Chapter Three: Ta'ash Na Tartaros

Swann stared at the corpse on the autopsy table in front of him, shaking his head slowly. Campbell shifted the suitcase in hand, and said, "What do you think, sir?"

The subject's body was, for the most part, unharmed. There were no wounds or detectable viral or pathogenic agents. But the man was dead. His mouth was clenched into a snarl, and all the hair on his head had fallen out. His eyes were staring straight ahead beyond the ceiling into infinity but he had no pupils, or irises for that matter. They were just iridescent, white spheres in his head. Swann looked up at the doctor on the other side of the table. "Would you like to explain the case, Doctor?"

"Certainly." the doctor replied, removing his blue surgeon's mask. There was a tray full of tools in front of him. He picked a pair of tweezers off of the tray, and removed the sheet covering the body. "This is Luke Jameson, a scientist who used to work Gateway operations in Delta Sector…"

"The Gateway, Doctor." Swann interrupted. "The council has been informed that the 'Gateway' project was a pioneer into short range teleportation technology. I'd like to you to explain to me what that has to do with this man lying here."

Doctor stood there in silence for a second, but finally said. "All I do is treat the men that Delta sends me. They have not told me why they are here, but only that they have become unable to work. But let me show you something." He walked over to one of the many metallic storage areas that lined the wall of infirmary, and pulled out a PDA. After placing his thumb on the ID scanner, the data assistant beeped and flashed on. Swann watched patiently as he flipped through the files. "I think you're going to find this interesting, sir. This man was admitted for a severe migraine after a Gateway test, and looked fine after I gave him a general analgesic. Well, I made him do a medical log in his PDA before he was supposed to be released. This the audio log of this man before unexpectedly died."

The room was silently, but then the PDA's audio record kicked in, and the sound of the dead man's voice filled the room. "This is the audio log of Scientist Luke Jameson, dated November 18th, 2145. The medical staff is making me do a log since I've checked in on account of a bad headache that I've been suffering since I came back through the Gateway. I thought nothing of the headache until I got too weak to stand, at which point our team director handed me over to the medical department. I'm sure it's nothing, and I hope it will pass soon…I have some work to do on analyzing the creatures we encountered today. End of log."

"He died within the next half hour." the doctor said, putting the PDA down. "The nurse noticed his pupils constricting, and went to get help. By the time we came back, he was dead."

"Any known cause of death?" Swann asked.

The doctor shook his head. "No, but all of our in-patients recently have been through the Gateway…" he shook his head, and looked up. "Only one is still surviving."

"Out of how many?" Swann asked.

"Ten." the doctor said. "I actually count this man among the lucky. The rest…well…they survived for days before going completely insane."

"Is the one still alive in good shape?" Swann asked.

"By all physical means, he is stable. But he is gone mentally." the doctor said. "I don't know what the hell happened to these men, but they won't tell me. They never tell me anything anymore. Not since Betrugger brought in more scientists and Marines for Gateway experiments."

"Can we see the man?" Swann asked, removing his sunglasses and sticking them in his lapel pocket. "I'd like to make a log of this."

The doctor nodded. "We have a psychologist analyzing him right. It won't do any good, but it's all we can do."

They walked away from the autopsy table and towards a sliding glass door the opposite side of the room. The door opened as they approached, and they walked out into a hallway marked: "INTENSIVE CARE FACILITY". It was very dark, and the only light came from the tiny windows on the thick, metal doors. Swann looked in them as he passed. All of the rooms were empty but he saw that some of them were bloodstained, and many of their flashing panels read: "SUBJECT DECEASED."

Campbell tapped Swann on the shoulder. Swann turned to him, and said, "Betrugger's fatality reports are inconsistent with what he told the council."

"He was only counting civilian deaths." Campbell said. "The sneaky bastard." Swann was about to reply, but then he heard loud sobbing. It was a man's voice. Then there was another shriek, dampened by the thick doors.

"He's up ahead." the doctor said. "Michael Sumrall is his name. He used to be a Marine before this happened to him." He stopped at a cell a few doors down, and bid the men look in. Swann approached the window, and stared in.

