodded slowly. “In the Hab, there are two heat signatures.”

Moebus steepled his fingers and sighed. “Let’s get video and see what they are, shall we?”

***

Those two lifeforms were staring at each other, one with seething anger, the other with unbridled confusion. “Get you off this rock?” Huang yelled. “I don’t know if you remember this but YOU CRASHED MY SHIP!” He motioned at a nearby wall in what he guessed was the direction of the wreckage. “No one is getting out of here, so if you're going to kill me or eat me or whatever, just get it over with.”

“Eat you? how barbaric,” the thing called Axelson hissed. “No. We need a way back. I have a score to settle with Reynolds and Moebus.” It leaned across the countertop. The food area had been designed to look like a sleek, modern kitchen, albeit made entirely from plastics to save weight.

“Well, Reynolds retired after the Devos IX incident, so good luck getting to him.”

“Incident? Is that what they call it? Five humans turned to THIS” it motioned to itself with both hands “is a mere ‘incident’? HARG, GARAAAGGGHH!!!” It coughed again, choked up by its own anger.

“Turned to?” Roger repeated. “You mean, you really are..?” he trailed off, unable to finish the sentence.

“YES!!” Axelson roared. “I AM MARIANNE AXELSON!” It, now confirmed to be she, hacked and horked for a good twenty seconds before being able to continue. “That is just one of the problems with this form. We have our own language, but i’ve held onto yours for just this moment.” She started pacing now, circling in front of the kitchen island. “Moebus won’t let it go. You’ll make contact and they will send a rescue, probably unmanned. You’ll request enough room for some ‘samples’, a few hundred pounds worth that you’ve collected. HARHK! And we’ll all ride home for a family reunion.” Axelson reached out a long, bony finger to stroke Roger’s chin. “And you won’t tell them about us. Unless of course you would like to know what the transition is like?”

He shuddered and pulled away. Then a buzzing sounded on the intercom, and Missy Jennison’s disembodied voice came through. “Captain Huang? If you can hear me, stay out of the food prep area. We are detecting elevated levels of radiation at this time. Until the source is determined, stay in your quarters. Video link will be coming online soon.”

Huang and Axelson looked at each other. He shrugged. “Guess you’d better hide somewhere, then.”

***

“Who was he talking to?” Erick asked no one in particular. “And why did he tell them to hide?”

“Video will be online as soon as possible. Many of the cameras are no longer reporting, probably due to SOMEbody giving the Hab a hard landing,” Missy smirked around her headset’s mic arm.

“At least i tried something!” He retorted before looking around. 24 pairs of eyes were locked on him. He cleared his throat. “Alright, i want everyone on this video issue. Let’s get some kind of feed going in one hour. Got it?” He swept the room. Everyone looked back at their computers and started clicking away. “Good. Now I have to go explain what happened here; when I get back I expect to see you having a conference call with Captain Huang!” With that, he spun on a heel, stepped off the dais, and stalked out of the room.

***

“Another mission? You must be mad!” Major Perkins spit a little when he yelled, and it took every ounce of self-control in Erick not to duck. “We’ve wasted untold millions, and six human lives already!”

“Five, sir.”

“What’s that, Moebus?”

“Five human lives. We have data indicating that as of this afternoon, Roger Huang was still alive. We would like to send a mission to extract..”

“Absolutely not. Whatever is happening, we need time to develop defenses. I’m not sending more Americans to their deaths.”

“An unmanned mission, sir. Fully automated. The capsule flies out, lands itself. Roger gets a suit from the hab, runs a fuel line from the generator. Once it’s ready, he crawls in the capsule and blasts home. Worst case we’re out about $30 million for the rocket and the fuel. That’s a rounding error for the Pentagon. And everyone already thinks Roger is dead--we pretend it’s a satellite launch and no one knows the difference.”

Perkins chewed his lip for a moment. “I’m not keen to keep trying this.”

“Think of it like an exit strategy.” Erick shifted gears, appealing to the military mind. “We’ve left something valuable behind enemy lines and we need to make sure it gets back. And who knows, maybe we pull back some valuable rock samples in the deal.”

“Do it. Get him home.” Perkins turned his chair and waved dismissively.

“Thank you sir. We’ll do our best.”

***

“Captain Huang, this is Houston. Come in Hab 1.” An unfamiliar voice rang out around the habitat. In order to ease the transition to life on Mars, the interior had been printed on fabrics and plastics to look like a modern open-concept home, with a large kitchen/tool storage area and three bedrooms off one end. But for the occcasional ripple where there shouldn’t be one, the effect was reasonable enough.

“This is” he stopped to yawn loudly “Huang, go ahead Houston.”

“Hello. Sorry for the late hour.”

“It’s ok, I was up. He shifted on his barstool, leaned over the kitchen island and glared at Marianne. She shrugged in response. “What do you need?”

“Just wanted to share the good news. You’re coming home!”

Marianne perked up at that. “HURGGH!” She cheered.

“Are you all right?” The voice from Houston asked.

Marianne and Roger exchanged nervous glances before he responded. “Sorry. still clearing out some of the dust from my run over here. I'm fine. So, you're sending another crew? Are you sure thats a good idea?”

“No crew. It will be a fully unmanned mission, on the way there. you'll grab a suit, hop in, and we will bring you home. Sound good?”

Marianne fixed Roger with a death stare. “uhh, yeah, sounds great! when do I leave?”

Well, that's the bad part. between building a ship and the time it takes to get there, we are shooting for nine months. Until then you have plenty of supplies and experiments to start.”

“uh, ok. and there will be room to bring experiments back?”

“what do you mean?”

“Well, I'm at least going to take a lap around the Hab and grab some samples.” Roger looked at the creature across from him. She smiled and gave him something resembling a thumbs-up, although her 3-inch claws dulled the positive effect. “I’d say, what,” he looked again and Marianne’s hand was spread apart, showing a 5. “Five hundred pounds or so? I'm going to be here for nine months, after all..”

There was a pause, then, “We will see what we can do. First priority is you, though. remember that. Get some sleep. Houston over and out.”

A single tone announced that the connection had been severed.

Roger grunted. “Get some sleep. On a foreign planet covered with freakin monsters.” He looked up at Marianne. “No offense, of course. I’m just afraid you’ll murder me in my sleep.”

“ORC! HORG! URRRGGGHH!!!” She coughed, hacked, and finally squeaked, “I still need you.  We ‘monsters’ will see you tomorrow.”

***

SIX MONTHS LATER

Roger and the monsters had developed an uneasy peace by mostly avoiding each other. As far as he could tell, they only slept about an hour or two a day. The rest of the time they clunked about the Hab, or worse, they went outside where he couldn’t always keep track.

