Chapter 4: Illusion
Myers sat at the large, circular table and stared into space, letting the words and images of the briefing wash over her. She was only partially aware of the other seven soldiers and officers with whom she was sharing the tinted glass board. She could see Commander Clarke pointing and gesturing at the large digital screen that was set into the bare wall of the round briefing room, but none of what the Commander said registered with Myers. She simply rested her chin on clasped hands, and daydreamed about the odd occurrences that had plagued her in the hours since the ship had reached orbit of purgatory. Thinking about it now was like recalling events form the viewpoint of another person, as if her actions had not been her own. But a few little waking dreams were not a problem for the Sergeant, with her condition such things were not unheard of. But what had just transpired in the hallway worried Myers greatly. She had nearly killed her own Commander. But still she would not let go of the mission to Purgatory, no matter how much she knew that she should.
"Sergeant Myers!" the Commanders harsh voice was like a slash of cold water.
"Hmmm? Yes?" Myers said, sluggishly raising her head.
"Sergeant, would you like me to repeat that for you?" Clarke scolded. Myers was now aware of the fourteen other eyes that were now fixed upon her. She did not look back.
"No Commander," Myers said, trying to maintain some dignity, "That won't be necessary."
" Good. Now, where were we?" Clarke asked herself, turning back to the screen that was displaying a false colour image of the metal deposits in the region where they were to set up a base. "So, with any luck, another three ships should be here within the week." Clarke began again. Myers was already slipping back into a day dream. "After the base has been fully fortified," She continued in a dry tone as Myers head started back towards her hands, "we shall be able to remove Sergeant Myers heart so she can watch us eat it before she dies." Myres almost choked on her own breath. She exploded upwards from her chair, the force of her straightening legs sending it screeching across the floor. Clarke turned sharply as the chair collided with the wall.
"Is there a problem Sergeant?" She enquired in the same dry voice as she had been lecturing in. Myers couldn't believe what she was hearing.
"Yes there's a problem!" She gasped, the look of horror still firmly engraved on her face. "What you just said!"
"You have a problem with what I just said?" Clarke asked with a quizzical expression. "Don't you want the Arm to gain a tactical foot hold in this sector?" Myers just stared back at the Commander. Then she became aware of the other warriors in the room. Everyone's attention was fixed on her. Some were aghast, caught totally by surprise by her outburst. Others seemed quite amused at her objection. But what had she just objected to? Frightened and confused Myers began to back away from the table. Panic was threatening to overtake her as her eyes darted between each of the anonymous faces. She reached out behind herself trying to find a corner to back into like a trapped animal, but stumbled on her own toppled chair. Then the whistling returned. Her right hand shot up to her temple.
"Sergeant!" Clarke exclaimed, "Sergeant! Can you hear me?!" Myers could not. The whistling was far worse than before. It had become a horrible, otherworldly shriek. Just as Myers thought she may lose consciousness, the sound subsided. She looked up to see the other officers all on their feet. They to now carried a frightened expression.
"Sergeant," Clarke said, now on the same side o the table as Myers, "Are Yo-o-o-u-u a-a-a-l-l-..." Myers listened in horror as the Commanders voice stretched and warped, and then stopped all together. Then all those with whom she had shared the room turned to dust before her eyes, and their granular remains melted into the air. The room was now empty but for the furniture and the petrified sergeant. The soft yellow light that had bathed the room turned to a cool grey, and the hum of the engines fell silent. Myers began head for the door, but she was finding it hard to move. The temperature in the room was plummeting with every second that passed. Myers fought every frozen joint in her body, and finally reached the door. But it refused to open. She beat upon the jammed portal with opened palms, but it did not yield to her futile attack. It was becoming painful to even touch the cold metal. But just as Myers was about to surrender to her monochromatic prison, a sound caught her attention. There was an intermittent fizzing emanating from behind her. The sound was coupled with a second sensation, the feeling of another presence that now accompanied her own. Ceasing her assault on the indifferent door, she turned slowly to face whatever it was that now also occupied the frigid cell. Shivering from the cold and the dread, Myers had to use every ounce of her will to keep from closing her eyes to block out any malevolent apparition that she might behold. She was met with nothing but the same objects that had been there before. She scanned the room with an anguished expression. Still there was nothing.
