Void

An expanse of nothing looms in all directions. Beyond the octagonal window a static flickering dimness fills the view. Red strips of light tubes bake the interior in an ambient glow, shadows of pipes and machinery cast obscure outlines against the smooth metal walls. A solitary figure sits at a table set above the window. Floating motionlessly, a few packets of food stay within arm’s reach of the person hunched over the table lost in directionless contemplation.

Suited in a slightly too big blue jumpsuit, he turned to look out at the chaotic blankness beyond the hardened glass, out at the claustrophobic infinity.

Peaking above the mountains on the horizon, the sun casts brilliant amber rays through the heavy fog clinging to the freshly mowed lawns as it flows slowly over rows and rows of nearly identical houses, each one decorated in red, white, and blue - some with streamers and banners, other with the largest flag the store had available. A few signs given by the town dotted the front lawns proudly exclaiming the tricentennial celebrations.

Looking up through squinted eyes out the window at the morning sky, a man rolled over, lazily tossing his arm around his wife curled up next to him. A muffled clatter echoed through the flimsy wallboard as kids shouted in hushed whispers as they hurried around the house.

In the driveway a compact car, a space force emblem stuck to the back next to a Colorado plate, and a minivan in front of a second minivan with Missouri plates. A muddied off-center doormat reading “welcome” rests below the side door.

“Daaaaaaaad!” blasts through the door, stirring the man as he slides up and turns his head to see the shadows of two little feet under the door.

“Yes, Mark?” he responds quietly, taking a peek down at the scrunched nose of his wife squinting up at him.

“Daaad, Uncle Bruce says we need more fireworks! I want the big one!”

He sighs and swings his legs off the bed as he begins to shuffle to the door. A faint creaking from the hinges as it swings open. Staring down at the upturned face, curly hair falling over the forehead, the man smiles.

“Uncle Bruce can take you to Acme if you really want the big one. I have to get breakfast ready.”

“YAAAAAAaaaaay,” mark screams as he spins around abruptly and careens down the hallway to the stairs.

Hissing escaped from the rattling pipes, the rhythmic humming of the generator. He unlatched himself from the chair and shoved off from the table, incidentally knocking a packet off into a shadowy corner.

Sailing slowly down the corridor, past panels and dim cathode screens, he adjusted the harnesses strapped to his suit. His hand shot out to grab a steadybar. As he came to an abrupt stop, he turned to look out the window. A seething nothingness of chaotic static buzzed. Taking a velcro’d pencil off the wall he added another tick mark to the very bottom of the fourth completed panel covered in tiny etchings. Stuck to the wall with a tiny magnet, a faded picture of a family squinting into the sun, smiling beneath the blurred forms of six fighter jets overhead

Eyes lingering on his knuckles, the wrinkled skin, bruised and scarred.

His hand reaches down to rouse his wife.

“Good morning, Kayla,” he says softly, leaning down to kiss her forehead.

Sliding her head up the pillow, she brings her lips to his to steal a proper kiss.

“Good morning, Arseny”

Faint green light spilling out from the rows of pods lining the three walls of the chamber, Arseny propelled himself up the center of the room peering into the pods through the hexagonal tessellated glass.

He passed by an empty container, the next housed something approximating a human in structure and composition differing in the flower like pedals sprouting from the melted glob of flesh one could have considered a head, the burn marks giving way to lichen-like disks clinging perpendicularly to the upper arms, a hazy red substance creeping up the skin releasing tiny ruby droplets that hung still above the mossy stuff. The next container was empty.

Passing into the cargo hold, an axe rests ambivalently next to the door, faint rusty stains on its cleaving edge. He looked around at the scant crates unlatched and floating around. A semi-functional atmospheric craft rested on the floor above him, set into the electromagnetic launching tracks, its sleek black triangular shape against the dull grey of the rest of the bay.

He looked out the rectangular windows into the eternal void beyond the craft, a stuttering hiss from the pipes and valves behind his head.

Nothing.

A brilliant flash of color near to purple but unrecognizable, the plated hull of a voidship, the azure glow of titanic ion engines pulsing fusion reactions to stabilize it. Massive searchlights swung about casting their solid beams of light out into nothing.

Three umbilicals shot off from the interloping voidship, spiraling around in space, tufts of propellant directing the piercing ends towards Arseny’s ship.

Crack. Crack. Crack.

