Hey, guys! I managed to get this out before I went back to work. Don't want to spend too much time on pleasantries, since there's something important for me to discuss.
This chapter takes place at an elementary school, and the enemies are kids. Violence against children is one of the few things I want to put a trigger warning on, so please, skip to the end of the chapter if that makes you uncomfortable. Curtis and Nicole have killed infant Necromorphs before, but that felt different, since most of those were created from clone templates that weren't alive in the first place. This could be a lot more upsetting. Especially these days, where school shootings have become commonplace (at least in the United States). I wondered whether this was appropriate for me to write at all, since I'm training to be a teacher, but I eventually decided it was. If I taught elementary school instead of high school, I might feel differently. Also, check out Kafka's The Metamorphosis for a monster story better than this one!
Thanks to CelfwrDderwydd, Kaijucifer and GeorgeP for reviewing since last time. I'll see you guys for the next update, which I'm sure will be less of a downer.
5 Hours Post-Sprawl Outbreak
Curtis slapped a discarded spinal cord he found on the floor to Titan Elementary's door, which quickly trundled open. He appreciated that strangers weren't allowed to waltz into the school. Getting the DNA of someone who worked there negated the problem. The Necromorphs, of course, knew no such boundaries.
They stumbled inside, and he looked at allies old and new. It felt odd to have so many people all fighting for their survival in one place. The last time he traveled with such a group was during his time on the Ishimura with Lexine, Gabe, Nathan, and Eckhardt, that traitorous bastard. Seemed so long ago.
His eyes roved across the walls, which were decorated with colorful, inspiring posters. Little animated girls and boys told him how great math was, to take his nutrient pills, about camping opportunities, and, above all, that EarthGov protected them and their families. It seemed so… quaint. There was even an advertisement for The Metamorphosis production he read about in the news! That was the ancient book Nicole told him about where the protagonist turned into a bug monster… but he was still sympathetic and not a bad guy.
When you put it like that, it's easier to understand why there's a grade school adaptation of it, Nicole thought as she looked at some of the 3rd Grade art projects on display. This was where things took a turn for the strange.
Many were normal: self-portraits, depictions of Saturn, or fantastical images. Not very good – though Nicole wasn't cynical enough to critique the work of small children – but ordinary. Plenty, however, possessed a more disturbing edge. Crudely drawn faces were locked in screams, and images of blades and claws danced along ratty paper. There was nothing obscene or violent about them, which was why they were presented with the others, but it made his stomach churn. The Marker's influence grew in everyone's minds these past few months, but maybe children were more susceptible. There must have been an exponential growth of "imaginary friends" over the semester.
He pushed past and focused on other parts of the décor. It brought Curtis back to simpler times. Not happier ones, for he was miserable throughout his childhood, but at least he didn't have the responsibilities of the world saddled on him. This "kid stuff" bored him to tears; he always tried to be an adult, though he barely knew what that entailed. Still, he was glad he paid enough attention to get into community college.
"This is all sorts of fucked up," Ellie said, gingerly stepping over a mutilated teddy bear.
The juxtaposition of child-friendly aesthetics and the end of the world hypnotized them all. It was difficult not to imagine what could have been different. Curtis' blood heated to a low boil as he read the names of the honor roll students. Their lives were taken for no good reason. Was it EarthGov's fault? The Necromorphs'?
Wait. Nicole stopped mid-step in the hallway she and Curtis walked down while the rest remained in the foyer. Through her, he felt a tickle in his mind. Realized that she'd been distracted enough to not scan for undead in the building. Six eyes went wide. They leapt out of the way as the ceiling above them detonated. His ears rattled as he hit the floor.
Crawlers in the vents tried to suicide bomb them, and it was only through quick action and luck that they emerged unscathed. The pre-school must have been here, too.
"Are you all right?" Ellie asked from behind the wall of debris that formed from the collapsed ceiling.
"Yeah, we're fine," Curtis replied, grunting as he stood. He tried to move the debris with kinesis, but many electrical systems fried, resulting in a mess of smoking scrap. Moreover, the big chunks remained embedded in the structure, which made them difficult to move. Even with Isaac helping from the other end, they didn't have time when whole armies hunted for them!
The school served tens of thousands of kids (probably should have been more than one location for a city of millions). This couldn't have been the only way forward. Nicole exclaimed, "There must be multiple routes to the front. We'll meet you there, OK?"
"Sounds good," Isaac said. The others could handle themselves for a little while. "Just… be careful." She nodded, despite the engineer being unable to see her. They marched deeper into the building, both brimming with trepidation about what they'd find.