“You can come out, you know,” she wheezed for the thousandth time. “We won’t hurt you, we still need you alive,” she managed to finish before breaking into her signature wet cough.

“Could you not? That’s getting old but still really disgusting. And ‘I can’t kill you YET’ isn’t the most reassuring thing, you know?”

“Suit yourself.” The squeaky hiss of her voice still grated on Roger’s nerves, so he tried not to engage. That and the risk of flying phlegm was enough to keep him behind closed doors. He stayed in his quarters as much as possible, coming out only to eat, use the head, and call Houston about once a day. “No change, experiments going as prescribed,” was his daily lie; He had broken or tossed out any unnecessary equipment in the first week to keep it out of the creatures’ hands. He still thought of them as “creatures”, even though Marianne had proven to have the memories and most of the personality of her namesake. This was Mars; he had survived a crash intentionally caused by aliens. Anything was probable at this point.

Marianne walked back to the open part of the Hab. Two other lounged in the living room, and two sat at barstools at the kitchen island. “HAROO?” she growled to one of the kitchen dwellers. “HaRGy,”she motioned toward the couch,  “HOK HOREE LEAN Drumf?” MMph?”

One of the monsters at the island shrugged. “OroRo.. Oorr UHT Emeckk" it made a motion like wringing out a towel, “Burk Urm Ackk! URR OO!” It pointed first to one on the couch occupants, then the other as it spoke.

“Igd Oo Eeeiit?”

Both creatures at the island shook their heads. The two in the living area didn't seem to be hearing any of the conversation. “Uht Eeert Ubbut Deew?”

Marianne put her claws on the table and leaned in. “Kill them. Again.” she wheezed. “And make sure Leon stays dead!”

***

“Six months on the job and you’ve already got a second mission. Good job, babe!” Missy ducked into the passenger side of the Vette.

Erick grunted and leaned on the car. “Not quite the way I wanted to get it.”

“But you get to test the unmanned recovery unit! It’s groundbreaking stuff!”

He looked down through the open sunroof and frowned. “I appreciate what you’re trying to do. I really do, but right now I’m just worried about Roger getting home.”

“Well, fine. I tried.” She pouted playfully, but then cracked a small grin. “You’re a good person, you know that?” He had finally settled into his seat, and she reached over for a peck on the cheek. “Let’s go home.”

He fired up the car. “Yep. Let’s all get home.”

***

Daniel watched Marianne as she walked to the airlock and outside. He looked at Rev, and they dove in perfect sync. They blended into the shadows as they ran in a blur toward the couch.

“Hurg, WHAI OON?!” The creature that had been Cassie screeched. Daniel slashed across her chest with his 3-inch talons, drawing blood that looked almost black. Leon dove across the couch to intercede, but Rev was there. He had been well-built on the way here, and now was a monster in more ways than one. He easily yanked Leon from the couch and chucked him 20 feet across the Hab, where he bounced off the fabric wall. Rev turned back to Cassandra, who was scratching at Daniel’s face. Shreds of black flesh were flying around the room and it was hard to say who was having a worse time of it.

Leon stood, spread his arms in an attack pose, and let fly a bloodcurdling battle scream. “Cheeaaaassaaaarrrrg!” he bellowed as he charged, gallop-style, back to the couch. Leon jumped onto Daniels back and started smashing. He alternated punching and ripping out chunks of back until Daniel finally dropped his hands and fell to his knees. Leon kicked Daniel’s jaw hard enough to spin his head 180 degrees, and Daniel fell, unconscious.

On the couch, Rev was trying to mount Cassie, who he easily kept pinned. A hiss, then “Let's see what these new bodies can DO, huh HORK AWK AAAGG!” He devolved to hacks and coughs, showering Cassie in sputum. he reached for her breast, but never made it. Leon’s claw raked inside Daniel’s forearm, shredding the carpal muscles and opening the suicide vein. Daniel screeched and grabbed at his arm, managing to scratch himself deeper in the process. Cassie wasted no time; She grabbed Daniel by the shoulders and head butted him as hard as she could. His nose disappeared into his face, and he fell backward to the floor. Leon stood then, gave Cassie the once over an a “OOO Ohrk?” He reached to give her a hand, but then the hand disappeared. Thick, dark blood oozed rather than spurted from the stump as he turned. Rev was back up, somehow, and holding a large knife from the kitchen. Leon cocked his intact arm, ready to deliver an almighty punch,

“RRAARTGGG!” Rev screamed, dove, buried the knife to the hilt, severing Leon’s esophagus. Leon’s arm fell to his side; his body crashed on his knees, and he slumped to the side. Cassie pommeled off the couch and landed a hard kick to Rev’s face. He stumbled, stunned, and Cassie took the chance to gallop to the door and out onto the surface of Mars.

A slow clap sounded from the sleeping quarters hallway. “Took you long enough,” Marianne hissed. She pointed at Leon’s slumped form. “Get him out of here. And make sure he stays dead!”

Rev looked from her to Leon, quizzically. She just kept pointing, so he shrugged and grabbed the lifeless body by the armpits, dragging him to the airlock.

“aw, shit.” Buoyed by the sudden silence, Roger had emerged from his quarters and saw the scene, the couch destroyed and the walls covered in black ooze. He turned to Marianne, “you're gonna clean this up, right?”

“And why would I HRK! Do that?” Her voice had gotten more controlled with use, almost sounding human when she wanted it to.

“There’s a video call with Houston in a few hours. You and your boys can duck outside, but how am i suposed to explain this?”

“you'll figure it out.” She wheezed once, then walked for the airlock.

“Dont forget, you still need me. I'm as good as dead either way. Oh don't give me that look, I'm not stupid. I'm just assuming at this point you'll kill me in transit. No one will know any different. The only way to get on this crew was to be single, no living relatives, that kind of thing. Expendable, if the shit hit the fan. They are only coming for me because it would look good; doubtless they have already announced the ship was “lost” and the recovery ship is a satellite launch or something.” Marianne just started at him, taken aback by his candor. “What? With your goon squad here, I have a lot of time to myself. I finally decided, fuck it, if I can’t make it, at least you guys can make your mark.” he shrugged, stretched, yawned. “see you in the morning. Clean this up if you want your revenge, or whatever.” Roger walked back to his quarters and slid the door shut behind him.

**

“3...2...1.. liftoff. we have liftoff. Passing control to Houston on my mark…Mark. Houston she's all yours now.”

Erick stared at the big screen, for now showing live footage of a huge rocket-the largest unmanned vehicle launch from a US facility- breaking through the atmosphere on it's way to Mars.

“Welcome back!” He addressed the room without

breaking his gaze from the screen. “At least some of you are wondering what we are doing here for an unmanned mission. To that end, has everyone signed the NDA?” The NASA non-disclosure agreements were particularly draconian in their terms. Anyone caught in violation would do well to live in a shoebox and work at McDonalds--those that lived at all.