The vessel rocked violently, the structural beams strained, creaking. The cargo bay quickly rotated, bringing the far wall quickly to Arseny who braced himself with his one arm against the impending collision. Smacking clean against a crate, he was sent flailing back across the bay as the search lights cast deep yellow beams of light in through the parallel strips of windows.

“I’m gonna go get started on breakfast. Bruce is buying more fireworks because apparently the sixteen I got aren’t enough,” Arseny says as he strokes her cheek.

“I love you,” she lets out, eyes closed.

“I love you too”

Sizzling in grease, the flanks of bacon crisp and jitter. He shoves them around with a spatula. A plate of scrambled eggs rests next to the stove, slightly charred pops of red and green pepper set into chunky clumps of yellow egg.

“Go fish,” a voice exclaims from the table behind him. A frustrated first grader grabs a card off the deck and frowns as she looks down at her hand.

Violent splashing and laughter blast from the pool as five kids and one over enthusiastic uncle struggle to keep a vinyl ball from touching the water. Arseny stares out at the mountains from under the brim of a UCLA baseball hat, one hand around a can of beer, the other holding Kayla’s as she reads a novel.

Crossing and uncrossing his sandal’d feet his attention is grabbed by the piercing shutter of jets screeching overhead. He flips his hat up to stare at the black silhouettes of three triangular crafts dart away towards the northeast.

“Didn’t you say the air show starts at 4?” Kayla asks, turning to look at him.

“That’s what the newspaper said. Plus, those aren’t F-35s,” he states as his eyes follow the planes as they disappear into the bright blue sky.

“That’s weird. Maybe they started early?”

“Those were A-25s. They must have come from Nevada,” Arseny says more to himself as he gets up from the couch.

“What, honey?”

“Nothing. I’m gonna get started on the burgers.”

He lets her hand fall, looking back with a projected smile.

“Alright everyone get closer. I hear them coming!” Cynthia exclaims as she looks into the view finder. The family scrunch tighter as Arseny puts his arm around Kayla and Felicity.

Still picking at the pedals of a tiny flower a young girl stares off at the pool.

“Suzy, smile,” Arseny says lightly, as the girl turns and grins with her whole semi-toothless mouth.

A blaring thunder rockets as Cynthia clicks the button. The jets overhead blast by, the cyclone of wind knocks Arseny’s hat off.

Sliding out of the bottom slot, the picture quick develops as she grabs it.

“Alright, Kayla, you get us for the next loop around!” she says she presents the picture.

A slowly pulsing bright white light filled his vision as Arseny came to. Attempting to scratch a blaring itch, his arm wouldn’t budge as the restraint jiggled.

“Major Akhmatov, we found you unconscious in the wreckage of the Nippur. I’m lieutenant colonel Aldano, the chief medical officer onboard the Borsippa.”

“The Borsippa?” Arseny strained to say, his eyes refocusing to take in the array of LEDs around the window glaring in his face.

“Do you remember what happened? How you got here and what happened to the crew of the Nippur?”

“The Borsippa.”

“Yes, that’s where we are. Major, you have to help us; you’ve been missing for nearly six months.”

Arseny closed his eyes and sighed. The cracking headache subsided slightly.

“I don’t think he’s gonna be of any help right now,” Aldano said through his breathing apparatus to another figure hovering near the doorway.

A black car slows to a stop in the street. Two men step out, their blue and black patterned uniforms dull in the late afternoon sun.

Turning to look at the child poking bugs in the driveway, the first man takes a step forward and begins, “Good afternoon, is Major Akhmatov home?”

“Dad? I’ll go get him,” Mark exclaims as he hurries around the back of the house.

“What’s this?” Arseny asks as he walks up to the two men standing next to their car.

They’re space force, that’s for sure based on their uniforms and the delta patch on their shoulders, but he’s not familiar with their squadron patch. It is a large blue circle with a red snake curled around eating at its tail.

“Colonel Brecker requests you come with us to the mountain,” the first man states.

“Fellas, it’s the fourth and my sister and brother-in-law are in town; can’t this wait until monday?” Arseny explains

“She says it’s urgent - and an order,” the second man returns.

Arseny sighs, adjusts his folded arms, then begins “alright. I’m gonna go say bye to the family then get changed.”

The first man stares down at Arseny’s chest, slowly looking around until eventually meeting his gaze.

“Junebloom,” he lets out, immediately looking off at the mountains.

Arseny takes a quick breath, blinks, then raises a shaky finger before lowering his arm.