This was the last place Curtis wanted to be. He'd much rather hang out in the Church of Unitology cathedral or a deep, dark mine. Hell, he'd take another round with the alien! Horrible notions of what they'd find filled his brain, though he wasn't sure if they originated from him or Nicole. Still, he didn't need to imagine terrible things, for their surroundings were already bad.
The school's intercoms spat a broken melody that was probably once part of a real song. Now, it was a disparate assortment of notes that almost made his ears bleed. The halls were also a mess, choked ankle deep with debris and Corruption. There was no way to avoid it, so they marched through while feeling it wrap around their feet with each step.
That should have drawn the Necromorphs' ire, yet Nicole detected nothing coming for them except for a few packs of Crawlers. The good news was that the thick layers of elastic meat on the walls and ceiling dampened the explosions into almost being imperceptible. Other zombies could have clawed through, but that was impossible for ones only made to "kill" themselves. The environment worked in their favor for once. Together, though, that meant most of their enemies planned an ambush somewhere ahead.
Several minutes later, they seemed to have made little progress. The homogeneity across locations and grade levels made it feel like they were stuck in place. The drawings on the walls became more demented, with more images of screaming faces poking through the slime. As adults were sometimes compelled to scribble ominous messages for all to see, pre-literate kids must have represented those feelings in pictorial form.
More than being disturbing as Hell, this whole thing was odd for them both. Curtis hated school as a child, and Nicole never really went. Her family and name meant most of her early education came from the best tutors money could buy. Neither possessed fond memories of being the line leader or sitting in a circle for the teacher to read a story.
I suppose that's good…
The corridor ahead was blocked by another slab from the ceiling, so he and Nicole ducked into the first door they saw to get around it. They found themselves in the school nurse's office! Nicole immediately leapt into action, trying to find Somatic Gel, but all the medical supplies were gone. Not particularly surprising, given that most of the cots were soaked in blood. Curtis shuddered, trying not to imagine what the people here endured during the Necromorph siege. What began as a normal day quickly turned into a nightmare.
Googly eyes on posters followed him as they exited that room and continued the parade of horrors. They must have gotten close to the end. What would normally result in relief instead made him queasy. Where the Hell were the Necromorphs?!
They're hiding somewhere, Nicole told him, which made Curtis sigh. Yeah, but it'd be nice to imagine that they were all exterminated through some accident. Perhaps they were infected by whatever prion disease crippled that Slasher, or maybe whatever room they hid in sprung a leak, and they were all sucked into space. He couldn't dismiss these as fantasies, for he no longer knew what was possible. Still not particularly realistic.
I know. Just tried to look on the bright side before everything went down. The miserable slog continued.
Finally, they reached the school auditorium, which also doubled as the gym. Curtis dimly recalled having something similar at his elementary school… and that it was at the front of the building. The Necromorphs must have been inside. Nicole told him that she didn't psychically sense anything with the Corruption in the vicinity, nor could she smell or hear inside.
However, it was the logical place for a trap: little cover, no resources, and an environmental advantage in the form of Corruption. A quick check from Curtis revealed the few other ways around had been barricaded by inhuman hands in ways that made them impossible to penetrate. This was a funnel. They probably set something up for the other three through a similar junction. Nicole poked her head into the vents and crawlspaces, revealing every sneaky route had been clogged with organic gunk.
Curtis saw no clever way for them to escape. Maybe if they had more time or resources, but they possessed practically nothing. The couple dozen shots both scrounged up for their weapons would be laughably insufficient against the forces massed against them. Their Somatic Gel was enough for a few good hits, but it wouldn't last forever. Brute strength was their only path unless that replica Oracle mask or Altman's journal turned out to be effective melee weapons!
Curtis paused for a moment, his tired brain trying to piece together a thought. Kept being distracted by Nicole attempting to hash out a plan by carving up a clear spot of floor. It was a very nice battle map, but this wasn't urban brawl. There would be no referee or coach to call a timeout.
What were you saying? Nicole asked, glancing up at him. While she couldn't get tired in the traditional sense, the weight of what was about to happen pressed down on her. She didn't know whether it would be uniquely awful, yet she hyped whatever came next into something catastrophic. What a human thing to do.
Melee weapons. That was his brilliant plan. He didn't have the ammo to use his Line Gun for long, and it'd be better than fighting with his fists! A wrench was the only reason he survived his first encounter with the revenants. Never mind that it wasn't a good idea to get too close to them unless one was exceptionally spry.
It took a bit of digging, but he found something suitable in a janitor's closet: a maintenance jack, similar to the ones that Fodder used a few hours ago. Curtis gave it a few swings to test the balance, and he found it easy enough to control. Even if it wasn't, pure strength would do the trick. He'd discard it at the end of the fight… assuming he was still alive. He didn't have the space on his back to carry another weapon.