Of 25 people in the room, all but a  single hand shot up. A young man with rounded glasses looked around nervously, realizing his mistake too late. “Security!” Moebus barked. Two tall men in gray uniforms moved behind the offender, pulled him from his seat by the underarms, and escorted him out. “Thanks guys,” Erick called after them. “anyone else?”. no one moved. “Good. So, as many of you probably suspect, this was not a satellite launch. We are not here to ‘guide it into precision orbit’ as your contracts state.

“The second mission to Mars was declared a failure. The ship crashed and all aboard in the crash. Any future exploration was put on hold pending a full investigation. That sound familiar?”

He looked around the room. 24 heads bobbed in silent agreement. “well it’s bullshit. partially, anyway. the last lander DID crash into the surface and was destroyed. However, siince then we have maintained contact with a sole survivor, Captain Roger Huang.” a murmur went through the room.

“Captain Huang made it to the Hab, which has remained fully functional thus far. As it was originally stocked for a three-person crew, his needs have been well attended, though certainly he will be lonely and bored after this many months of isolation. Video calls and radio check ins only go so far. Curiously, he has rejected our contact more than once, although we have no other reason to suspect major health issue.

“Today’s launch was supposed to be a prototype of an unmanned exploration vehicle. It was designed to collect samples and return autonomously. Instead, with a few modifications, we are sending it to bring the Captain home.”

A hand next to the now-empty spot went up. “Sir?” a woman said. “If it’s autonomous, why are we here? Shouldn’t Captain Huang be able to just get inside, strap on a harness and let the ship do the rest?”

Erick sighed, and leaned over a podium off to a side of the dais. “Folks, this is where it gets weird. Anyone else thinking about stepping down, i need you to do so now.” his eyes swept the remaining crew. “Anyone?” No one moved, although few met his gaze. “Ok then. The Devos X was attacked upon approach. We don’t know by who, or even by what, yet.

“Whoa. You’re telling me there are aliens, and they wrecked one of our craft?” A young man with slicked-back blond hair on the front row looked skeptical.

“WE DON’T KNOW, yet.” Moebus emphasized without yelling. “we suspect, but we have not been able to confirm, that there are intelligent lifeforms outside the Hab. That's where you come in. Hopefully we let the ship land itself, Roger gets aboard with a few armloads of local rocks, and it takes off.”

“But we doubt that's going to happen.” Missy stood up. Erik glared at her, but she just shrugged. “What? It’s true.”

“Ladies and Gentlemen, MAJOR Melinda Jennison is going to take you through some of the finer points. Miss?”

“You got it, boss.” Missy bounced up to the podium and set down her tablet. the screen was immediately mirrored behind her. “This is top secret classified footage. This was the last thing captured from inside the Devos X.” she pressed play, and the video started with Cassie being flung to her death. She twitched and rasped through the hole in her chest before the attacker in a space suit blocked the camera. when the scene cleared, Leon's head was in the grip of spindly black fingers.

Missy paused the picture when the visor went up. “This,” she pointed at the screen “is our obstacle. She hasn't declared as an enemy yet--for all we know she got what she wanted.”

A hand shot up in the gallery “She? how do we know whether that thing has a gender at all?”

“We had the boys at NSA run some facial recognition and comparison on this video clip. They came back with 98% certainty that this thing,” she motioned to the creature breaking Leon's neck, “has the face of Marianne Nelson, Captain of the Devos IX.”

“Has the face of? What does that mean, exactly?”

“Just that our tech recognizes the bone structure and muscle shape. Whether something has tried to copy that, or whether that is actually her in some way.. we can't say, yet.”

“Yet?”

“I'll take that one, Miss,” Erick hopped back on stage. “Once the ship lands, it could get hairy. We don’t know who these things are or what they want.. but they are definitely, DEFINITELY hostile.” he looked around the room. On your desktops is a folder containing the REAL mission. we are going to go in constant comm with Roger the last week, and make this as close to a touch and go as physics will allow. That means all of you need to be sharp every minute until then. we will not have a second crew; you in this room are it. I am not overstating when I say the future of manned spaceflight rests on this mission. Let's do it!”

“Ok, you heard the man!” Missy jumped back in. “start reading your mission files but leave it here. anyone with this info outside of this room will be shot first and no questions asked later. Got it? Great. see you all at 1300 hours for our first round table.”

----

“Hrdiits!!” Marianne cursed her cohorts as she wiped blood and slime from the walls. At least most of the surfaces were nonporous and easy to clean. The fabric of the outside walls would be tricky, though. she might need to “bump” a camera or two just enough to change their field of view.

“Heyy, Marianne!” Roger called from the kitchen where he munched on a freeze-dried attempt at Lucky Charms. “I think you missed a spot..”

She bristled. “Now, now,” he said. “Your ride is on the way. You just have to put up with me for a couple more months, then you can head out and do whatever you want, ok?”

That seemed to placate the monster, who returned to scrubbing the floor. They both jumped when the video call rang. “Head outside, Roger said. “I’ll call you when we’re clear.”

Marianne growled. “I’ll stay offscreen. But i’m listening in.”

Roger sighed. “Fine.” he answered the call by waving a hand at the screen. “Hey guys, what’s the update?” His words were cheery, but his tone was dull.

“Hey Roger, everything is on schedule. We are one week out from extraction. you ready to come home?”

“Sure. Whatever.” he waved a hand dismissively. Anything I need to do before then?”

“Uhm...Just get the experiments packed and by the door.”

“Why? Why can’t I just bring them out when the ship gets here?”

“We’re going to try a touch and go. We'll alert you and have you suited up two hours before the ship arrives. Once it touches down, we will have you headed home in 10 minutes. What gets on board, great, as long as you are there.”

“Why bother? I've been here for almost a year; a  few hours isn't going to make a difference.”

“Well sir, the powers that be made us give more than ‘saving a human’ as a reason for this trip, so we are proving a new engine. Don't worry, it's fully tested, we are just showing off that it works in space. Plus the sooner we get in orbit, the straighter shot we can get to home.”

Roger was unconvinced. “So what's the plan? I assume you wouldn't be telling me this unless it was happening soon?”

“Yezews sir. Just a week left! See you soon!”

“Huang out.” Roger unceremoniously cut off the call. “What do you suppose that was about?” he called, knowing Marianne would already be slinking up behind him.

“They Hkk Know.” she hissed.

