Metroid: Into the Black Abyss

Two: White Crystal

SR-571 was an average-sized planet. For this reason, it had several moons and sometimes other satellites would enter its orbit for days, weeks, or months on end, before careening back into the black embrace of deep space. And although SR-571 was not unlike Earth in the composition of its atmosphere, all similarities to the home planet of the human race ended there.

Earth was a stable planet with a surface mostly covered by water. A given region in SR-571 barely went a week without being ravaged by earthquakes, and while there was water on the surface of the planet, it existed in such insignificant amounts that whatever life existed on the surface had to rely almost exclusively on precipitation to quench thirst.

Below the surface of SR-571, however, things got even more interesting.

Life, it seemed, found a way to survive and even thrive through tectonic disasters that would have annihilated any human-like civilization within decades. There was bacterial life in abundance, and according to some observations made by the first GF research team to get its boots on the ground, there was also evidence of plants and animals, potentially even apex predators—although they hadn't encountered anything like that in their studies, not by a long shot.

What was really strange about SR-571's subdermal reality was that gravity, there, was not constant. Not at all. With a near 100% correlation with tectonic shifts and quakes, gravity rose, fell, and sometimes changed polarity, so that the ground became the ceiling became the wall became weightlessness became freefall. Samus's Power Suit allowed her to move freely in water—and indeed acid and lava as well, to an extent—but she wasn't sure how it might react to a non-constant point of gravitational reference.

In other words, she was interested in the coming mission before she had even finished reading about SR-571—to say the very, very least.

However, her mission was nothing particularly out of the ordinary. It was just another protection detail—again, it seemed that she'd be watching the backs of a few scientists to ensure that nothing unpleasant happened to them while they carried out their mission.

But this wouldn't be the first research op on SR-571. Some months ago, a much larger expedition—protected by normal GA security forces, not mercs—had landed on the planet to do the basic research that GA guidelines demanded be done to all newly-discovered planets. They checked the atmosphere, the surface, they did basic research on the various forms of life found in SR-571, and they were just about to pack up and go home when they found something that they called "white crystal".

There was a technical name, of course, but the colloquial one was so unimaginative that Samus almost couldn't be bothered to read on. But she did—and she was glad that she did.

White crystal, it seemed, was a sort of ultradense substance that could only be cut with other white crystal, or else a series of finely-tuned industrial-grade lasers. Testing indicated that it was several orders of magnitude harder than the next best thing, so, of course, the GA was interested in using it as armor for ships, or else in projectile weapons designed to pierce right to the very hearts of their respective targets.

The scientists' mission, it seemed, was to search SR-571 for deposits of white crystal and mark them with beacons. Samus's job was to protect them and assist them in any other ways that she could.

The fee she'd be paid for this mission was well above market rate; Samus assumed that that was because due to the sensitive nature of the assignment, it couldn't have been put out as an open contract, and apart from that, her practical war against X had gone without monetary reward.

Maybe this was the GA's way of saying sorry.

"ETA to entering the orbit of SR-571 eight hours," Adam said suddenly, interrupting Samus's string of thoughts.

"Once there, we'll rendezvous with the research team on the station they sent out here for final briefing, and then we'll prepare to get boots on the ground."

He paused.

"So, get some sleep, Lady," the somewhat mechanized reproduction of Adam's voice said. "You'll be needing it."

Her sleep was not deep, but it was peaceful and dreamless. And it ended precisely when she wanted it to; she'd never used alarm clocks or any other artificial stimulants to get up. She simply awoke when she intended to, and that was as simple and as complicated as it was.

After washing up, Samus returned to the pilot's seat and sat down. Through her HUD, she could see the distant but rapidly growing gray orb that was her eventual destination.

It didn't look too intimidating from space.

"Are the nerds here yet?" Samus asked.

"What's that, Lady?"

"The scientists. What's their ETA?"

"They've been in orbit for the past twenty minutes; it'll take another fifteen for us to catch up with them. And I'd advise you check your slang," Adam chided. "I don't think 'nerds' like being called that."

Samus had to scoff. Like it or not, every scientist she'd ever worked with was nerdy. True, some were less so than others, but all she needed to do to get them to show their true colors was to mention some ancient, obscure television and film series called "Star Trek" or something like that.

On the other hand, scientists were professional, mature, and 100% focused to their missions. They were polite and courteous to her and deferred to her instantly when she told them to get down or be careful, and when they were all off-duty, she didn't have to worry about taking her suit off around them, because they never, ever had the guts to make advances towards her.

Apart from that, they worried about their objectives while she worried about hers. She'd never had any problems with scientists, and she hoped never to change that trend.

Adam's estimate was a little off, thanks to a change in gravitational flux down on SR-571. That was another oddity about the planet that was outside of the scope of this mission to investigate—why did was gravity so variable on the planet and in its vicinity?

The initial research team had postulated that there was a young, very small black hole somewhere below the planet's surface, but much more research was needed to say with certainty what the cause of SR-571's constantly changing gravity was.

No matter. As long as Samus's Gravity Suit was more or less functional on the planet, it didn't matter to her if the ceiling became the floor became the ceiling.