He and Nicole looked at each other, neither knowing what to say or think. Maybe they'd have words if they survived the room ahead. They usually assumed that'd happen. Against thousands? He didn't know. Placed a hand on the door, which loudly whirred.
A couple more shredded fliers for The Metamorphosis taped to it let him know what play was supposed to be performed. Curtis couldn't think of a more fitting backdrop as the door squealed open.
5 Hours, 15 Minutes Post-Sprawl Outbreak
Nicole was surprised to find that they didn't enter the auditorium proper, but a dark, dry alcove painted entirely black. They were backstage. She expected to be greeted by an army. Instead, it was nothing but props and dark curtains. Those thin barriers separated them from the ravenous horde.
She felt them now. Like others of her kind, the memories and personalities they used to have were buried under a thick layer of everyone else's. Even so, something unusual was afoot.
Most people who became Necromorphs ended up appreciating it. Much of that was forced upon them, but still – some part of them came to believe they did the living a favor by killing them. These kids couldn't have cared less. Nicole caught snippets of memories as they buzzed around the air.
Where are my dads?
Where is Mr. Blake?
Where's Grandma?
They weren't completely lucid about what happened, yet they knew it was wrong, even as their minds melded together. The Marker would whip them into a frenzy, yet it might have a more difficult time doing that than normal. The tension continued to simmer. Perhaps this odd behavior was because of the age they died at. Children were old enough to have memories and thoughts, but not old enough to possess more mature vices. Or maybe being around so many people they knew made them question?
She grasped at straws. Despite being one of the universe's foremost experts on Markers, there was so much she didn't know. What did it matter, anyway?
Showtime, Curtis thought as they got ready to whip the drapes aside and present themselves to the audience.
Before he could, though, something dropped atop their heads. Something big and heavy, with at least six limbs. Whatever it was, she couldn't feel its mind. Glimpses of an insectoid carapace catalyzed a spine-chilling idea: what if this was the alien?!
Their muscles kicked into overdrive. Four arms shoved the monster off in a single movement, which clattered to the floor. However, the sudden jolt threw them off their balance, and they tumbled backward. Fell through the curtains, which were ripped from the rod.
Quite an entrance, Nicole thought. Unlike any she'd ever seen. They sprang up, ready to blast this new (or old) foe to bits to finish the opening act! Then she saw the "creature" in the dim light… and she laughed.
A giant insect splayed on the ground, its open mouth revealing no teeth despite a human face. It would have struck fear into them… if not made of fabric and wire. Curtis began to giggle as well, leaning on her because he became weak in the knees.
Whoever made the Gregor Samsa puppet for The Metamorphosis deserved an award, because it spooked two adults. Seriously impressive work.
Whatever mirth she felt, though, evaporated when she remembered where they were. This was it. She and Curtis turned around to look at their audience. Its members turned out to be everything she feared.
They'd seen infants become Necromorphs, but at least they were partially inoculated by almost all the ones on the Ishimura being made of clones. These ones were real. Hell, them rushing forward reminded Nicole of kids charging for the door once the final bell rang.
Most Necromorphs were obviously not human, though there were some exceptions, such as Fodder and Shamblers. Sadly, these fell into that exclusive category.
They looked like children. The only notable alterations were a few fractured bones poking through the skin and fingers having been reforged into three wicked talons on each hand. Not as large as Nicole's, but evocative of them. Otherwise, they wore the visages of kids. Even their clothes remained intact, probably because their minor alterations hadn't shredded them.
These were the thousands they needed to fight through to reach the barricaded doors at the opposite side of the room. Several Lurkers clung to the walls as artillery, but these things were the main thrust. Curtis felt particularly astonished; he couldn't bring himself to fire.
They're not really kids! Nicole reminded him. He knew that, yet pulling the trigger would still make him queasy. It was entirely possible the Marker kept them looking as human as possible so teachers or parents wouldn't fight back! If a seasoned survivor felt that way, what chance did regular people have? They might have thought these things that used to be their students or offspring could be reasoned with. The "funny" thing was that they may have been right.
These Necromorphs didn't want to fight. She knew from looking within that they went along with it because they were told to. Most children their age listened to authority figures, after all. Nicole gritted her teeth as she stared over the sea of meat. Maybe they could have run. Despite being locked and blocked, the threshold could have been blown open with a couple of overloading power cells. That would have been the smart thing. As it turned out, though, they could be pretty stupid when the right situation arose.