“About you? yeah probably.” In a single slide, she had a hand at his neck, her 4 inch claws ready to slice his esophagus. “Oh, chill out. I didn't tell them anything.” her face contorted to show skepticism. “At the other end of that call is a room full of the smartest people in the world, who had a video feed from every corner of this place until you show up and slaughter my crew.” She started to object, but he cut her off. “Twice, actually. That was fun to watch, you know? Anyway, they probably have something in mind  for you, so stay away from the ship until the last moment. I'll leave the hold unlocked for you. Deal?”

She nodded. “Deal.”

****

“Good morning sunshine, yeah that's what the Rock just said..”

Missy rolled forward and smacked Erick's arm. “I thought you got rid of that stupid app, Erick!”

Moevus, suddenly wide awake, fumbled to silence his phone. “I forgot, ok? Besides, it's funny!” He rolled back and planted a peck on her forehead. “Besides, how am I gonna get ripped for you if I don't follow the Rock Workout?”

Somewhere in his diatribe she started laughing, a loud belly laugh with the occasional snort when she tried to stop. “Honey..,” giggle, snort, “ha, that's never happening” laugh break “But I love you anyway, babe.”

“awww, thanks.” He leaned in for another kiss.

“ew! no!” she put a hand over her mouth. “morning breath!”

He chuckled, but moved away. “Ok. I gotta get ready for the big day. Night. Whatever the hell it is.” he pulled on a button down shirt and fiddled with the tie still under its collar. “We start at 5, yeah?”

“yep.” She looked at her phone. 3pm. you're lucky we work together. I would NOT put up with this schedule for just anyone, you know that?”

Erick just grinned as he shrugged on a coat. “Love you too. See you there?”

Missy threw a pillow at him and ducked under the covers.

***

“This is it, folks!” Erick Moebus stood on the familiar platform, 30 pairs of eyes fixed over their screens on him. Dozens of numbers scrolled across the curved wall behind him, denoting a countdown, status reports of several systems on the ship and the hab. “In one hour, we will attempt one of the most advanced, some would say craziest, maneuvers in the history of human flight. We are taking a newly modified craft, landing it on a 10-foot square pad on a foreign planet, loading it with a single crew and remotely launching it back into space, all in less than thirty minutes. You've all read your files. You are here because you are the best of the best in your fields. Succeed, and we get to announce the most daring rescue in the universe!” he paused to let the excitement simmer down. “but fail, and prepare to recite ‘would you like fries with that?’ for the rest of your lives.

“This is it for me, too. win, lose or draw, I want to thank you all for being part of my last mission. The doctors say I take on too much stress.” He cast a glance over his shoulder, where a live shot of the Hab kitchen was streaming. blood still stained the wall over the distance couch. “I can't imagine why..” he chuckled, and the tension in the room momentarily disbursed.

“Reports! where are we at. Karlov!” he pointed at a young man in the front row.

The team ran down a litany of data, all pointing toward the ship performing as expected, being where expected, and ready to carry out a perfectly expectation-meeting mission. But Erick suspected something more was in store for them.

“all right, folks! All system prepped and ready for final descent. begin sequences on my mark. Everyone?” He swept the room. 30 pairs of eyes were locked on him. “3..2...1...Mark.” With that, keyboards started rattling as the scientists dug in for the landing. On the screen, a camera on the side of the landing capsule came on, splitting the screen with the Hab feed. “Roger!” Erick called. “You ready for this, man?”

“As I'm gonna get,” was Huang's blase response. His voice echoed inside the helmet he was already wearing. “full suit assembled, experiments and rocks packed and ready. Looking at about 300 earth-kilo of cargo on top of my carcass. that going to be a problem?”

“Nah, you're good. Load em up, your taxi will be there shortly!”

Somewhere off screen, Roger stacked a half-dozen plastic cases on a two-wheeled dolly. in truth they were all empty but he rattled them as though they were loaded with equipment and rocks.

“you ok there? You've still got a few minutes”

I'm FINE.” Roger cut Missy off. “Cargo is ready in the airlock.”

“Perfect!” Missy chirped back, a little too happy to counter his obvious nerves. “we're right on schedule and you will have a front-row seat to the landing!”

“Starting final approach!” someone called from the back.

“Ok, starting final approach! Roger, talk to you soon!” the connection went dead.

“Well acted.” Marianne was in the airlock, minus the large suit Roger wore. somehow her skin still oozed that slime she left everywhere. “I bet they will focus on landing and not even think about us.”

“I hope so.” Roger motioned to the stack of empty crates. “I'm ready to be done.” he looked her in the eye at the last statement, knowing she caught what he meant.

“Of course. With any luck you won't even have to ride back. we have to be sure, though, that they will launch. There can’t be any failsafes.”

BOOM! The rocket broke into the atmosphere like a falling star. The concussion rocked the sides of the Hab and pushed Roger into Marianne. “Don’t go getting any ideas,” he smirked. “It's just business between you and me.”

She scoffed and threw him across the airlock. the rocket slowed and rotated into place, landing with precision as the door lined up perfectly with the airlock exit. just 30 meters between the two doors. It was a tall, slender craft, very unlike what he had come in on. There might even be some crew cabins up there!

He rolled the dolly across the red sand. Opened the lower hatch. Rev and OTHERGUY appeared from somewhere behind the Hab and hopped on. He left the crates to be destroyed when the ship took off.

Roger grabbed a handle and pulled the airlock open. He stepped in and pressed the button to equalize the air. Beep! the button turned green, letting him know the air had equalized and it was safe to take his helmet off. “Alright Houston, let's light this candle.” he said as he reached up and popped the seal on his head gear. He turned to open the other side, and found it locked. It buzzed with every attempt to open it, as though..

“SHIT.” He turned and saw Marianne turn the handle and throw the door open, exposing him to the thin Martian atmosphere.

Freezing cold rushed in as oxygen rushed out. Roger felt his skin grow brittle and his facial hair freeze in place. He tried to yell but his mouth went painfully dry and only a guttural sound came out.

“Oh my god. don't be such a baby!” Marianne pulled the hatch behind her and hit the equalize button. “You get used to it.” she flicked some ooze off her arm. “and you adapt.” The internal door dinged, and the light turned green. “ See you inside?” She pulled the inside hatch and disappeared into the ship.

Roger just lay on the floor, shivering and choking. even in the minute the door was open, he had lost feeling in his hands and feet. With his helmet off, the suit offered no protection as its pressurized air rushed out into the atmosphere. thud. thud. his heart pounded in his head. Slowly, feeling came back to his face, and he wished it hadn’t. Acid burns would be preferable to the heat rising under his skin and steaming through his pores. He writhed and grunted against his dry throat until his muscles spasmed with fatigue. Slowly, mercifully, the world went dark.

***

“Are we ready?” Moebus called to the room. “Ops! Sitrep!”

Missy smiled into her mic as she reported. “all systems go, commander! Cargo is stowed, life systems are online, bays are sealed! we don't have comms to the bridge due to solar interference, but we have confirmed Roger was on board and the door was sealed.”

