Here's an update at last. It's been a couple of months, but I feel I don't think this was unreasonably late. There's not much else to say – I edited the format a bit to make things a bit easier on myself, but that's about it. My guess is that the wait for the next chapter will be about this long, but I'm not entirely sure; like I said, my other story comes first.

Chapter 2

In hindsight, sneaking might have been a better plan than running blindly into the unknown, but that was irrelevant. All that mattered was not stopping.

Another series of roars and bellows momentarily drowned out the heavy slapping of alien feet on metal and automated comments about "quarantine", not to mention hitting Curtis with another shot of adrenaline. In the dark, echoing hallway, the creatures might have been a hundred feet away, but it sounded like they were about to sink their blades into his neck.

He tried to scream, but the only noise his frozen voice box produced was a small yelp, barely audible over the din. Then, in the distance, he saw something beautiful – an elevator with a small tram sign affixed above it, shining like the sun in a world illuminated by red emergency lights.

The alarms, screams, moans and footsteps faded as he drew closer, though whether he was outrunning them or simply imagining it was impossible to say. But he didn't care anymore, because he was –

In an instant, Curtis fell prone to the floor, bashing his head against the cold metal.

6 Days Pre-Outbreak

Slowly waking up, Curtis looked around; most people had disappeared, leaving a lounge full of scattered velvet chairs. Checking his RIG, he soon saw why. He'd been asleep for six hours! Briefly panicking, he remembered there was still plenty of time until de-shock, so nothing important had happened.

But he felt good! The pain in his head was nearly gone, and he hadn't rested so well in days because of all his excitement. Combined with the intense workout of splitting giant rocks open for hours at a time, he'd be in perfect shape by the expedition's end.

What should I do now?

According to his RIG's database, there were many activities and groups aboard – book clubs, video game hobbyists, even SUN Cola aficionados. Unfortunately, most of those didn't have their first meetings for several days. Though a book club would be nice. Not many people had ever read a physical novel with holographic technology being ubiquitous, but he generally preferred them. Worth considering, at least.

The Z-Ball court was surely stuffed, so no on that. Really, he was still interested in exploring more of the ship; after all, that was one of his main reasons for being there. And a specific deck weighed heavily on his mind. Mining.

He'd literally dreamed of the Ishimura's mining facilities, getting to bounce asteroids across a room the size of a football stadium. A little peek wouldn't hurt, and it would be a good opportunity to get familiar with his new equipment. That settled it.

Taking a final glance out the windows, he started moving toward the tram station. Along the way, he passed several cliques of people chatting or making plans. Good for them. Well, six months was a long time; he was sure he'd make some new friends whether he wanted to or not. Probably good – hopping from one quick job to another, he never developed much of a social life. The only people he knew well were from church.

The station was livelier by then, with many of his crewmates off to one location or another. Luckily, the tram arrived soon after, with just enough room for everybody to squeeze aboard. Seven stops to go… joy. At least the trip back would be quick.

The tram sped along, coming to preprogrammed halts at every station, though nobody entered or exited at most. By the time it reached the Flight Deck, Curtis started to sweat from the heat of three dozen people pressed against him. As he suspected, though, everyone else filed off. Ah, that's nice.

He hopped off at the next terminal, pausing to watch the trolley zoom away, sucking some of the gray fumes that filled the tunnel along with it. Deep below, he felt the faint rumbling of a million mineral processors, conveyor belts and engines.

The whole area was eerie, almost like a haunted house. All it needed was somebody dressed as the Clogger to jump out and scare people. He chuckled at his own imagination before realizing Halloween was approaching. Think about making a costume. Right.

Walking down the hall, he quickly came to a door, far larger than any he'd yet seen – Mining Ops. Beyond, he could practically smell the shiny toys he'd be playing with for the next several months. Putting his hand on the blue hologram, it opened, not disappointing in the slightest. A sprawling room greeted him, barracks for the hundreds-strong legion of miners, packed with the latest technology.

Most people couldn't have cared less, but as someone who made a living on the spoils of space rocks, Curtis was eager to start cracking some open. He meandered through the labyrinth of crates and lockers, all smelling of faded chemicals, before something caught his attention.

An equipment rack sat against the wall, sporting examples of prominent tools. He picked up a C99 Supercollider – or "Contact Beam", as it was colloquially known, and inspected it. Clean, oiled, relatively lightweight. The CEC knows how to get the best, I'll give them that.

He looked around a bit more, but the most interesting thing he found was an enormous lift barred by a metal grate, undoubtedly the main connection between subdecks. Even if it weren't locked, investigating any other area unprotected would have been lethal. Between vacuums, heavy machinery and deadly radiation, venturing beyond the safe zone without a proper RIG had killed more than a few.