We need to help them, she thought, to which Curtis reluctantly agreed. Now he fired into the crowd; one shot beheaded three Necromorphs. Aiding them meant ripping these children limb from limb. Plenty of people were trapped within their own bodies, but these kids most of all. If Convergence came, they would be sealed this way until the end of time. None of them wanted that. They became the eternal monsters under the bed. They would forever be Gregor Samsa.
As she jumped into the fray, part of Nicole wondered if it might be possible to tear these kids free from the Marker's grasp as she had been. It took a lot of work under precise circumstances that likely couldn't be replicated. Besides, most of them wanted to be with their parents or guardians… Wouldn't that be something, though?
Guess it would, Curtis replied as members of this pack climbed atop each other to mount the stage. His ammo mostly spent and the range having shifted, he pulled out the maintenance jack.
Meanwhile, she dashed around the room, trying to pick off the Lurkers and Crawlers before they reached him. She hoped they'd clear this room before anything else reached them from outside.
It was a hasty plan. Hell, she shouldn't have called it a "plan" at all. Despite her attempted plotting, there had been too many unknowns to create anything detailed. Didn't even know what pint-sized Necromorphs looked like until a few seconds ago.
She tried to be conservative with her plasma, for little was left. Ripped up Lurkers with her bare claws, and she detonated Crawlers by throwing Lurker barbs at their delicate sacs. They popped like balloons. Curtis had a more difficult time. He swung his weapon back and forth, mowing down monsters like wheat before a scythe. She felt his disgust for what he did, even as he realized it was the right thing.
Most Necromorphs weren't so fragile, but these things broke with a single hit. Nicole suspected the Golden Marker designed them to be "glass cannons", unable to take much damage, but capable of inflicting a significant amount. Wouldn't know without conducting an autopsy, but she suspected virtually all their tissue became muscle. That was normal, but Nicole still possessed enough bone and sinew to move freely.
Meanwhile, she saw through her husband's eyes that one chop bisected them at the waist. That implied a lack of connective tissue, which made them crumble if any stress was put upon their bodies. Their small statures couldn't have helped; there was only so much biomass to utilize in the first place. The few that managed to hit him, though, tore out small chunks of his flesh through his RIG. If they wanted to kill and were a little faster, he'd have been picked clean. Still, his body was pumped full of Somatic Gel and adrenaline as the corpses piled up.
What were those fish from the South American Sector that could supposedly strip a human to the bone in a few minutes? She didn't know if those were ever real, but it would've been something like that. Only thanks to the reluctance of these children that they stood a chance.
They kept at it, lost in the haze of battle. In the back of her mind, though, she felt a pressure build. The Golden Marker witnessed this, and it was not pleased. That frustration made Nicole fight harder out of pure spite. The foul air burbled with screams and shrieks – not too different from kids being excited. She could close her eyes and pretend this was a fun game… but that wouldn't have made this easier.
The mountain of bodies around Curtis grew to at least 20 feet tall. He stood atop it, cleaving off another head or arm with each passing second. Presently, he kicked one boy in the chest, which sent him tumbling down the hill – and he didn't rise again. Her husband was some kind of fantasy warrior, wielding the maintenance jack as a magical blade against the Dark Lord's mindless army. Had the cool armor and everything.
He looked at her during a brief pause in combat, wondering. She may not have been a huge fan of the genre, yet she was a savvy enough reader to know the tropes!
Almost reached the end. The numbers dwindled to about 100. Then 50. Then a couple dozen. Curtis stood so high on the pile that his head almost touched the ceiling. Finally, they were down to the single digits. The few remaining Necromorphs paused, realizing that their situation was hopeless. The Marker's rage was palpable; one more failure would make it blow up. May as well save these few pawns for a time they had a chance to win.
They tried to run away by dashing into a nearby vent. Nicole drew her Plasma Cutter, suddenly glad she'd stockpiled a little ammo. One shot in the back ended each. The blasts penetrated their stomachs, blowing their insides all over the walls. No dismemberment required when these Necromorphs possessed the tensile strength of wet paper.
The Golden Marker's rage was an erupting volcano. It exploded out as the last body fell. Her knees buckled, and she put her hands to her head as the world shook. Nicole couldn't comprehend the vitriol it spat. Literally could not; whatever words and thoughts it leaked were older than the stars. Not that she wanted to understand. Nor did she want to gloat. It would've been wrong. The Marker may have lost this round, but that didn't mean they felt proud of what they did.
Victory also didn't mean they emerged unscathed.
Curtis slid down the slope of bodies, allowing Nicole to catch him at the end. Seemed mostly OK, though both knew that he'd almost reached his limit on Somatic Gel.
"I'm fine enough to walk," he sighed. Put one foot in front of the other, slowly regaining his footing. She couldn't tell whether his shaking legs were primarily from injury or the grisly task he'd just performed. "It's probably both."