“Alright, let's do it! Final launch sequence on my mark. 3, 2, 1, mark.”

Fingers flew on keyboards. “Engines ready!” “Comms ready!” “guidance ready!” “fuel ready!”

That last one gave Erick an extra boost of confidence, given what had happened the last times he had fired a rocket on mars.

“ready to lift!” Erick pressed a button on the podium, and a countdown started on the screen behind him. “10...9...8...ignition sequence start..” the screen showed engines instantly heating up, and loud static came across the com.

“4, 3, 2, 1… Liftoff. we have liftoff from the surface of mars.” Erick allowed a smile to break across his face. They had done it. Roger was safely in his pod, shooting toward Earth. A few adjustments to get him pointed in the right direction, and he would be home free.

“Breaking orbit.. now.” Missy was still all business, keeping a sharp eye on all the data streams and calling out the relevant high points. “free float. 1 second port burn on my mark.. Mark.”

That was it. the ship was now on a collision course. “Everyone listen up!” Erick yelled, and the room quieted. “I just wanted to thank you all for your service here today. Roger will come on in a minute to thank you himself, but I get to be the first to announce that WE DID IT! He's coming home!”

The room broke into thunderous applause, with a few hoots and hollers for effect. Alright! yeah! Now I need quiet for one more minute while we reconnect to the cockpit. Here we go. Missy?”

Missy had never broken eye contact with her console. “You got it boss. one way video, two way audio..now.”

A new window popped up on the screen wall. It flickered, and then lit with a shot of the cockpit. “Hello,HRK Commander,” the voice dripped with sarcasm. 30 heads popped up to find the source of the voice that was not Roger.

“I… The fuck?” Erick lost all sense of professionalism at the sight of two people in the ship. Roger was there, strapped in, but barely conscious. In the jump seat, fully aware and engaged with the camera, was Marianne Axelson.

“That's no way to greet your mission leader..” she still had that screechy hiss to her voice. “I will be your contact until Captain Huang joins us. See you soon!”

Total silence settled on the control room. Everyone just stared at the unbelievable video. Sure, they had known there was a chance this “Marianne” would show up, but it just seemed so far-fetched. Seeing her, in a seat that hadn’t been expected to see use this trip, was stunning.

“What is Captain Huang's status? what happened to him?”

“Oh, he just HAck got a little too much fresh air. He will be fine in a few hours. I think.”

Roger did not at all look like he would be fine, but what could they do? “Keep us apprised of the situation. The coordinates are preprogrammed; should you find yourself drifting WE will correct course. In the meantime don't touch anything, and do not use any of the supplies intended for Captain Huang. If you attempt to change course, all control will be revoked.

Johnson Center, OUT.” He emphasized the last word so that Missy would know to cut ties. She did, and the screen went black.

***

“Wake up, Brother” Marianne growled. Roger's head jerked to the side, his mouth open, and he coughed. coughing,  hacking, wheezing. He grabbed at his throat. “HHhh.. Hhhh!” was all he could get out. It felt like swallowing sand with every inhale, yet his palms were incredibly sweaty. He tried to call out a few more times before giving up and just concentrating on breathing. So dry. he tried to work up some saliva with his tongue, but no luck. “hhoowww?”

“You get used to it.” when his face turned quizzical, she chuckled before breaking into a long, dry coughing fit. “HHRRK. I lied. every breath is like a thousand tiny razors. the inside of your throat is dry and cracked, like bloody hands in winter. Your skin shrivels until every sinew stands out like a beacon. and you will know pain, unending, unyielding. Now, sleep while you can. Moebus is waiting.” With that, she punched him hard enough to snap his head to the side, and he slumped in his seat.

***

“What do we do now?” Jason Garrison, a tech in the back row, asked the question everyone was thinking.

“This is why you're here folks. This is what we assembled this team to face. A monster, possibly formerly human, is headed toward earth with a hostage that we have spent considerable time, energy, and money to bring home.

What do we do? You tell me. Jason? Arin? Callista? Chef? We have about a month to put something together. See you in the conference room in one hour to get started.”

***

“Hrk! HORK! rrgghhaaa!” Roger growled through his pain and flailed about the tiny capsule. “urggry!”

“There’s food in the pantry. But only eat one pack. I know you're starving. I am too. but we can live with minimal sustenance.” She threw a look his way, “I'm sure of it.”

“hHrrw Ttk?” he grunted in frustration. the pain and dryness conspired against letting him form full words.

“I've had years to practice,” she hissed, “and I still sound like this. and yes, it still hurts. Like hell.”

“mph. Urg.”

“You get used to it. or you listen to me, like Rev and Chase. They were happy to be led.”

Roger let out a snort. “kkypkl. Rrrke.”

“Hey, none of us had been to Mars before. and none of us had been… This.” she unfurled a long, sinewy arm. Black mucous dripped from her clawed fingers. “They took what came. I led, they saw the chance to live.”

They sat in silence for a while then, just watching the stars roll by.

Eventually, Roger screwed up his courage (and his face) and groaned out, “Hhyy oooh mmett eeev HRRRKOUGH!” he launched into a long, rasping fit, interspersed with yelps when he could get a spot of air.

“ThinkKrk about it. Why WOULD I keep you alive, now that I'm on my way to earth? Why? So that you would have to choose. You see now what we've become. You feel what we've felt all these years.” she choked, cleared her throat several times, and continued, “Wouldn't you want to let us have our revenge, even if you don't assist? Or do you turn on me, possibly win, and go back, only to become a freak, a science experiment, the expendable pawn you've always been?”

Roger did not answer.

“Think on it, Captain Huang gukCofff. The world awaits your answer.”

***

“I say we come in loaded for bear,” Jason leaned into the table. “Call out the guard, have air support on call, and just blow the ship and all to kingdom come.”

“But what about Captain Huang? what about that..thing? we could catch it, investigate it! we could have the first sentient Martian on earth!”“IS it a Martian, though? Or could it actually be Marianne? The mission dossier noted a possible change from the radiation..”

“Really? Martian zombie monsters coming to take their revenge? c'mon..”

“The fact is, we don't really know WHAT we're dealing with, yet. We need a containment plan. We need to keep them, and us, safe until we work out what's actually going on.”

“So we need a way to keep something we don't know what it is inside while it lands a rocket and then debrief it without making any contact? Did I miss the high points?”

“And keep containment long enough to assess whether there is a threat, how dangerous the threat is, and let us decide what to do with that threat.”

“Oh. ok. Sorry I missed that.” Jason's comment dripped with sarcasm.