"Show yourself, damn it." She rasped, her breath crystallising in the icy atmosphere. It was then that she isolated the source of the sound. The screen that had shown the image of the metal deposits was now alive with static. Black streaks chased each other the crackling snow of interference. Suddenly, the screen turned black, plunging the room back into a forbidding silence. Myers paced cautiously towards the dead display, the rubber sole of her boots pealing away from the glacial deck plates with each laboured step. As she reached the console something began to appear on the screen, a familiar sight emerging from the darkness. The image of Purgatory. The look of fright that had adorned the visage of the sergeant turned to one of chilling intrigue. The moon occupied the upper half of the display, and as the light of the sun broke across its horizon, a sweeping arch was formed that resembled a hideous grin. Myers reached for the screen, no longer concerned with her bazaar predicament. Once again the strange little world had cast its spell over her. But before her frozen fingers could make contact with , it was gone. She gave a short gasp of surprise, forming a tiny cloud of vapour that billowed and dissolved into nothingness. Myers gazed bemused at the screen, but as she did so, something else in the room changed. The air turned bitter in her mouth. Myers began to cough and wheeze violently, and within moments it was as if her lungs were on fire. Consumed by the agony, Myers slumped against the wall and slid to the ground. Then, the whistling resumed...
"Sergeant!" Clarke barked, "Sergeant, can you hear me!" The commander was crouched over the stricken sergeant Myers, who lay on the ground twitching violently. The rest of the officers were stood back from the scene awaiting the arrival of the medics. They were all dumb struck. Even the most experienced of them had never seen a soldier succumb to such an episode. Neither had the Commander, and the sight of Myers squirming helplessly on the briefing room floor was one that frightened even her.
Myers sat at the large, circular table and stared into space, letting the words and images of the briefing wash over her. She was only partially aware of the other seven soldiers and officers with whom she was sharing the tinted glass board. She could see Commander Clarke pointing and gesturing at the large digital screen that was set into the bare wall of the round briefing room, but none of what the Commander said registered with Myers. She simply rested her chin on clasped hands, and daydreamed about the odd occurrences that had plagued her in the hours since the ship had reached orbit of purgatory. Thinking about it now was like recalling events form the viewpoint of another person, as if her actions had not been her own. But a few little waking dreams were not a problem for the Sergeant, with her condition such things were not unheard of. But what had just transpired in the hallway worried Myers greatly. She had nearly killed her own Commander. But still she would not let go of the mission to Purgatory, no matter how much she knew that she should.
"Sergeant Myers!" the Commanders harsh voice was like a slash of cold water.
"Hmmm? Yes?" Myers said, sluggishly raising her head.
"Sergeant, would you like me to repeat that for you?" Clarke scolded. Myers was now aware of the fourteen other eyes that were now fixed upon her. She did not look back.
"No Commander," Myers said, trying to maintain some dignity, "That won't be necessary."
" Good. Now, where were we?" Clarke asked herself, turning back to the screen that was displaying a false colour image of the metal deposits in the region where they were to set up a base. "So, with any luck, another three ships should be here within the week." Clarke began again. Myers was already slipping back into a day dream. "After the base has been fully fortified," She continued in a dry tone as Myers head started back towards her hands, "we shall be able to remove Sergeant Myers heart so she can watch us eat it before she dies." Myres almost choked on her own breath. She exploded upwards from her chair, the force of her straightening legs sending it screeching across the floor. Clarke turned sharply as the chair collided with the wall.
"Is there a problem Sergeant?" She enquired in the same dry voice as she had been lecturing in. Myers couldn't believe what she was hearing.
"Yes there's a problem!" She gasped, the look of horror still firmly engraved on her face. "What you just said!"