His unsteady steps made him stumble over a body. Nicole told him not to look. Curtis fruitlessly tried to resist the urge. His head was drawn down by a magnetic force to what he'd just wrought. He didn't get a chance to look at them as individuals, instead seeing a sea of dead faces. No longer.
She used to be a little girl, no older than eight or nine. Her pink dress RIG was caked in blood, as were her bleached pigtails. Her single remaining eye stared up, accusing him of murder. That wasn't inaccurate. The Marker killed her, and they finished the job. There was no way for him to help her beyond what he already did. His wife placed a clawed hand on his back to try and comfort him. What else were they supposed to do?
Nicole and Curtis cleared the debris from the doors and entered the rest of the Sprawl. Upon exiting, she turned back to take a final look at the little lives which could have been.
5 Hours, 30 Minutes Post-Sprawl Outbreak
Killing "kids" was as bad as Curtis thought it'd be. Not worse, though. Knew he'd get over it, since destroying them, morbid though it may have been, was the right thing to do. Even if it wasn't, they had no choice. He might've suffered a heart attack if that pack of little predators was his first Necromorph encounter, though.
The Pack. He didn't care about names right now. Felt annoyed at how some part of his brain whipped them up after doing one of the most difficult things of his life.
He and Nicole staggered through the school's front entrance, which resembled the back one, both in terms of décor and destruction. There was a broken cabinet of trophies, which caught his eye. Then again, he didn't consider that impressive, given that this was the sole elementary school on the station, and by far the best funded in the outer solar system. The Heliopause Observer might be able to compete if it weren't orders of magnitude smaller.
His thoughts turned back to what just happened; difficult for them not to when his chest was soaked with cruor and his body throbbed from countless wounds. Innumerable bad things occurred over the last several minutes. Curtis inhaled, smelling his own blood in his nostrils.
Two pieces of good news came out of the bloodbath. First, there was no way they'd run into many more child Necromorphs. They hadn't seen any Pack before the school, so why would there be many after? It was a school day, so most kids on the Sprawl were there. Second, they pissed off the Golden Marker. It may have been slightly different than its "father", but like the Red Marker, it flew into spectacular rages upon its plans being foiled. Angry people got stupid, and that might hold true for Markers. Any mistakes it made would be in their favor.
He normally tried to maintain a positive attitude, no matter the situation. Despite the little good to come out of it, he felt a hole in his spirit bigger than any blade carved. He slammed his fist on the door, wishing it were… he didn't know what he wished it to be. Something acceptable for him to punch.
The door outside sprang open, revealing a street ablaze. Garbage and synthetic fabric spewed toxic fumes into the air. Impressive, since the city was designed to be nonflammable. The fire suppression systems either never deployed or were woefully inadequate to combat the inferno, but at least there was a clear path through the center of the street to walk down. Plus, it kept the Corruption at bay.
Three others sat on the steps, as if waiting for their parents to pick them up. Isaac halfheartedly drew his Plasma Cutter upon hearing the noise, though it was sheathed the moment he saw them. If possible, the trio looked even worse than him and Nicole! They were covered in blood, and parts of their RIGs had been burned black.
"What happened?" Isaac asked. Nolan was still hunched over, muttering nonsense to himself. Curtis thought the things he whispered sounded like actual words, though not any language he'd heard. Then again, English became the global lingua franca centuries ago at EarthGov's behest; the only reason to learn another was to study ancient works or cultures.
"We got ambushed in the auditorium," Nicole answered. "You?"
"The cafeteria." That was probably the only other space suitable for an ambush that size.
"How did you make it?" Curtis inquired, no longer caring what Stross mumbled.
"Would you believe this place uses gas for cooking instead of electricity?" Ellie answered. "Maybe because methane and other hydrocarbons are so common in the Government Sector." Curtis never considered that some of the gasses extracted from the Shard might be used for something so mundane. Also seemed like an awful idea, but maybe it was cheaper for government-run institutions to use resources excavated from their own property. In any case, he understood what she meant: a gas leak plus a burst of the flamethrower equaled a room full of crispy Necromorphs.
He was reminded of that Cherries Jubilee dish Nicole sometimes raved about that included flaming fruit. Call it Necro Flambé.
Absolutely not, she quipped back. It would've been funny if it didn't involve setting kids on fire.
"At least there wasn't anything as bad as the alien," Isaac said, standing up.
"No, but we got ambushed by a scary prop in the gymnasium." Before Isaac could ask, Ellie interjected, looking baffled.
"Wait, wait, wait. Alien?" From her expression, she almost thought it was a joke. Almost. Nothing was impossible for her anymore.