“Hey, you guys are the best! This is exactly why you're here. You saw how it went on mars-- we could land this thing with a handful of kindergarteners and a coked-up chihuahua. YOU were always here in case this very thing happened. Now,” Erick struck a pose, fingertips extended as he leaned in to grab each eye around the table before he continued, “Figure. It. Out. You have one week before we need to start gathering resources.” around the table, half a dozen engineers exchanged nervous glances and shuffled their tablet computers like paper. Erick stood. He pulled out his phone. “I'm going for caffeine. you all have my number, text your orders. Anything else you need, too. we're here for the duration, kids.” Moebus waved his phone in the air, then turned and left.

***

LANDING DAY

Maybe it was nerves. Maybe it was the desert air. Maybe it was just a tiny breath of fear, but something gnawed at the back of Erick's mind as he looked out at the landing dome. It had been a massive undertaking, a project of a scope and scale that only a government (or a psychotic billionaire) could have pulled off. A gigantic steel circle stood 150 feet high and 75  feet across, a drab gray monolith in the white sands of the Mojave. the idea was to let the ship do its vertical landing inside the ring, with a crane standing by to lower a dome on top of it. the dome was wired for lighting, breathing air, and communication. A single reinforced “vault style” door led into the flat desert, and was guarded by a squad of Marines in full body armor and automatic weapons.  Two tanks stood by, just in case.

Erick took it all in from the safety of the control bunker. He hoped one day it would stand as a monument to earth's first, cautious contact with extraterrestrials. _not the Erick Moebus Memorial_, he couldn't help musing. “How long ‘til the landing?” he called out for the fortieth time.

“Eleven minutes on my mark. .. Mark!” Mission Specialist Jennison's voice came over the intercom. Missy had elected to stay at the Johnson space center in Houston. Erick was the overall commander here on site, but she was coordinating her team to be ready for an emergency takeover.

The wall of monitors Moebus was used to had been replicated here, and the data was mirrored between the two. A top row of TVs had been added showing cameras that ringed the landing site. The marine team with their heavy automatics waited at the ready, with the sealing dome hanging from its crane cable behind them. above, the rocket would be visible already, streaking down like a shooting star. It was the calm before the storm.

“How long until..”

“Seven minutes on my mark, commander..” there was a pregnant pause before, “Mark.”

***

“Here hck! eego!” Roger still hadn't gotten the hang of this new “voice”. and his throat still burned. Every joint screamed in protest whenever he moved, although the months between launch and now had taught him to ignore that if he wanted to eat. Marianne wasnt the nurturing type.

“So you've decided? [cough] You'll join me in extracting revenge on Moebus?”

“They knew the risk Kk Hk urg or really didnt, but sent us anyway..” he checked his harness and settled in to watch the cockpit window fill with flames. “Let's do it.”

Marianne smirked, the closest thing to a smile herher new face allowed. “Indeed. Let's do it.”

***

“Five minutes to contact, sir!” one of the team called out. Erick was already in position at the front of the room, glued to the data streams being fed from both the landing site and the ship. “Sitrep!” he called.

For the first time since he could remember, a voice that was not Missy called back. “all systems stable. Crane standing by. Security standing by. Targeting system shows plus or minus 50 feet. Winds are higher than expected..” he paused, “There’s a chance they will miss containment.”

“How much of a chance?”

“1 in 3, they hit the side on approach but the dome covers it. 1 in 99, they hit the edge and set off the primacord for the welds, and the pod disintegrates.”

“Frankly I'm ok with that. What are the odds they miss entirely?”

The mission specialist tapped a few keys and looked up. “Final Approach!” he pointed at the top monitors, where a bright light had appeared in the dusky sky.

“Everyone, stand by for impact!” Erick was screaming over the awed quiet. “Detonators armed and ready! Life systems active! Go!” His eyes never left the screen. The ring of cameras outside the concrete-reinforced bunker swiveled to show the rim of the landing ring. The landing capsule fired its engines, and the screens in the bunker went white as the flames came closer.

Twenty-eight people in New Mexico and half as many in Houston held a breath as seconds stretched into weeks as the light and heat blocked any visual contact. Even inside the bunker, the thunder from the landing boosters could be felt. The sensor data wall went blank.

Then, it lit up red and alarms went off. The video showed the ship had hit the target, and the explosives set to weld the dome in place were already shooting sparks. But the life systems hadn’t come online, and the landing had been HARD. without a visual confirmation, they could only see what the sensors told them--that all the sensors were broken, or not reporting.

“We have to get in there!” a young tech yelled.

“Not yet!” another countered. “We don’t know if it’s safe!”

“What about Roger?” came the reply.

That was the tipping point. Suddenly the whole room murmured his name.

Moebus picked up a radio and put it to his lips. “Strike team 1, prepare for entry.”

***

Roger shied away from the white flames that bounced back off the containment shield and blasted the windscreen. The heat did not reach him, but the sight of such natural fury still made him wince.

“grrroww. uuuuhhh gk,” Marianne hadn't spoken for a few weeks, and her voice had lost itspolished edge. “ack. kill.”

“hhhhheeeeyeah..” Roger whispered. “kill.”

Marianne smiled, baring her spiked front teeth. he had finally come around. they would land soon. Rev and Chase would take the first wave, then she and Roger would vault in and find Moebus. The traitor. The killer. It had been his idea to launch them sidelong at the martian surface. His fault they lost communication right before the hatch broke open, sucking their breathing air out and the martian atmosphere in. That they could somewhat breathe was surprise enough, as they ran, gagging, for the Hab airlock. There wasnt time to suit up properly. But then, one by one, they fell, a line of desolation across across the red planet. Leon had made it thr furthest, his hand brushing the lock on the hab door before hypoxia won and he crashed, unconscious.

And then the dreams. Violent, chaotic fever dreams of darkness and slimy tentacles wrapping them all, smashing the life out, remaking them. Waking up was the greatest surprise of Marianne’s life, followed closely by what she saw when she rose. Rev and Chase, her crew, her little “family in the sky” replaced by hulking monsters with charred skin, wild eyes and huge claws. They dripped with some sort of thick, clear fluid as they circled each other, a pile of clothes between them. Had they eaten the boys??

Marianne tried to scream but the sound struck against a throat so dry the skin peeled from her palate when she opened her mouth. A whimper slipped out.

The two monsters spun and scamper-galloped her way. She shrunk back against the base of the ship that had thrown her out, looking for anything to hide behind, or something to swing. the two beasts came closer. Marianne felt herself crouch in ready. She looked down at her hands, and was shocked to see charred-black skin leading out to 4 inch claws.

Suddenly, as though by animal instinct, she crouched into a ready position. When the other two were only steps away, she launched, catching each with a set of claws through the midsection. Any human would have been staggered by the damage. These two just stepped back, shook it off, and raised their own claws to their sides, ready to attack.