“Fuck. Let’s go.”

“Give me your phone,” the second man asserts as he turns to look over the seat back.

“Also,” he continues quickly, “there’s a uniform there on the floor. Should be your size. Patches and everything already on it.”

After a pause he continues again, “I’m sorry and good luck.”

Arseny looks out the window at the rows of house careening by, up at the sun sitting in the sky and the faint specks of black flying by it.

Coming back from an eternal nothing, Arseny kept his eyes closed. Bubbling and a quiet almost subsonic humming.

A beeping - some monitor somewhere seemed to indicate he was awake again.

Muffled clatter and thumping echoed in from outside his pod.

“Major Akhmatov, what the hell happened on the Nippur!” Aldano exclaimed, his voice clipping through his mouth apparatus.

“We were beyond New Eden and something got onto the ship.” Arseny let out with a sigh.

“What happened to the crew?”

“It… assimilated them?”

He opened his eyes to the light.

“Turn this fucking pod light off!” he barked, the creaking headache pulsing.

A flick and the brilliant white vanished leaving only the pale blue beyond his narrow window and the masked face of Aldano, wide eyed. A figure floated idly at the bulkhead of the room, arms crossed with one boot in a steadybar.

“Why am I in containment?” Arseny asked sternly.

“You saw what your crew mates look like,” was all Aldano mustered to respond.

The third figure pushed off the wall and sailed to the pod, lightly pushing Aldano to the side.

“Arseny, I’m sorry you’re in there, but we can’t be too careful - given the state of the Nippur, even having you here could be dangerous,” the woman asserted.

“Brecker?” Arseny asked, closing his eyes again.

“Yes, I came when they said they found the Nippur. I’m glad you’re okay - relatively,” she said looking down at the severed sleeve of his suit, the burned fringes and cauterized flesh peeking beneath.

“Can you tell me what happened?” she continued with a tinge of concern in her voice.

“We made landfall a few slips from New Eden. Something about the biosignatures the scientists were saying.”

“Was this the Agum system?”

“I don’t know the star charts, Ann.”

“oh.”

“Mostly an ocean planet, but there was a super continent. We landed in the tropics; big scaly tree things with purple fronds at the top, dense underbrush of tufty purple bushes, wildlife was four limbed - definitely an ecosystem to write home about, but they sent us off north to find an energy source they detected in orbit.”

“Energy source?”

“Something was pulsing microwaves. They ran some algos to see if it was a communication but by the time I left the ship we had nothing. The exobiologists were gathering samples around the landing site.”

“What was the source?”

“Some ancient building. Almost fully buried beneath a coarse grey sand and half flooded from the ocean lapping at it. Any exposed portion was covered in a slimy red stuff. I scraped some off and the rock underneath looked really old.”

“Probably Antecedent, right?”

“That’s what we thought. We attempted to get inside but it seemed like nature had decided otherwise since everything was covered. We snapped a bunch of pictures then headed back to the ship.”

“I’m sure we can send a proper excavation crew. A mysterious energy source in a buried antecedent building is definitely worth researching.”

“Yeah—“ his face contorted as the pulsing headache worsened. Attempting to rub his temple, his arm was still arrested by restraints. Straining against them he shook around in the pod.

The mountain looms in front of the car speeding along the solitary road, a stark nearly triangular silhouette cutting into the bright orange disk of the sun. Arseny gazes out the window, his reflection intermixed with the rushing blur of bushes set into the dusty ground.

Two tanks sit quietly blocking the entrance to the complex, their barrels grimacing. The car comes to a stop in front of a guardian carrying an assault rifle. He approaches the driver side window.

“This installation is closed. You need to leave now or we will be forced to employ lethal force,” he shouts, his weapon inching up into a low ready position.

“We’re bringing Major Akhmatov under explicit order of Colonel Brecker,” the driver explains, his hands shanking slightly as he grips the wheel tightly.

The guardian looks back at the other guard sitting behind a makeshift barricade, staring down the sights of a heavy machine gun pointed directly at the car. He nods and begins walking back to the tanks, lifting his radio to his ear.

“I guess everyone’s a little on edge,” the passenger offers tentatively, turning to look back at Arseny who stares out the window, a tiny shimmer in the corner of his eye, his hands folded in his lap, one grabbing the other.

“The uniform fits well, sir,” he continued with a weak smile as he adjusts his glasses.