In fact, conditions like this would make her job quite a challenge. And she loved a challenge. She'd never let a scientist under her protection get killed or even seriously injured before, and she'd be damned if she let that change just because of a little weird gravity.

These were the thoughts going through her mind as the GA's miniature research station appeared, gently floating through space not far from the surface of SR-571. The scientists were there, and their equipment and supplies, and all of these things would have to be loaded onto Samus's ship before the mission began. As she understood it, the plan was that her ship would ferry them down to the planet before going back into low orbit. After that, they'd do their research for a few days before heading back up to the research station for a day or two to rest, resupply, and beam their data and conclusions back home, and then the process would repeat itself.

This mission would take at least a few months, and in addition to an initial lump sum, Samus would be getting paid by the hour.

In short, she had every incentive to be as virtuous of a deadly protector as she could.

Samus sensed her ship's main thrusters go offline as the precision instruments that align it with the GA station came online. A dull metallic thunk then announced that the two vessels were linked.

"Keep an eye out for the usual, Adam," Samus said. She reached behind her to do her hair into a ponytail and then began to put her Gravity Suit, shutting her eyes as the familiar golden-yellow light began to envelope her. "Pirates, rogue asteroids, energy storms…"

"Bounty hunters?"

Samus smiled and decided not to answer.

GA scientists did seem to like the color white. Almost every lab Samus had been in through the course of her career had been pure white, oppressively so. She assumed it was so that the subjects of experiments and such would stand out against their plain surroundings, as well as any contaminants in the area.

It seemed that this research vessel was scientific to the core. From the moment she walked into the hallway that had extended to attach to her ship, everything was white.

In moments, Samus was on a deck with several large freight pallets of goods. Some were stocked with food and clean water, and just a few were covered with tarp and marked as "CLASSIFIED".

There wasn't much gear, all in all. Certainly, there wasn't much considering the size and scope of the mission, as well as how many personnel would be on the ground in addition to her.

Come to that, Samus realized that she didn't know, exactly, how many personnel would be on the ground apart from her.

And that was when he walked in.

What struck Samus about him was… nothing at all. He was of perfectly average dimensions for a scientist—perhaps six feet tall, tops, and slim, with just enough muscle to suggest that he kept himself fit without becoming obsessed with personal image—and his light brown hair and almost chalky complexion suggested that he didn't see much natural light.

A GA-issue labcoat, trousers, and boots completed the generic look of a hands-on researcher. Glasses and a goatee, plus rather normal facial features, suggested that he was twenty five, maybe thirty years old.

And there was only one of him.

Beneath the tinted visor of her helmet, Samus felt her brow furrow.

"Where's the rest of your team?" she asked.

"No," the scientist answered ambiguously. He only continued after a pause.

"Your question doesn't apply. There is no one else on this team."

That was odd, Samus thought. A one-man research team, for a project like this? Wasn't that slight understaffing?

"Originally, the plan was to send a much larger team," the man said. "But the dangerous nature of this mission lent itself to execution by a more compact group. Besides," he said, "I won't be doing much research. I'll just be tagging white crystal deposits and trying to stay in one piece."

"You don't need to worry about that," Samus said. "Keeping you in one piece… that's my job."

He nodded at her slowly. And then, approaching her, he extended a hand.

"I'm Chief Warrant Officer Frederick Hayek," he said. "It's nice to meet you, Ms. Aran. I've heard about you before, from colleagues who worked on the BSL."

He paused, then, as if in sad remembrance of his fallen friends. But his face registered no emotion besides vague interest.

"Officer Hayek," Samus replied stiffly, finally shaking his hand. "I hope our mission will be successful."

"You don't need to worry about that," Hayek said. "Making our mission successful… that's my job."

Before Samus could decide if he had a very poor sense of humor or if he was just a jackass, Hayek turned away and proceeded to key codes into the freight pallets, so that within minutes they lifted up off the ground.

"We're behind schedule, and our landing zone may become unstable soon, so we'll do final briefing on the way to groundside," he said. "Please prep your ship for landing… I'll be with you in a few moments."

Force of habit almost made Samus salute. Despite Hayek's age, he had a rather high rank, especially for a scientist. And the way he carried himself made it clear that he was no techie underling, that he'd headed at least one research assignment already aside.

He was, apparently, a very skilled and competent individual. That was good, because he had all the positive personality qualities of a teaspoon.

It was as Hayek had said—he was with Samus in a few moments, after the palettes had been moved onto her ship. He joined her in, sitting down—unbidden—in the copilot's seat with a duffel bag at his side. He carried nothing else, and as he said no words of greeting to her, she said no words of greeting to him.

Adam had already downloaded all relevant data from the main research station, so no time was wasted detaching Samus's ship from the much less mobile structure and setting a course for the planet's surface.

After that, the engines fired up, and they were on their way.

"We'll set up a rudimentary camp not far from the LZ," Hayek said. "It'll be positioned several meters off the ground to protect us from earthquakes or gravitational fluctuations. After that, we'll head out in essential concentric circles for several days, marking large deposits of white crystal as we go along. I've brought a small hovercraft to assist us with transportation and load management. We'll keep a stripped-down instance of Adam onboard."