It occurred to Curtis that they'd never mentioned the extraterrestrial. They neglected alluding to details such as stealing the holy book of Unitology or Curtis blasting a giant booger off the station's power core. Hadn't been relevant to the immediate situation, yet they were things Ellie and Nolan might want to hear about. However, distant sounds of anger made them rush to the Transit Hub, which was only two blocks away.
Filled her in on these facts as they hurried, though Curtis' thoughts drifted elsewhere.
I might be more used to living here than the North Carolina Hubs, he thought. Almost too bad. He may have grown up in a dangerous place, but it wasn't all bad. It had been years since he'd been to Earth. In fact, the last time I was there… was right before I boarded the Ishimura. A shuttle picked him up from the local spaceport, and that was the last time he set foot on the blue world. Well, it was browner these days, but his love for it remained the same. Wasn't sure if he'd ever return.
Same, Nicole thought, remembering the final days of her first life. She departed from the savannahs of the Alberta Hubs and joined him on the doomed ship. I don't believe humanity is mystically tied to Earth like some people do, but I'd like to go there again. This came with the caveat that she hoped the Necromorphs weren't swarming across the planet when they arrived.
Ellie had her helmet on when they reached the Transit Hub, so Curtis couldn't tell how she took the news that an alien had recently been on the station. He imagined the gears in her head straining as they tried to compute this. Nolan didn't seem at all fazed, though. The most the story elicited was a disinterested nod. Curtis looked up, taking in the familiar surroundings.
The Transport Hub spanned three floors, all connected with crisscrossing stairs and escalators like a web. Countless holographic advertisements normally attempted to sell products, though one of the few not damaged was one for EA's upcoming Skate game. 500 years and several dozen installments later, people still really liked skateboarding. The Sprawl probably had a skate park, but it was far easier (and safer) to do it virtually. An art piece constructed of metal bars sat in the center. He had no idea what it represented, and he cared even less now that a couple Necromorph bodies had been impaled on it.
"Well, this brings up bad memories," Ellie whispered as they snuck around. "I was working the morning shift at the Wey-Yu facility a few hours ago." Yeah, he saw the entrance from where he stood. She put a finger to her chin. "Wonder if the alien went through there after it and the Necromorphs got here." Possible, since it probably would've crawled through this place on its way to the rest of the station.
Suddenly, the lights turned off. This wasn't anything unusual; systems failed left and right by this point. Almost everyone realized that. Nolan, however, reacted worse than he hoped.
"It's dark. They'll find me in the dark!" he shouted. Curtis cringed, as if his contracting muscles prevented the guy from being heard hundreds of feet away.
"Shut up, we'll be fine," Ellie hissed. Curtis briefly wished the guy had a straitjacket and muzzle on, but he immediately regretted the thought. The poor guy had been tortured for years, probably while wearing both implements. It was cruel to want to put him in the same chains that held him down… even if the racket might lead to their faces being eaten.
Suddenly, though, they had much louder things to worry about.
The screen that previously showed the Skate advertisement erupted to life again, which made Curtis jump as it spat static. Quickly formed into a familiar face, which leered at them from on high. About time the man barged in again.
"Mason. Brennan. Clarke. Stross." Tiedemann named all of them as if he knew them personally. Supposed he did, considering he must have authorized the study of them as "patients". Ellie, however, stumped him. "Person whom I don't recognize." He didn't seem bothered, though; more people than the "special" group of six could survive. "My generals told me it was only a matter of time before you reached the transit hub. You'll find the trains – the ones that aren't flaming slag – totally inoperable." Damn it. Curtis hoped to sneak over without being noticed. "All power to the public sector has been turned off, as well."
That last sentence made all of them squirm, no matter how jaded. Sure, systems fell quickly, but this was a death sentence for everyone.
"Are you insane?! There could be other people alive over here!" Isaac exclaimed.
"The few who haven't already died soon would have with or without life support. We're well beyond recovery parameters at this point." Tiedemann said this with the sorrow of someone who'd forgotten to buy a toothbrush at the store. Still, there was a look of regret in those steely eyes. Wouldn't have noticed it if the man's face weren't so huge on the screen. He'd ruled Titan Station for his entire adult life, and he was at least somewhat popular from what Curtis could tell (though it was impossible to be sure with ubiquitous censorship). "And we can't have any of you escaping. Our work here is… too important."