"You have a problem with what I just said?" Clarke asked with a quizzical expression. "Don't you want the Arm to gain a tactical foot hold in this sector?" Myers just stared back at the Commander. Then she became aware of the other warriors in the room. Everyone's attention was fixed on her. Some were aghast, caught totally by surprise by her outburst. Others seemed quite amused at her objection. But what had she just objected to? Frightened and confused Myers began to back away from the table. Panic was threatening to overtake her as her eyes darted between each of the anonymous faces. She reached out behind herself trying to find a corner to back into like a trapped animal, but stumbled on her own toppled chair. Then the whistling returned. Her right hand shot up to her temple.
"Sergeant!" Clarke exclaimed, "Sergeant! Can you hear me?!" Myers could not. The whistling was far worse than before. It had become a horrible, otherworldly shriek. Just as Myers thought she may lose consciousness, the sound subsided. She looked up to see the other officers all on their feet. They to now carried a frightened expression.
"Sergeant," Clarke said, now on the same side o the table as Myers, "Are Yo-o-o-u-u a-a-a-l-l-..." Myers listened in horror as the Commanders voice stretched and warped, and then stopped all together. Then all those with whom she had shared the room turned to dust before her eyes, and their granular remains melted into the air. The room was now empty but for the furniture and the petrified sergeant. The soft yellow light that had bathed the room turned to a cool grey, and the hum of the engines fell silent. Myers began head for the door, but she was finding it hard to move. The temperature in the room was plummeting with every second that passed. Myers fought every frozen joint in her body, and finally reached the door. But it refused to open. She beat upon the jammed portal with opened palms, but it did not yield to her futile attack. It was becoming painful to even touch the cold metal. But just as Myers was about to surrender to her monochromatic prison, a sound caught her attention. There was an intermittent fizzing emanating from behind her. The sound was coupled with a second sensation, the feeling of another presence that now accompanied her own. Ceasing her assault on the indifferent door, she turned slowly to face whatever it was that now also occupied the frigid cell. Shivering from the cold and the dread, Myers had to use every ounce of her will to keep from closing her eyes to block out any malevolent apparition that she might behold. She was met with nothing but the same objects that had been there before. She scanned the room with an anguished expression. Still there was nothing.
"Show yourself, damn it." She rasped, her breath crystallising in the icy atmosphere. It was then that she isolated the source of the sound. The screen that had shown the image of the metal deposits was now alive with static. Black streaks chased each other the crackling snow of interference. Suddenly, the screen turned black, plunging the room back into a forbidding silence. Myers paced cautiously towards the dead display, the rubber sole of her boots pealing away from the glacial deck plates with each laboured step. As she reached the console something began to appear on the screen, a familiar sight emerging from the darkness. The image of Purgatory. The look of fright that had adorned the visage of the sergeant turned to one of chilling intrigue. The moon occupied the upper half of the display, and as the light of the sun broke across its horizon, a sweeping arch was formed that resembled a hideous grin. Myers reached for the screen, no longer concerned with her bazaar predicament. Once again the strange little world had cast its spell over her. But before her frozen fingers could make contact with , it was gone. She gave a short gasp of surprise, forming a tiny cloud of vapour that billowed and dissolved into nothingness. Myers gazed bemused at the screen, but as she did so, something else in the room changed. The air turned bitter in her mouth. Myers began to cough and wheeze violently, and within moments it was as if her lungs were on fire. Consumed by the agony, Myers slumped against the wall and slid to the ground. Then, the whistling resumed...
"Sergeant!" Clarke barked, "Sergeant, can you hear me!" The commander was crouched over the stricken sergeant Myers, who lay on the ground twitching violently. The rest of the officers were stood back from the scene awaiting the arrival of the medics. They were all dumb struck. Even the most experienced of them had never seen a soldier succumb to such an episode. Neither had the Commander, and the sight of Myers squirming helplessly on the briefing room floor was one that frightened even her.