Hayek paused. He looked at SR-571, for a moment, as they grew increasingly closer to the outer reaches of the atmosphere. Soon, they'd pass through several kilometers of cloud cover, and then they'd be essentially on the ground.

"You'll have to keep your ship in low orbit, rather than on the ground," Hayek said. "Gravitational fluctuation might play Hell with the instruments otherwise. We'll head back up to the research station every few days when we're on the surface, but when we go below, it might be quite some time—several weeks—until we get back."

"We're going below the surface?" Samus replied, somewhat surprised. The potential danger of this mission had just increased by several orders of magnitude.

But Hayek just nodded.

"Indeed," he said. He seemed to notice Samus's concern, because he grinned blankly. "Don't worry," he said. "As long as we stay in areas with relatively high concentrations of white crystal in the rock formation, we should be okay. And besides," he went on, glancing at the formidable weapon on Samus's arm, "if we get into real trouble, surely you can blast us into the clear."

Well, he had a point there.

"We're approaching the surface," Adam announced. "LZ still seems clear; I'll perform one last check of the area before we touch down."

That made Samus realize something.

"Hayek," she said, addressing the man to her side. "You said that we'd put a stripped-down instance of Adam on your hovercraft… two question. What do you mean by that, and how did you know about Adam?"

He didn't answer for a moment, but it wasn't out of rudeness. Rather, it was because he was putting on a suit of armor—certainly, nothing as powerful as Samus's suit, but a state-of-the-art kit regardless. It had a helmet, chest protector, and plates for his limbs and appendages. Once he toggled some setting on the helmet, the visor went from being transparent to being completely opaque so that Samus could no longer see his face.

"The hovercraft doesn't have enough computing power or harddrive space for all of Adam to be with us. So, we're just going to have… the essence of his personality, essentially," he explained. "He won't have any of his memories and some of his cognitive abilities will be limited, but he'll be able to help us in most significant ways. As for how I know about Adam, it's quite simple—I was part of the team who uploaded his mind into a computer after he died."

Hayek adjusted his chest protector so that it fit snugly. He then rapped an armored hand against the thick, metallic surface of the piece, and it didn't budge an inch.

"It was an experimental procedure at the time, and I had just written a few papers on neural imaging. It wasn't as difficult as I'd thought, though," he admitted. Then, he shrugged.

"I suppose military minds aren't very complicated."

Samus elected to not respond to that comment, despite that it was a clear provocation. She had a good idea of what was going on—he was taunting her to get a reaction of some sort, but by denying him that reaction, she'd force him to straighten up and fly right.

Either that, or, sooner or later, he'd go too far, and that'd be the end of his high rank.

"Secure your crash webbing, Samus," Adam said, cold-shouldering Hayek. "We'll be landing in ten, nine, eight…"

Samus sat down and felt the powerful magnets installed into the pilot's seat engage, clamping her suit to the ship itself.

"… seven, six, five…"

Hayek was buckled in now, as well. Apart from that, he seemed to have drawn a rifle of some sort from his duffel bag—a focused energy weapon of some sort which was probably not so very dissimilar to Samus's plasma beam.

"… four, three…"

Samus looked down. The planet rushed up to meet them through a hauntingly white, foggy atmosphere. Beneath that, though, it was all gray.

"…two, one—hold on. Gravity's fluctuating," Adam said with a sudden tone of caution in his voice.

Samus sat up a little straighter. It was hard to be certain, thanks to the relative homogeneity of the planet surface, but it looked like the ground was gently rocking, or swaying—

And then a spike of stone fifty meters in height suddenly jutted out from the ground. Adam managed to wrench the ship out of the way at the last second, but only just.

"You'll have to take manual control," Adam said to Samus. "Gravity changes are making the on-board instrumentation useless."

Samus reached forward and gripped the control wheel of her craft. Immediately, force-feedback alerted her that the gravity was rising and falling as if in a sinusoidal matter—yet it did so irregularly, unpredictably, so that within a few seconds Samus was reduced to pulling up and circling, lazily, about a kilometer off of the planet's surface.

Hayek, meanwhile, was as cool as a cucumber. In fact, of all things, he had taken out a small personal computer and seemed to be playing some sort of game.

Maybe scientists weren't quite as serious and professional as Samus had thought.

Either that, or this was all some sort of colossal joke cooked up by the GA.

"LZ should be stable within a few minutes," Hayek said, several moments later. He looked up from his computer and glanced at Samus. "Take us back down."

"Not until it is stable," Samus replied irritably. "I don't want to total my ship, Hayek."

He shrugged. "Suit yourself," he said, "but my guess is that the gravity will be back to normal in five, four, three…"

Samus tuned him out. There was no point in listening to him; after all, he was just a particularly odd, annoying scientist who—

"Gravity levels are normalizing… dropping," Adam announced. "Spikes are minimal, and… we're at steady state again."

Somewhere in the distance, Hayek said "one."

Samus didn't hear it. Samus didn't want to hear it.

(In the next chapter, Samus, Hayek, and Adam will be setting up camp after hitting planetside. We might even see a little action… but only the future will tell. Please review.)