"Shut the fuck up! We just went through the elementary school, Tiedemann. I don't need to tell you what you let happen to thousands of children!" The sheet malice Curtis exuded surprised everyone, including himself. Rarely did he devolve into a ranting maniac. Tiedemann should have been grateful he was safe in his bunker – otherwise, Curtis would've killed him with his bare hands! His temper was righteous, though. Nothing was off the table after what he'd just done. "Either the Marker's brainwashed you, or you're a complete monster." Maybe both. As he learned from Mercer, those traits were not mutually exclusive.
"Ah, Mr. Mason. You have my genuine thanks for fixing the fusion reactor a few hours ago." So, Tiedemann did realize it was him with Karrie. He exhaled a silent sigh, glad that the director hadn't been able to capture or kill him while he was closer. "Without that, I would likely be dead. It's almost a shame I can't return the favor, especially in light of the information you and your wife have given us over the years." His hands bunched up, broken nails pressing against the inside of his gauntlets. "I agree with you, for the record. This has gone badly wrong. I'll personally inform EarthGov leadership that future Marker experiments will need to be conducted in locations without civilians."
Curtis wanted to scream. That wasn't the problem, and Tiedemann knew it. The Markers would always find ways to kill people, no matter how many careful plans and traps were set.
He nodded. "Goodbye, everyone. I truly hope your deaths are swift and painless."
"At least hold Weyland-Yutani accountable for releasing their alien on the station!" Nicole blurted out.
Tiedemann furrowed his brow, and his jaw hung open slightly, revealing perfectly white teeth that he must have spent thousands of credits on. Looked genuinely baffled by this claim. Does he not know?
Curtis didn't get a chance to ask, because Tiedemann's visage faded a moment later. He said what he wanted to. Any outstanding questions could be fielded to his generals… or to whatever bigshot Wey-Yu folks surely holed up there with him. For the record, Nicole agreed that Tiedemann had been caught off-guard. Didn't see a reason for him to feign confusion. Wondering about that would have to wait, though.
"So… what do we do now?" Ellie asked. Despite being collected through it all, these new developments put a fearful edge into her voice. Curtis didn't know, in part because his mind drifted in an unpleasant direction.
He mused about EarthGov having a failsafe for if the Marker ran rampant, but seeing the lengths Tiedemann used to justify this slaughter made him think he'd been mistaken. There were no planets to drop on it this time.
Come to think of it, that alien would have done the job. The Marker may have been among the toughest substances known to man, yet XX121's acid was able to dissolve anything it encountered. It'd eat through any container, though, so the only way to test that hypothesis was for the alien to rub its bleeding body against the rock. Piqued Nicole's scientific curiosity, if nothing else.
"I don't know," he said, slumping against a pillar. Troubled as he was, the few survivors over here had it worse; they'd be in serious trouble with the heat and lights going out, while the Necromorphs couldn't care less. "And there's no point doing this if we can't figure out how to destroy the Marker."
"When we were separated, Stross said he might know how," Isaac said with a shrug.
Curtis and Nicole slowly looked at Nolan, who backed up a few feet. He could handle Necromorphs jumping at him, but the attention proved to be a little much.
"Really?" The man hesitantly nodded.
"Not very forthcoming with the details," Ellie clarified.
"Do you know something, Nolan?" Nicole asked.
"There's a m-machine: a needle machine," he stammered. "It goes in your eye, and… the memories come back! I don't remember it all, though." The images those words conjured made Curtis blink profusely. He refused to envision how horrific it'd be if such a device malfunctioned. Then again, he didn't need to. Remembered in detail how Kyne accidentally stabbed Captain Mathius in the oculus with a syringe of tranquilizer. The results were messy, to say the least.
"Is that possible?" Isaac asked Nicole as he rubbed his head. "Though now that he mentions it, I might recall something similar."
"Probably. Machines that interface with the brain have been able to display thoughts and memories for centuries. Some high-end VR helmets can do it." Nowhere near as good as the connection she had with Curtis! Speaking of which, he knew from her memories that she'd never heard of such machines extracting details with such high degrees of accuracy. "Under duress, however, they become less effective. Also only works with clear memories at the forefront of the mind." She turned to Stross again, skeptical of his story. "In other words, pulling information about the Marker that it shoveled into someone's subconscious would be very difficult… but not impossible." She shook her head.
"The needle is the only implausible part. After all, we're able to get these readings via simple electrodes on the scalp." This was true; his wife probed Lexine's brain countless times without ever drilling into her head.
Curtis stared at Stross a moment more. He said nothing about this method of defeating the Markers. To do that, they'd need to find this "machine" and strap him or Isaac in. Both men knew that, so he didn't want to bring it up before it became relevant. Ellie clapped her hands together, whatever shock she dealt with taking a backseat to ensuring they got out before suffocating.