Where is my RIG, anyway? Probably in one of the thousand cabinets surrounding him, but he hadn't been forwarded the number or combination. There would be plenty of time to get acquainted with his new outfit when the time came. For the moment, he deserved a chance to relax before the real work began.

On his way out, another equipment rack near the entrance caught his eye. Curiosity getting the better of him, he stepped over to find a similar collection of mining tools, these ones tending to be a bit smaller. He grabbed a Model 211-V, or "Plasma Cutter," from the frame, feeling pleasantly familiar in his hands. Aiming down the tool's sights, he tried to flip it, which sent it clattering to the floor.

Despite the obvious lack of people, Curtis whipped his head around just to make sure no one saw that embarrassment. Letting out a sigh, he hung the Cutter back up and thanked God it wasn't loaded. That could've blasted my foot off.

"Hey! Who the Hell is in there?!"

Aw shit.

The door opened, and a grizzled man about a decade his senior stepped in, looking very annoyed. "What's going on?" he barked at Curtis, one hand uncomfortably close to a Divet pistol on his belt.

"Well, I – I wanted to look around the ship," Curtis began, the fear that he might be arrested hanging in the back of his mind. "So I came down here, and I was admiring this Cutter… and I dropped it." The man, clearly part of P.C.S.I. Security, did not appear amused.

After a moment, he replied, "You're a miner, I take it."

"Yes, sir. Class Five."

Not responding, the man touched part of his RIG, and a small holo-screen popped up on his wrist. "Vincent, this is Sergeant Gabe Weller. I caught someone snooping around Mining – genetics mark him as 'Mahoney, C.' What do you want me to do with him?"

A shiver went down his spine while his hands began to twitch. Damn it, why didn't someone tell him this was illegal?!

"Really, Weller? This crap again?" a female voice spoke from the other end of the communicator. "If he wasn't doing anything illegal, leave him alone. We have enough to deal with right now."

"Understood, Chief." The screen faded, leaving the two of them alone. "Look, you're not technically supposed to be down here for a few more days. How about you come back when everything's ready?"

Though bothered by the Weller's attitude, he knew better than to argue with security, especially someone so highly-ranked. "I'll see myself out." The sergeant gave a curt nod and left the way he came.

"Such friendly people," Curtis muttered. Bending over, he picked up the Cutter and put it back where it came from. Still feeling the rumble of a million engines beneath him, he reluctantly exited the room.

Curtis originally worried he'd have trouble finding the auditorium, but that quickly turned out to be a non-issue. Instead he concentrated on finding a seat. Hundreds of men and women crowded around him, all chattering about the months ahead. Squeezing his way through the throng, he spied two unclaimed seats on the end, promptly taking one. He placed his hymnal on his lap for safekeeping before leaning back, ready for the main event.

"Excuse me," a voice said over the crowd. Looking to his left, he saw a balding man with a bushy beard staring intently at him. "Is this seat taken?" he asked, pointing to the empty chair next to him.

"No."

The man sat next to him, moving his fierce stare around the room like a foraging wolf. Curtis couldn't explain why, but something about him seemed on edge. Whatever, he could easily ignore –

"That's a Second Edition Hymnal with gilded edges," the man commented, looking at the book. "You have very good taste."

"Thanks," he replied, warming up a little. No one had ever complimented his propriety before. "Do you have one?"

"Indeed, though I myself prefer the Sixth Edition; that was the sole printing with large excerpts in the Marker's sacred script." He paused, appearing to consider whether he should hold his tongue. "I happen to be privy to the Captain's announcement. Convergence is coming, brother."

And Curtis was back to being creeped out. "OK," was all he could think to say. The man looked at him for a second more before pulling striking up a conversation with someone else. Convergence, huh? It was often discussed in sermons and the sacred texts, but only as a distant event, possibly even metaphorical. Most Unitologists, including himself, were more interested in living unselfish lives than things that probably wouldn't happen for hundreds of years.

Therefore, telling somebody "convergence is coming" was sort of like saying the sun would eventually die. Correct, but still odd and a bit frightening.

Suddenly, the lights died down and the voices with them. Seconds passed in the dim auditorium, which was getting fuller by the minute. Then holograms of the Marker sprang up along the walls, illuminating the chamber with a soft, cozy glow.

"Please rise to greet one another in fellowship," a formless voice spoke.

He didn't need to be told twice. After some mingling with his crewmates, Curtis walked over to the eerie man, intent on at least introducing himself. It was very immature of him to be unnerved by someone he didn't even know, so he decided to fix that. "I'm Curtis, by the way."

"Doctor Challus Mercer. Always a pleasure to meet a fellow believer."