It was a mess. The padded walls inside were splattered with blood everywhere, and the overhead light had a patch of brown on it. But what disturbed Swann was what was written on the walls in sloppy, hurried writing: "BURN. SUFFER. DIE." The words were smeared haphazardly across the walls over and over and over again, oftentimes hitting a corner abruptly and arching up in a new direction. Then Swann looked at the man himself, who was sitting on the padded outcropping in the wall that served as his bed. His face was completely red with blood, and his whole body was trembling violently. His eyes were darting around and looking in every direction at a speed Swann could not keep up with. There were dark circles under his eyes that were visible even through the layer of red on his face, and thin stream of saliva steadily flowed from the corner of his mouth and onto his also bloodstained straitjacket. His hair was gone, and so was the color in his irises. Another man was standing in the cell, wearing a soft blue jacket. The man calmly folded his hands, and held a small recording device to his mouth. "This is day two of my talks with Michael Sumrall. After short round of panic on his part, I am now proceeding." Swann heard the man say on the room's external speakers. He watched the man walked over to the patient, and said, "Now, Mike. Tell me what you see."

"I DON'T WANT TO SEE ANYMORE!" the man screamed hoarsely, his eyes rolling back into his head. "I WANT TO SEE IT! I DON'T WANT TO FEEL IT!"

"Mike, I'm here to help you." the man said. "You need to calm down."

"It's coming…" the patient said, his features suddenly relaxing and his voice getting strangely calm. "It's coming for you. It's coming for me. And when it comes, then you'll see it. You'll see it, and it will see you. The darkness sees everything. And when it sees you, you can't help but feel it. It will feel you and find you and find and see you."

"Mike, why did you cut yourself and make these writings on the wall. Do they have any meaning? Do they—Mike, listen to me—do they mean…Mike, Mike." But Mike was now breaking down into sobs, leaning over and hiding his head between his legs. "Mike, please—"

"You can't help me!" he sobbed. "You can't help yourself! You can't help anyone because it seeses you! It seeses you and you're all dead. Everyone's dead! Everyone's dead and dead and dead! Oh God, make it go away!" he cried loudly. "Please, make it go away!" And then he started crying so hard that his entire body shook.

The man inside stepped back, put the recorder up to his mouth, and said, "Subject unresponsive. Terminating interview." He looked through the small window at Swann before returning his look to the man, whose sobs were now audible even through the thick doors. Then the man started saying something through his sobs. Softly at first, but steadily getting louder. To Swann, it sounded like, "Toss no tart rose…toss no tart rose…toss no tart rose…"

"What is he saying?" Swann asked, looking at the doctor. The doctor shook his head.

"We don't know for sure, but he's been repeating it ever since he's been admitted here." the doctor said. "They tell me that the Gateway does not usually have this effect on those who go through it…that this only represents a small minority of those who go through it…"

"We'll see about that." said Swann. "Thank you for your time, Doctor. Now what is the quickest way to Delta Sector?"

-

Joel was awakened from his nap when Emily suddenly sat straight up in bed and gasped loudly. His eyes opened, and he rolled over and saw his wife staring straight ahead, her face paling. She slowly put a hand back to steady herself, and put her other hand to her chest to stop her rapid breathing. Joel sat up to, his brow furrowing in concern. What was wrong with her? "Baby, are you okay?" he asked, gently rubbing her back. "Honey?"

She swallowed hard, and shook her head. "I don't know…" she stammered. "I'm sweating and everything…"

"Bad dream?" Joel asked.

She nodded, looking at him. "It…it was so real, Joel. You know those dreams you get sometimes, where when you wake up, you can't go back to sleep because it felt so real…?"

"What was it?" Joel asked.

"I don't know. I was somewhere, and it was dark, and all I know is I was looking for Megan. She was lost and I could hear her voice, but I couldn't find her. And these red lights kept spinning all around me, and kept hearing these voices say, 'Over here.' or 'Please find me.' or 'Look out.' But I couldn't see anyone, and the further I went, I could smell something burning…and then I saw Megan through the darkness. I stooped down to pick her up and she was crying…" Emily took a deep breath. "And then her face suddenly exploded. I could feel the warmth of her blood on my face, Joel…" Tears started welling up in her eyes, and she covered her mouth.

Joel felt a sinking feeling in his gut. Emily never had nightmares, especially not nightmares that could make her cry. He said, "Where did you ever get something like that into your head?"