"Exciting as this is, we need power. Without it, the trains don't move, and we can't get across. Not to mention that it'll be cold as space in a few hours." Not a threat to them in their RIGS, but she was also concerned about the few people clinging to life over here. "Any ideas?"
"I m-might have one," Nolan whispered. Immediately regretted that, since he shrank back when eyes fell upon him. "The Sprawl has, uh, solar arrays at the 'top' that can be accessed from h-here, but they've been m-mothballed for decades." Right! Curtis forgot about that. It was nothing but an eyesore nowadays, but he saw the facility "above" the Sprawl while going to work. A single thread connected the platform to the station… and it was close. This was the Transport Hub, after all!
"Great, I'll head there now," said Isaac, drawing his gun for good measure. Curtis had no better concepts except collecting a lot of batteries.
"We're coming with you," he and Nicole said almost at once. This was too big a job for one person.
"Never doubted it. Ellie?"
"Much as I'd like to, you might need someone on the ground to help." Yeah, he saw the woman's point. A lot might be wrong on either end if the solar array hadn't been used for decades. Left unsaid was that Stross was in no condition to perform crazy feats of engineering or whatever Isaac expected. Ellie was indifferent to him before, but now they had to keep him alive.
Curtis' stomach sank as he remembered that wireless communications were still being blocked, though. What could they accomplish in tandem without being able to talk? He raised this concern, and Ellie quickly deflated. The nascent plan may have been dead in the water… except for one thing. Curtis didn't want to think about it, though Nicole was more open to the idea.
It could be the only way, she said. He couldn't argue with that.
"If I go with Isaac and Curtis stays here, or vice versa, our psychic connection will allow us to communicate," his wife explained. The platform may have been a couple miles away, but mostly being empty space meant their Bond would remain intact. Curtis didn't want to be apart from her with such dangers about (especially because he almost went mad last time), but it was necessary. He would go along and hope it went quickly. Sounds of a Necromorph army quickly grew as they bore down. It'd only be a few minutes, so the group packed up and hustled to the array.
"I've never worked on the Titan Station solar array, but I'm familiar with solar projects over the last century," Isaac huffed while they jogged. "Let me tell you how they function." Curtis wasn't in the mood for a science lecture, yet any info about what they faced would aid the laypeople.
In brief, the engineer explained that these arrays worked differently than basic solar panels, which Curtis was familiar with. Those turned solar energy into electricity. Solar arrays, on the other hand, were constructed on space stations farther from the sun (or other stars), where less power would normally be generated. To combat this, gigantic concave mirrors concentrated light into a central mechanism. This mechanism took all the energy aimed at it and turned it into a high-powered laser. This laser, in turn, was pointed at a set of high-efficiency solar panels attached to the station, where it was finally turned into electricity for the populace.
It was a more interesting process than Curtis expected, and it confirmed that it'd require maintenance at both the array itself and the solar collector "groundside". A staff of dozens probably ran the array when it was active. Now, they needed to turn it on with just five.
They reached the facility without issue. No Corruption here, which hopefully meant that the Necromorphs wouldn't be able to find them before they finished the job. The whole place being abandoned for decades meant there'd be very little inside, too – barely any skin cells or discarded food that it'd be formed from. Isaac quickly hacked the locked door and elevator; the encryption was simple, since whoever locked up for the final time didn't expect anyone to ever break in.
Curtis furtively glanced over his shoulder. Through Nicole, he felt that the thrust of the Necromorph army had arrived in the Transport Hub. At long last, the Marker's forces rallied with the sole goal of killing the few people who might be able to stop them. Their cries made it hard to think. Those thousand or so Pack were a drop of water compared to this ocean.
There were literally millions. If a single one of them spotted him or his friends… it was over.
Then let's not get caught, he told himself as if it were that easy.
The question now was whether he or his wife would go on this solar-powered adventure with Isaac.
I'll go, Nicole volunteered. That was fine with him. Isaac might need another bona fide genius with him (even if Curtis could fake it while Nicole was nearby). More importantly, she wanted to spend more time with him; their earlier jaunt had not been sufficient. At one time, he'd have been jealous. Now, he knew with certainty that those old feelings were gone… and even if they weren't, she deserved every happiness after being cooped up in a not-so-ivory tower. Isaac surely appreciated it, too.
"Nicole will go with Isaac. I'll stay here with Ellie and Nolan," Curtis said to finalize those plans. Everyone accepted the arrangement.
"As long as you don't attack me," Ellie muttered, though her voice had mirth in it. She might not have forgotten about that, but it seemed to mostly be water under the bridge. And it wouldn't happen again.
Isaac and Nicole got in the elevator as he and his new coworkers entered a place that probably hadn't been used in a longer time than any of them had been alive.