Arseny blinked as he just registers someone is talking, he turns and presents a flat smile.

“Sorry, I’m just… silence is fine, uh.”

He tips his head to attempt to read the name tag on the passengers uniform.

“Technical Sergeant Cho, sir, and this is Technical sergeant Rojas-Diaz,” Cho answers.

Rojas-Diaz looks over and nods.

“Yes,” Arseny states, “Thanks, Sergeant Cho.”

He attempts a more sincere smile then turns to look off at the dots of bushes and mountains in the distance, his reflection staring back blankly.

The guardian returns to the driver side window and points down sharply. Rojas-Diaz rolls the window down and looks up at him.

“You’re cleared for entry. Give us a moment to move the tank then head directly into the facility. You’ve been told where to go, correct.”

“Yes, sir,” Rojas-Diaz responds sharply.

The guardian nods and returns to the barricade as the engine inside the tank begins thundering up, the metal of the treads clanking against the asphalt.

“Release this damned handcuff, Ann,” Arseny exclaimed, adding after a brief moment, “please”

She turned to Aldano who reached across her to the console and fiddled with it awkwardly before a snap and the restraint unlatched. He separated from the bed slightly into a free float and messaged his head.

“Do you have an advil?”

“Yes,” Aldano began, “but we’re not opening the pod.”

Ann frowned at him then turned back to Arseny.

“Sorry, but it’s for everyone’s safety. I can come back later if you need rest?”

“No that’s fine,” Arseny asserted.

He continued, “once we got back to the ship, everyone was a little excited. One of the scientists was scraping a sample of red stuff off a rock and two others were just staring at her. Apparently it was some new strain of life form. Not sure how they could have deduced that, but I never really listen to the exo’s when they talk at me.”

“What was it?”

“The red stuff that was covering that building. Some moss or fungus or something. They put the sample in a container and then brought it to the labs onboard. Later that night, we were eating in the mess when an explosion went off somewhere in the ship. It damn near knocked the vessel over. I for one was flung across the mess hall. My second in command, Stylitz, cracked his open on a wall and died right there. Red lights started going off everywhere and then while I was holding his brains together, the captain sprinted in on his way to the bridge and said we were leaving. I had one of the conscious troops check on the others while I ran to my quarters to get a gun.”

“You really have always been a shoot first kinda person.”

“I find most problems are nails and I like hammers. It was difficult just moving. The g’s we were pulling launching off that rock forced me to crawl and figuring out what was happening wasn’t fun either. After getting my rifle, I took a shaft down to the labs - it’s always the scientists. Several bulkheads were sealed up with the emergency blast doors so I had to go around. I guess the whole lab had blown clean off the ship. Once we got to orbit, I heard screaming from the containment room, so I floated in as fast I could. There was… a thing trying to attack Whitman.”

“The thing we found in the containment pod?”

“Yeah. I rushed in and kicked it into one of those. Not before it tore Whitman in half and started pumping tentacles into him. Jesus. I-I don’t even know at this point. I sealed it in a containment pod but it cut my arm. Whitman started vibrating and stuff kept popping out of him - weird fronds or something.”

“The other thing in the containment pods?”

“I pushed him in the other one right above me and sealed it - wasn’t Whitman anymore. At this point I didn’t know what was going on with the rest of the crew but I can’t imagine it was good. My arm started tingling and I could see some pink dots growing from the gash. I barely thought at that point, I just went to an emergency box, smashed it open and took out the axe. Removing an arm in zero gravity isn’t easy. That’s all I’ll say. Luckily there were A-pills in there so I didn’t really feel anything - immediately.”

“How did you stop the bleeding?”

“I tourniquet’d it ASAP, but eventually after a couple days I found the med bay was still there and figured something out.”

“I see. We can treat it properly once we get you out of the pod.”

“Thanks, but the first thing I’m doing after getting out of the pod is the officers club - I ran out of whiskey a month in.”

“As is your right. But what happened to the rest of the crew?”

“After I dealt with those things, I tried to get back to the bridge to figure out what was happening, then suddenly a blindly light like a slip but something was off and I heard a couple explosions. When the ringing in my ears stopped and my vision came back, the entire fore section of the voidship was gone, all the emergency bulkheads were sealed tight and outside was just tv static as far as the eye could see.”

“That’s the between. Or that’s what we call it. Instead of slipping between points in space you got stuck between.”

“How does that work?”