“Mari… it's...mee…” one of them growled, eyes still locked on hers.

She started, but maintained her ready stance. She tried to reply “And who, pray tell, is Me?” but what came out was more like “Hhaannoo PrrrRrr Eee?” each sound tore at her throat and she fought back tears. “Who yyyoou?” she managed to follow up.

“hhRev. Chaaasse”. the second monster motioned to himself, then his compatriot. He pointed a single claw her direction. “Mare. Aannn.”

Marianne stared at the monster. The other one was watching, defensive but not waiting to strike. There was something in their eyes. something.. human? She looked closer. That sharp nose, those wide brows.. it COULD be Rev. But what had happened to them? How had they survived? She looked down at her charred-looking hands with huge claws. maybe the same thing that had happened to her.

Here they were, stuck on the Red Planet, with a busted up ship, an inflatable Hab that was still trying to get online, and no solid communication link back to Earth. Stranded. Abandoned. Left to burn up like so much space junk. What was that kid's name? The one whose “brilliant idea” had gotten them here.

“Moebussss” Marianne hissed at her crewmates, “did thissss..” She spun on a heel, her claws catching Chase and flaying his arm. “Work to do.” she waved toward the Hab. “Be ready..” she spluttered into a coughing fit. blood sprayed from her lungs onto the red sandy surface. Finally she was able to clear her throat, and she found a bit more of her voice. “I have a plan. They will pay for this.”

She rose up to her full height, which was now a good foot taller than she had been, and spun toward the Hab. three steps, and she came around, claws out. “Are. You. Coming?” it was as much a threat as a question. the others shuffled uncomfortably before making their way inside.

“Positions!” the team leader yelled. a dozen Marines with submachine guns fanned out around the entrance to the containment ring. the leader touched his earpiece. “Ready on your signal.”

Moebus took a deep breath. “Open the doors. Commander, clear the area and secure anyone you find inside.”

“Received” came the reply. Slowly, two giant doors cracked apart with a hiss. inside was completely dark owing to the rocket that had just landed, burning out any electrical systems not fully embedded in the steel ring. Two at a time, the marines advanced. Their weapons were held out at the ready, where they doubled as flashlight holders.

“Ready!” the soldiers called out as they entered in pairs and fanned out. The interior was a simple circle around the landed engine. they split, two teams of three going around each way. “Side A breach!” came over the radio. “Side B breach!” was the reply from another soldier. It was mostly chatter to keep the colonel in the loop as they made their way into the dark dome. “hep!” and “Hup!” echoed from the open doors.

“Side A.. what the fuuuuu” gunshots rang from the right side of the doors.

“MAN DOWN! MAN DOW..” loud crashes echoed through the speakers in command central, then gunshots. The automatic weapons drowned out running feet trying to make it around from side B.

“B Leader! What’s the situation?!” The commander barked. Back inside, Moebus’ stomach clenched.

“Monsters! They’re fast! We can’t hold.. Shut the doors!” He was all but hyperventilating.

Operations was too happy to comply. “Doors closing sequence engaged. Doors closing in”

“BELAY THAT!” the ground commander screamed. “WE DON’T LEAVE OUR MEN TO DIE. Engage artillery, advance positions, secondary team ready!”

“Sir, with all due respect,” Moebus started

“Fuck your respect. I’m here to do a job, and I. WILL. DO IT. All units, secure channel four-one-niner.” A loud click informed the control room they had been cut off from the ground crew.

“Get it back!” Moebus yelled to no one in particular. The room was quiet. “Anyone? Why did we lose comm?”

“Sir? The ops manager piped up. “Four one niner is a military-only secure channel. We don’t have access. Honestly we don’t even know what frequency it is.”

“Well, figure it out!” Moebus’ phone rang. He checked the screen, “I’ll be back in 5 minutes or less, and I expect results! Hello!!”

“Whoa, babe, bring it down a notch.” Missy’s voice belied a forced calm. “These guys need you to be the voice of reason.”

“Look, Miss, i’m kind of in the middle of an alien invasion here. Did you need something, or what?”
“Just to remind you that one of those is, or was, Roger. And that’s why you got this damned mission in the first place.” Her voice was icy. “Love you. Bye.” the line disconnected.

“Miss, wait, I..” Erick looked at his phone to see “call ended” flashing. “Dammit!” he dropped the phone in his pocket and went back to control.

The metal doors stood open. Flashes popped one way, then another, followed by PINGs off the ring. “HOLD POSITIONS!” The commander screamed over the crashing noise. Two tanks moved their guns to be locked on the opening. “Steady..” Commander said. The bullets and crashing died down, and it was quiet. too quiet. “All teams, report in!” Silence gave the reply he had been dreading. “Switch me back to comms with the control center.” he waited for a click that told him he had been reconnected. “Captain, just how bulletproof is that capsule of yours?”

“Smithers! What the fuck? You can't just”

“I can just, Moebus. and right now I need an answer. will .108 rounds go through that capsule or not?”

Erick paused. “Through the top, maybe. Through the bottom with all the shielding? not unless you can land several shots in the same place.”

“Understood. Secure channel!”

“Wait! what are you.. Fuck!” Moebus screamed into the silence.

Smithers signaled forward and the tanks inched until they were only a few feet from the still-silent ring.

“ready!” Smithers raised a gloved hand. “two shots, depleted, fire at will!”

He raised a hand, and both tanks fired, twice. Four depleted uranium rounds roared into the open ring doors and smashed through the reinforced bottom of the landing capsule, melting the ceramic armor like pudding. The shells crashed into the back wall of the ring, then fell to the ground with a THUNK.

Flame and shrapnel came out as a cloud, and the vacuum slammed the giant doors like a bell. The left door bent at the force; it hung slightly ajar. Smithers signaled an advance and a platoon came around the tanks and moved on the gap. they formed up four abreast and readied guns to attack the ring. “ready"s rang out on the radio as each soldier clicked their safety off.

“Open Comm!” Smithers barked. “you see, Mr Moebus, this is how you finish the job. ALL TEAMS, BREACH!”

one soldier reached for the door, his fingers inches from the gap, when the hinges squealed and the doors slammed open. Two commandos were instantly killed by the impact, and the rest backed up half a step, weapons ready but bewildered.

“Hello.” Marianne purred as she stepped out of the dark of the ring, Roger in tow. She surveyed the assorted hardware before her and grinned. “Goodbye.”

with that, she and Roger launched, their newfound strength not troubled by the gravity of earth, and stabbed their way through the soldiers.

She ran the 20 yards to Smithers. “I have no beef with you,” she stared into his eyes, “but you're in my way.” she unceremoniously shoved her claws up through his gut, through the important bits in his ribcage, and threw him under a nearby tank. “now. I need a ride. Roger? Open the door for a lady?”

they bounded onto the nearest tank and, between them, easily ripped the hatch off.