"…but then something…" she took a deep breath. "Something came out of the stump of her neck…and I tried to scream, but it was a head. It was her head, and it was on fire…its eyes were completely white…a-and it had long, sharp teeth. Joel, you don't understand. I felt the heat of the fire on my face, and then it said something to me…it said, 'Ta'ash na Tartaros.' I didn't hear it say that clearly, but somehow I knew that was what it said. It said something, I remembered it. And then it opened its mouth, and I could see the stump of its neck down it's throat…and then it screamed a loud, shriek…it woke me up…" She then took a deep breath, and kept her tears from spilling over the edges of her eyelids. "I'm not going to be able to go back to sleep, Joel…"

Joel swallowed. "I don't know what to say, Emily. I think we've been apart for too long. I think—"

Emily put a hand to her face, and then she shuddered. Then she interrupted Joel by putting her hand on his cheek. And Joel's heart skipped a beat in his chest. He jerked away as if she had jabbed him with something sharp, and put a hand to his own face. Then she shook her head. "It was so real…" she whispered.

And Joel no longer doubted her. There had been a warm, wet sensation that transferred to him as soon as he'd touched her. And the feeling was not a pleasant one. "What was that?" he asked her.

"What was what?" she asked. "You looked feverish for a second, honey." she said. "Are you feeling alright?"

"I…um…" Joel said. "Yeah, I'm fine. I just thought I…never mind."

-

Steve and Megan walked into the bar that was located on the main living center. The daylight was gone, but the artificial lights around the huge window had snapped on. Most of the tables in bar were empty; most shifts weren't over for another hour. The air in the bar was cold because of the whispering air units that lined the walls, and the only other sound was the TV on the wall that was turned down to a whisper. The only person in the bar was a brown haired, chubby fellow cleaning a glass the old fashioned way with a white rag. His eyebrows perked up as the automatic doors slid open, and the two entered. Immediately the bartender stood up behind the counter, and said, "Steve?"

"Ronnie." Steve replied. "I want you to meet a friend of mine." He watched the man's surprised reaction when set down the glass and bent over the counter. He squinted at Megan, and then looked at Steve.

"Who is this?"

"Joel's daughter, son." Steve replied. "You know Joel?"

"I'll be da—um darned." Ronnie said, catching himself after Steve sent him a sharp stare. "So the request went through?"

"That's right." Steve said, looking at her. "And I'm her buddy till mom and dad are done catching up on things."

"The UAC actually did something decent for its employees? They must be getting desperate after what happened just recently." Ronnie replied. "So…what I can I do for you two tonight, today, whatever. The time on this planet is so messed up."

"How about two chocolate milks?" Steve said. "Lord knows you ain't served one of them in a long while."

"No booze? Good choice, my friend. A lot of the guys are having their drinks flat nowadays so they won't be outta whack when their shift comes around. You heard about what happened to Lucas, right?" Ronnie asked, momentarily disappearing under the counter. "Sad story. I'm sure Staff Sergeant Eland has already filled you in on that, though."

"M-hm." Steve said, walking towards the counter. He looked down at Megan again. "Want to sit up here with me, miss?"

She nodded enthusiastically, and he lifted her up onto one of the stools to sit at the counter. Ronnie smiled at her. "Hey, there. What's your name?"

"Megan!" she said, putting her hands on the counter.

"Well, ma'am. How would you—"

-

"Joel, did you hear that?" Emily asked, sitting up.

"Hear wha—"

-

"Why isn't my satellite cell working?" Swann asked as he walked down the hallway. "Campbell, let me see your—"

-

And in the instant that followed, all the power in Mars city went down. A satellite orbiting the planet intensified its magnification as it noticed an entire section of Mars' surface disappear as all the lights went out, everywhere in facility. Then it zoomed out again and refocused to capture what happened next. For a brief instant, the far side of the facility gleamed blood red, and the satellite's built-in seismometers suddenly skyrocket as a shockwave that matched the intensity of a hydrogen warhead detonation suddenly exploded from the glowing red point and traveled across the entire facility.

The sun, which had been gleaming proudly from the other side of planet, now slipped from a blinding sliver into a dull glow behind the Red Planet, outlining its figure in the infinite vacuum of space.

And Mars City was plunged into total darkness.