“I’m not sure, but that’s—that’s what they tell me happened. We’re still there, assessing the remnants of the Nippur.”

A long narrow hallway stretches out, buzzing bulbs illuminate the dark concrete, shadows filling in the cracks between the panels, the fissures in the century old cement. The sound of quick footsteps on linoleum tiles echo off the low ceiling and pipes.

“I’m sorry about the circumstances, Akhmatov, but we need you here,” Colonel Brecker states coolly.

“What happened? What’s happening?” Arseny asks quickly, his voice shaking slightly.

“Not here,” she responds, taking a look over her shoulder.

A cranking sound creaks out from the giant metal vault door as it swings closed. Pneumatic knocking echoes as the locking bolts slam into place sealing the room cast in dim light. Looking around, Arseny saw the worried faces of analysts staring down at the caustic light from rows of consoles.

“Follow me,” Colonel Brecker states as she marches across the alleyway towards a door in the back, an incandescent haze falling out.

They walk through the corridor towards a railed platform overlooking a shadow.

“Where is this?” Arseny asks looking up at the rocky roof of the excavated cavern.

“The trams,” was all Brecker explains as the elevator begins sliding down a track towards the lower floor. Two massive trains sit on either side of the middle platform, slate gray with several doors open along their sides. Uniformed people scramble to carry crates and pallets of mysterious objects covered in belted tarps onto the trains.

“Buckle up,” she asserts, sliding down into a rear-facing faded seat.

The interior of the tram was dark, save for three sparse lights along the middle of the ceiling.

“Colonel, where is this taking us?” Arseny asks.

“Somewhere safer. I’m sorry I can’t explain everything right now; once we reach our destination, I’ll do my best to get you caught up.”

Fiddling with a loose screw set into the pods back wall, Arseny attempted to pass the time. Almost getting it loose, a knock on the pod window behind him caused him to spin around, staring up at Aldano’s masked face.

“Blood diagnostics came back, Major Akhmatov; it looks like you’re in the clear. No foreign particles. I guess your surgery worked,” he stated flatly.

Squinting through tired eyes, Arseny nodded slowly. A few beeps emanated from the console as Aldano unlocked the pod, a hissing from the air cyclers as the pressure dropped with the door swinging up.

“Thanks, Aldano,” Arseny said as he sailed clear past him towards the hallway.

A swinging 50s jazz tune played from the jukebox riveted to the ceiling, rows of amber fairy lights ran along the walls, filling the room with a warm glow. Arseny sat alone, strapped into a seat. His rum and coke packet in his hand as it rested against the wood sticker on top of the metal bar that ran the length of the room.

“I figured I’d find you here,” Ann said as she floated down from above him. Looking up at her torquing around to orient properly to the seat she moved towards, Arseny said, “So I’m fine then?”

“All the scans came back clean. You’re fully human,” she returned as she buckled herself in.

“Did you figure out what happened to the Nippur?” He asked squeezing a shot into his mouth.

“At this point, you probably know the most.”

“So, we don’t know anything?”

She turned to the bartender resting horizontally in a nook between the chilled cabinets and the pipes.

“Can I get a vodka,” adding, “double,” as the bartender pushed out from his 15-minute break spot and opened the cabinet to grab a small silvery packet plainly labeled vodka. He tossed it lightly and it sailed into her outreaches hand.

“I heard Kemoi saying something about earth, but I don’t really know what that has to do with this,” she said as she tore the drink open, a clear oscillating drop of liquid spilling out, hovering.

“Why would he be talking about earth?”

“I wasn’t exactly in the position to ask - I probably eavesdropped enough as is.”

She squirted the packet into her mouth.

“Anyway,” she continued, “You should probably head to medical after this. But drinks on me until then.”

Arseny tipped his packet to her, to which she tapped hers, a crinkly sound emanated from the toast.

A deep roaring echoes in from the train sailing on its magnetic tracks through the subterranean tunnel.

Arseny keeps his eyes shut, a zipper on his pants twiddling between thumb and finger.

“Major Akhmatov,” Brecker starts, “we’ll be meeting General McFinny once we get to Area 51.”

“McFinny’s the advance research delta commander, right?” Arseny opens his eyes to the down turned face of Brecker staring at the textured paneling of the metal floor. She closed the cover of a novel and slid it onto the fabric seat next to her.

“Yes,” she responds

“That’s all black projects - real spooky stuff.”

“Yes.”