They dropped in, and got to work. Marianne ran the driver through with her claws, while Roger snapped the other two's heads off. He tossed the heads out, and then the bodies after them. Marianne simply kicked the dead driver to the floor and dropped into his seat.

“You know how to drive one of these?”
“I drove a spaceship. How much harder can it be?” She grabbed the control yoke and shoved the throttle forward. “See? Easy.” the tank rattled to life and shuddered forward, quickly picking up speed.

The remaining soldiers on the ground started shooting immediately. “ping"s echoed inside the tank like so much hail in a late summer storm. “get the other tank,” Marianne called calmly.

Roger slid from the navigation console to the gunner's seat. he brought the turret around, turned on the sights, and..

“could you hold still? it's damn near impossible to get a lock with all the bouncing.”

“oh I'm sorry, I forgot to book a scraper while I was Stranded on Mars. DEAL WITH IT.”

“Sheesh” Roger muttered, before grabbing the controls again. He brought up the crosshairs and shifted to a spot just in front the other tank. Blam! He hit one of the tracks. “Hit!” Roger crowed, as the other tank bounced and sprayed white sands with its newly-detached tread. He pulled the breach to reload, and took aim again. This time he wanted to hit the gun, leaving them dead in the water. But he was too late. As he watched, the stationary enemy swung around and fired a shell directly into their turret. Roger ducked away from the sight. Marianne kicked the throttle to high, but the shell still made contact. Red hot shrapnel burst into the cockpit and into the back of her head. Roger screamed and swatted at some smaller pieces in his forearms. Marianne calmly reached up, pulled a large shank out of her shoulder, and continued driving.

“Wha..” Roger gaped as her flesh pulled together where the gash had been.

“Hang on,” Marianne growled, “we're about to visit the drive through.”

They crested the hill where the command center stood. The blast shields were still covering the plate glass windows that looked out over the landing container.

“Shoot it.” Marianne commanded.

“our turret doesnt work. Even if I can get a shot off, the breach won't seal and”

“SHOOT. IT.”

Roger sighed, and opened the breach to put in another shell. As he had predicted, the chamber wouldn't seal, but he was able to pull the bent latch enough to convince the computerized safety system that it was latched.

multicolored lines flickered across the targeting screen where pieces of the top hatch had come to rest, so it was as much a guess as actual aiming. Roger could see that the turret was still pointed down where he'd hit the other tank's tread. He didnt have vertical control anymore, so he just swung the gun toward the front and fired.

Flames shot out of the breach and scorched Rogers's arm. “Aagh!” he cried out, then waited for his skin to close up as it always did.

This time, it did not. “well, shit.” he looked out the window slot, and saw his shot had been true: the shell had hit the bottom of the blast shutters and bent them.

Marianne threw the throttle all the way forward and let go of the yoke. “hit it again!”

Roger looked at the mangled knot of metal where the loading breach had been. “yeah, that's not happening. We've shot our last. You're going to have to do it.”

Marianne growled, but grabbed the yoke again. “Brace for impact, then.” she rode up a small ridge, and then, CRUNCH.

***

“Smithers! Dammit, someone get me reconnected!” Moebus tore off his headset and slung it around his neck. “We need to know what's going on out”

K'BLAM! something bashed into the west wall, where blast shields covered a wall of windows. the bottom edge of the center shields bent inward, and a fist-size hole appeared in the metal. The pane of glass exploded inward. shards large and small rained over the control room, engineers ducking under their desks to avoid the fallout.

“Ops! Sitrep! NOW!”

“it appears one of the tanks is firing on us, sir.”

“why?!”

“I've no idea, sir. we lost most of our visual in the first volley and we've been disconnected from radio..”

“Don't remind me.” Erick rubbed at his temples, temporarily slowing a rising headache. “Ok, positions, everyone! We need to take up a defensive”

WHAM! something heavy bashed into the weakened shield. the remaining upper parts of the window gave way and fell as a large sheet. Time seemed to slow then, glass hitting the floor and exploding into a million tiny pieces as the tank took a second run and this time, made it through. A support post bent like a twig in a hurricane. Between the flying glass, twisted metal, and the tank shuddering to a stop, two-thirds of the team lay bloodied with limbs cut and tossed as easily as their IKEA-grade desks.   The roof slid down and sliced into the ground, making a new blast shield--this time trapping the remaining engineers in an arena they never signed up for. Alarm bells rang and red lights flashed from every corner of the room as security doors slammed into place and locked

“SMITHERS!!” Moebus was screaming, now. He walked toward the now-dead tank, stepping over the pieces of his colleagues that littered the floor.

Marianne reached up and punched the hatch with both hands. it shook, but didnt give. “Give me a hand with this,” she growled, and Roger complied. Together they pushed the mangled door upward. She was first out. She stood at the front of the machine and surveyed the damage.

“So, COMMANDER,” she sneered as she said it, “what did your calculations say was the odds of this?”

A brave intern who had escaped injury by being at the back of the room charged now and jumped at the tank. He missed and scrabbled at the tread, trying to pull himself up.

“Pathetic,” she tsk'd before running him through. He slid down the treads and stared, unseeing. “This is the team the great Erick Moebus cobbled together to kill me?”

“We came for Roger, to get him home.”

“I'm touched, really,” Roger came out then and sat on the defunct barrel. “But what can I say? Shit happens,” he waved to Marianne” and you do what you gotta do. She wanted to kill you and I wanted to not die, and well, here we are.”

Erick had no response. What was there to say? He looked from one to the other, noticing for the first time that they were both naked. No wonder; they had both grown a foot or more and put on untold bulk. Nothing on any of the ships would have fit. “so, what now? you tell me why you flew halfway across the galaxy to kill me? Why you created another monster?”

Marianne jumped down and sauntered up to him. She considered the sharpened tips of her 6-inch claws. He shuddered involuntarily but held his ground.

“Nah.” She shoved one hand through his midsection, “I’m pretty sure you know,” then the other set of claws rammed through his ribcage. She smiled as he slid away. He fell back against a wall and left a bight red slick as he buckled to the floor.

“What the fu” was all a survivor was able to yell before the roof fell in. A bright flash, and then heat. Everywhere, fire broke out as a lava-like substance roiled over every available inch.

“Napalm!” Marianne screamed. “YOU!” she spun and pointed at Roger.

“Yep.” he chewed a nail. “I noticed, there’s a way to hurt us,” he held out his charred arm. “You got your revenge. You’re done now.” He hopped down off the tank into the pooling napalm and screamed.

Marianne growled in frustration, but it was no use. The napalm rolled toward her. She stared down at Moebus’ lifeless form. “I should have let you burn.”

THE END