"Likewise." Though the doctor seemed nice enough, Curtis couldn't shake off what he said – 'convergence is coming'. It was probably silly, but something in his voice made the words almost sound like a threat.

The nebulous voice appeared again. "Be seated as we give thanks to the Marker."

From there, the ceremony was standard, if crowded and plagued by the ship's AI announcing their ETA every few minutes. First came a quick prayer, followed by a couple of hymns, until finally reaching the main service. Truthfully, Curtis wasn't paying too much attention, as the constant updates reminded him that they'd de-shock in less than half an hour. The anticipation of seeing an untouched part of the universe built within him, drowning out everything else.

Leg shaking, he half-listened to the sermon – something basic about unity in the face of adversity that was more for potential converts than anyone else – before they were all reminded via amorphous speaker about the Captain's "special announcement". That's right. He'd forgotten it completely; probably some words of encouragement for the months ahead.

Polite clapping went up as a tall man with fading patches of facial hair took the stage. He imagined the Captain would be younger for such a strenuous mission.

"It gives me great pride," the Captain said, nearly shouted, "that there are so many believers among the Ishimura's fine crew." A few cheers went up, but he waved them away. "Faith is a difficult thing, after all – trusting in something you can't see. In our case, that's the Marker. I'm sure that each of you knows someone who thinks you're crazy for those ideas."

Where's he going with this?

After a long pause, he began to speak again, a smug look on his face. In the corner of his eye, Curtis could see Dr. Mercer had one as well. Convergence is coming.

"But no longer. Soon – very soon – Unitology will cease to be faith and begin to be fact!" A murmuring spread through the crowd, wondering if the Captain had something important to say or drank a little too much. "Brothers and sisters, we've found it." Wildness burned in his eyes, and Curtis shivered.

"We've found a Marker!" Before anyone could react, an enormous image sprang up behind him: gray rocks and mountains against a gloomy orange sky. In the middle was a shape, a shape that any of those present could have recognized in their sleep: a rust-colored Marker.

He had never heard such silence. What could one even say? An eternity seemed to pass, with hundreds of eyes locked onto a single image capable of changing the course of human history.

"We are de-shocking in just ten minutes, ladies and gentlemen! Please consult your RIGs for more information."

The room exploded into chaos. People jumped for joy, threw themselves onto the floor, hugged, kissed, screamed, cheered and gave thanks to God. Convergence is coming.

Despite the deafening sounds of ecstasy all around him, Curtis felt distant and numb. This was really happening. The salvation he'd believed in for years was mere minutes away. He should have joined with the others in celebration, but all he felt was a dull fear that nothing would be the same again. Oddly, the only other person who seemed to share this attitude sat right next to him.

"I wish we could be like them," Mercer shouted over the din, "in the throes of righteous bliss! That's something I've never be able to truly experience!" Curtis wanted to respond, but he was mute with awe.

As if moved by an invisible hand, the throng suddenly swarmed toward the exit, no doubt wanting to be the first to look upon the planet that would usher in a new Golden Age for humanity. Shakily picking up his hymnal, he noticed Mercer had disappeared.

He joined his fellow believers as they pushed down the hall and toward any windows they could find, still a roaring typhoon. With the amount of noise they were making, the entire ship would know what happened by the time they de-shocked. Bounced around like a pinball within the roaring crowd, a strange feeling began to fill him. It wasn't like anything he'd ever experienced, a mixture of triumph and anxiety. He didn't know what the future held, but decided to join the celebration for at least a little while.

The crowd petered out after a few minutes, people either going to larger viewing areas or rushing off to tell their friends the news. Curtis found himself a reasonably sized window in an out-of-the-way alcove, with only a few other people standing around, eagerly chattering about the Marker.

"I heard it'll let us crush our enemies!" one woman cheerfully exclaimed.

"I heard we'll be able to destroy EarthGov with its help!" another man chimed in.

Curtis softly sighed as he leaned against the wall. There were many so-called Unitologists who had never set foot in a religious building or read any of Michael Altman's writings. It disappointed him, but he supposed it was better than them not believing at all. I sound like a hypocrite. Nobody's perfect. Still, he couldn't help but feel that Unitologists enthusiastically calling for the government's annihilation reflected badly on the entire Church.

"Let's not get carried away," a familiar voice said to his right. Looking over, he saw the large man who directed him to Medical just hours before. "We don't know what the Marker will do, but I believe it will be above caring about petty politics or revenge." Most ignored him, continuing to talk amongst themselves, and he slowly shook his head.

"Thanks for helping me out earlier," Curtis said while walking over. He really did feel bad about brushing off his assistance, so it was lucky they ran into each other again.

"I'm sorry, do I know you?" he asked, looking a bit confused.