“I saw A-25s earlier today flying east. What’s going on? From what I read those don’t officially exist, let alone fly subatmospheric over civilian centers.”

“I’m more or less in the dark same as you,” she offers looking up.

“Can you give me the more then?”

She sighs and looks up at ceiling behind Arseny’s heads.

“Well,” she begins, “from the whispers I’ve heard, something happened in Levant.”

“What?” Arseny leans forward, moving his arms to his sides.

“Are you read into Ouroboros?” she meets his gaze.

“No.”

“I can’t tell you more then, but we’ll be briefed in an hour, I’m sure.”

He leans back, his arms instinctively fold across his body as he looks up at the dangly light rocking slightly. She sits forward, shifting her weight around, rocking her feet inside her boots.

“I’m sorry about Kayla and the kids,” she lets out softly, “I didn’t even have time to kiss Valentina goodbye either.”

She swallows and turns to look at the side door between their seats.

“I’m sorry, too,” he sighs and closes his eyes.

Three circular consoles blinked on the bridge, several operators spin in their chairs checking on systems, their faces baked in a faint glow, the ambient flicker from beyond the massive hemispheric window filling the room in a hazy blur.

“We’re going back to New Eden,” General Kemboi explained bluntly, “There’s not much more we can glean from the Nippur without the bridge intact, and beyond you and a few well contained samples I’m not risking taking whatever was in there with us.”

He turned his gaze towards Arseny who looked around the room, arm slung into a steadybar.

“Based on what you told me, Major Akhmatov, I need to discuss this further with higher command. We’ll be at New Eden in a day and a half, so compile a proper report with Colonel Brecker,” he nods at Ann, “and be ready to brief General Nguyen and General McFinny when we land.”

Arseny nodded and looked up at Kemboi hovering in the middle of the room above his chair, the sleeves of his tight uniform rolled up above his elbows.

“Will that be all, Sir?” he asked plainly.

“Yes. Dismissed.”

Staring at the blank document, the cursor blinking rhythmically, Arseny sighed and looked over to Ann hovering slightly above her bed. She flipped a page on her worn novel as Arseny began, “Where do I start with this incident report?”

“You could copy paste the formatting stuff first,” she stated, eyes unmoved from the page.

“Yeah,” Arseny sighed looking back at the computer screen.

He loaded a pre-filled memo template, taking painstaking attention to fill in the relevant information in the highlighted fields. Eyes moving back to the body of the text, he frowned to find it woefully empty. His face scrunched as he began clicking the keys, filling out a stream of consciousness from the slip into Agum - as Ann explained - to the Borsippa’s rude entrance into the Between.

As he tapped away slowly, attempting to form some coherency, Ann looked off out the porthole to the blanket of static buzzing beyond, the aft section of the Nippur floating languidly, blue arcs popped from the engine housings. An umbilical flowed softly, the ribbed section leading to the piercing end clamped haphazardly to the charred metal plating of the hull, red lights blinked on the hooked legs holding it in place. The blinking quickened and then suddenly the legs retracted and a quick orange flame sparked from the feet and rocketed the umbilical upwards, tufts of propellant shot off to direct the cord in its grand arc as it retracted. A mix of smoke and debris careened violently out of the pierced hole. She looked back to her book, picking up at the paragraph she left off on.

Arseny continued to describe what occurred, typing out details about the antecedent structure on the beach, attempting to recall the shape and composition, adding a detailed paragraph about the clinging substance covering it.

A clanking klaxon blared from the ceiling as rotating red lights began flashing from the halls. Arseny closed his eyes and leaned back in the chair, taking a deep breath. Ann pushed off the upper bunk and sank into the mattress, strapping a belt across her waist, her novel floating above her.

All experience was a deep almost-purple, then nothing. A ringing shook inside Arseny’s ears as he opened his eyes, vision fading in, he looked over to the porthole, a dusty red orb, the terminator cutting across the mountainous terrain, behind lay the flowing azure bands of a gas giant.

“I guess we slipped to Cyrus,” Arseny stated.

“How did we go from Agum to Cyrus?” Ann asks, sitting up in the bed as she turned to him.

“I’m not sure. We got to Agum from Tiglath,” he responded.

“That’s where we got to Agum from, too. Before we slipped off to the Between.”

“I never understood the gateways, so I’d be the last person to figure it out,” he said as he turned back to the computer, struggling to type quickly with one hand.