"You told me to hold onto something. I didn't and this happened." Curtis pointed to the cut on his forehead, which was completely scabbed over by that point.

After a moment of contemplation, he replied, "I remember now." A smirk crossed his face. "It was rather amusing, if you don't mind me saying so. Everyone should know proper shocking protocol. As for the help… it's what any good Unitologist would do." He raised his voice slightly during the last sentence, but it had no effect on the group next to them. "Also, I'm Samuel Irons."

"Curtis Mahoney." They shook hands, and Curtis winced after feeling Irons' crushing grip.

"Sorry about that," he said. "Sometimes I forget my strength." The ship began to violently rumble. "Don't worry, that's normal. It means we're de-shocking."

Learning from his mistake, Curtis quickly braced the wall. Outside the window, the mesmerizing blue-green bubble of light evaporated, presenting a much more mundane view, though one that was appealing in its own way. The shaking slowly subsided as he took in the view. Two suns burned thousands of miles away, illuminating a dull gray planet, completely barren except for a large ring of light on its dark side. That must be the colony – it's surrounding the first chunk of the Aegis VII we'll mine.

"Hello, ladies and gentlemen," someone said over the intercom. "This is Captain Mathius speaking. By now I'm sure you've all heard the rumors, and I'll confirm them. On this planet, Aegis VII, a Marker has been discovered. We'll soon bring it aboard." Curtis could hear cheers and shouts echoing down the long, metal halls, which made him crack a smile.

After a pause, he continued. "This is about more than that, however. Even without such a historic find, Aegis is one of the most mineral-rich planets we've ever discovered. The resources gained from this mission could sate humanity for years. I know that each of you will do your part to make sure the Ishimura returns to Earth with a full cargo hold. Now get some rest! There's only five days left until we pop the cork."

That was a Hell of a speech! Curtis had never been so proud to be a miner; everyone he knew told him it was a dead-end job, that even if he wasn't smart enough to get through college, he could find something better. Not only would he be among the first to behold the Marker, he'd also help the entire human race in the process. "Ready to start working, Irons?" he teased.

"I'd like to begin now. The sooner we can return the holy relic to Earth, the better."

Gazing down upon the planet, Curtis knew exciting things would happen on the ship very, very soon.

Slowly awakening, Curtis' vision sloshed around as he tried to remember what was happening. I was trying to get somewhere… the Crew Deck. And the monsters were chasing me. He froze as visions of them came flooding back: flayed, twisted creatures with massive claws and misshapen bodies. He jolted upright, the rest of the memories returning. Straining his eyes, he looked up and down the hall, still lit by dim, flashing emergency lights. None of them in sight. It must have been so dark that when he fell, they ran right past him.

Glancing over to his left, he saw the elevator about fifty feet away. Between him and his goal were about a dozen large, lumpy shapes lying on the ground. With such little light, he couldn't tell whether they were pieces of luggage or human limbs, and he didn't intend to take a closer look.

Preparing himself, he stood up and began walking. Just a few more feet. His boots clanged on the metal floor no matter how lightly he stepped. He breathed a sigh of relief as he reached the elevator. About to press the button for it to come, the familiar slapping of flesh on metal made him lock up. On instinct, he dropped to the ground – it had worked before, and these things didn't seem too intelligent.

Yes, one of them slowly rounded the corner, its arms raised in the air, ready to strike at any moment. An eternity seemed to pass as it approached. Curtis felt his heart pounding in his ears as the creature stalked closer. All he could do was pray.

It stopped mere feet from him, raised its deformed head to sniff the foul air, then snarled. Opening his eyes a bit more, he saw one of its legs move toward him. Please… no. As scared as he was, he vowed not to cry. If these things had emotions, he didn't want to give them any perverted joy by begging for his life.

Another step. It bent down, and the smell of rotting flesh reached his nostrils. That's when he realized something. They weren't aliens… they were people! Dead people! In hindsight, it should have been obvious, given how rancid they appeared, but he found aliens more plausible than zombies. Doesn't matter now. They're killers either way. It growled once more as it tentatively poked him with one of its blade-arms, almost like a child playing with a toy.

The monster suddenly withdrew its arm after a distant shriek reverberated down the hall. Forgetting about him, it sprinted off, no doubt eager to join its friends in stabbing someone to death.

Feeling sick, Curtis couldn't even stand up to summon the elevator – he pushed the button sitting down. After several more seconds, the screaming stopped, returning the world back to terrible silence. Whoever that was, they were almost certainly dead. And because of that, I got to live.

Though he promised himself he wouldn't cry, a few tears slipped down his grimy face. None of this made any sense. A few hours prior, things were fine. And now everyone's dead.

The elevator arrived; he crawled in and collapsed. At least things can't be any worse on the Crew Deck.