“Odd,” she stated, staring out the window down at the rusty surface of Cyrus. A dust storm swirled in the ancient dry ocean beds, dots of yellow and red lights twinkled from the installation on the night side of the moon.

Lying in the top bunk, Arseny stared at the ceiling, eyes unfocused and mind elsewhere.

“Arseny,” Ann began from the lower bunk, “What do you think earth has to do with this?”

“I don’t know. They never really explained what happened,” he returned shuffling around under the zippered blanket, a nagging dull pain extending below his right stump.

“I think it has something to do with the creatures on the Nippur.”

“Oh god,” was all Arseny sighed out.

“Never mind; I’m sure they’ll explain it in your briefing - or else just kick you out when they get to that point.”

A silence hung, the rumbling of generators and a faint thumbing from gasses and liquids pulsing through pipes.

“Ann, do you ever think about what happened to them?”

“Yeah.”

“I used to think about them every day; anytime I was alone I felt them gone. Now,” he sighed, “I had gotten so used to the absence, but when you mentioning earth back in the bar. Fuck.”

“I still miss Valentina. She gave me this book for my birthday - her favorite book. I hate fiction, but,” she inhaled, exhaled, “it’s-it’s all I have of her now. Every time I reread it, I try-try to imagine she’s in there, saving the world from the forces of evil.”

A faint sniffle whispered from the bunk below.

“I keep a picture of them. To remind—fuck!” he attempted to sit up but was restrained by the blanket.

“Fuck,” he continued, “I left the picture on the Nippur.”

Rotating around he jimmied the zipper, releasing himself as he darted across the room.

“Arseny. Arseny!” Ann yelled, “I found the picture and brought it. It’s in the drawer. We’ve been so busy I forgot to give it back. Sorry.”

He rested against the far wall, upside down in the nook above the door, a few drops of liquid floating away from his face.

“Oh,” he let out, gliding down to the desk.

He attempted to right himself with his one hand flailing to get oriented.

“Fucking goddamn it!”

He inhaled, dragged himself closer to the chair, and kicked off the wall with his foot to rotate himself into the chair.

Sliding the drawer open, he snatched the picture as it lifted off into the cool air.

He exhaled, stared at it, then put it in the zipper pocket on his chest below the Space Force patch.

Strapping the lap belt, he turned the chair to face Ann, who had sat up.

“I’m sorry. I can’t lose them again,” he let out.

“It’s okay, Arseny,” she wiped her face, “I get it.”

He looked down at the floor, his hand resting in his lap.

“I’m getting tired of this,” he said, staring at a rivet on the lower shelf of the beds.

“Are you okay?” she asked, looking at the grey hairs on his temple.

“No,” he returned.

“It’s hard. I can barely keep going sometimes. For the past few months, I’ve been hanging on for news about you though,” she trailed off looking at the dim lights reflecting off of the curved wall in the hallway.

“Thanks, Ann.”

“I feel like I’ve been in a fog since earth,” she continues, “I’m trying desperately to find a meaning; I just keep trudging. I guess we have each other but… I’m tired.”

“Command keeps talking about Humanity, but - fuck - everyone’s be sterile since the first slip,” he exclaimed.

“Yeah. We’re on a hamster wheel. It’s not like we even have posterity to build for - shit,” she sighed.

“I don’t know how much longer I can keep this up; I just got back and i’m already done.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Maybe we should continue this at the officers club, I don’t think I’ll be sleeping tonight anyway.”

“I agree,” she said, looking down at him slumped in the chair still staring at the floor, reflection from the hallway light glinting off his cheeks.

A wall plastered with reports and newspapers stretches across the room. An arial photograph of a destroyed building with excavation equipment around it, a headline stapled beneath reading “Historic Cultural Site Destroyed in Air Strikes Sunday Following Intense Fighting with Al-Qaeda;” several grainy pictures of interior walls, broken iconography, damaged golden detailing, a deep pit built from large cracked stones; Memos outlining some discovery and the engineering plans to remove it; a cross section of a seismic scan; pictures of cranes, an object beneath a large tarp, the faces of people crossed out with a black marker; another picture of a C-5 open with a huge pallet being loaded onto it, a tarp with a strange snake pictogram buckled tightly around the irregular cargo; a memo from president Obama, stating the profound importance of Ouroboros to nations security and the future of mankind; an aerial photo of Area 51 with a red circle somewhere off in the desert; a memo describing—

“Major Akhmatov,” Brecker exclaims, tugging at his shoulder, “General McFinny is waiting.”

She walks off into a narrow doorway in the far wall, Arseny close behind. The next room is larger, several military personnel hurry about, a row of chairs line the right wall, a young woman sits alone, legs crossed and eyes cast down, her runny eye makeup dry.

Walking briskly up to Brecker and Arseny, a short grey-haired man offers a half smile and begins, “Colonel Brecker, this is your engineer?” he says gruffly.

“Yes, Sir. This is Major Akhmatov. He is currently the chief engineer for the Daedalus Project. He also has a Ph.d in astronautical engineering,” Brecker explains as she stands next to Arseny.

“Daedalus, eh?” the grey-haired man says, “not anymore; we’re reassigning you. I’m General McFinny.”

He presents his wrinkled hand to Arseny, who shakes it.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir. If you don’t mind me asking, what’s going on?” Arseny stammers out.

“Shit hit the fan, Akhmatov, no two ways about it. We’re bugging out,” McFinny states cooly, barely an inflection change in his voice.

Arseny leans forward and implores, “Sir, my family. If somethings happening, I-I need them to be safe.”

McFinny drops his hand and looks around at the wall behind Arseny’s head. Brecker shuffles her foot hesitantly.

“There isn’t time. I’m sorry. Hell, my wife is still at Nellis, too. There really isn’t anything we can do. Now I need to make sure preparations are in place. It’s good to have you onboard, Akhmatov.”

He turns and briskly walks across the room to a group of other uniformed personnel.

“Brecker, what’s going on?” Arseny asks, turning to her.

“I don’t know for sure either. This is the Ouroboros facility. I’m not too knowledgeable on what goes on here, but I recognize it. As to what’s going on outside, all I picked up was something happened in Levant and the eastern bloc lost it.”

“What?”

“That’s all I know.”

Arseny looks down, sighs, and walks over to the chairs along the wall.

“I’m sitting down,” he says to her.

Sliding into the almost comfortable chair next to the young woman, Arseny leans onto his hands, elbows brace against his knees. He turns his head to look at the woman.

“Hi,” he offers.

She looks up, a shaky unconfident smile.

“Hi,” she returns.

“I’m Arseny.”

“I’m Daisy.”

“If you don’t mind me asking, how are you here?”

“Oh,” she exclaims, “I… well… I’m a… friend of Julian - er, General McFinny.”

“Makes sense,” Arseny says, “uhh… where are you from?”

“I’m from Vegas,” she responds, “and you, Arseny?”

“I live in Colorado Springs.”

“That’s a lovely place. I went hiking up that way one summer.”

“It is very pretty. Daisy, do you know what going on?”

“Julian was going on about the end of the world. It really scared me. He got a call when we were together and then had me get into a car while he yelled over the phone.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, and then he was saying something about Eden and how I’ll be his eve, but I really don’t know what’s happening and no one will talk to me.”

She sniffles and adjusts the purse in her lap.

“I’m sorry, Daisy, I’m in the same boat as you. I was grilling burgers with my family not five hours ago.”

“That’s terrible. I hope you get to see them soon and explain what happened.”

“Me, too,” Arseny lets out staring at the opposing wall, a snake emblem plastered on a large metal sliding door.

A solidarity safety light illuminated the technically closed officers club as the pair float languidly behind the bar. A packet of rum and coke rested idly above Arseny’s hand; a packet of whatever was closest scrunched in Ann’s.

“We’re still in the Cyrus system, right?” Arseny asked.

“Yes. The gate is charging for the next slip,” Ann responded.

“Then it’s New Eden and giving my report to Nguyen and McFinny.”

“Something like that,” Ann said, taking a squirt of a vodka-based mix drink.

A pile of crinkled drink packets rested below them in a small shelf set into the bar. A new packet sailed slowly to join them as Arseny opened the fridge to grab another.

“It’s been, what, four years?” Arseny began

“Closer to five now; you’ve been gone for a while,” Ann corrected as she looked at his shadowed faces.

“Five years and they never told us what happened to earth, what happened to our loved ones. I’m fucking pissed.”

“It is bullshit,” she joined, “they just expect us to keep running missions for them and for what? To do fucking alien archeology?”

“And,” he paused briefly to swallow, “My whole crew is gone. Everyone - Stylitz, Whitman, Crenshaw, everybody.”

“I’m sorry, Arseny,” Ann said, placing her hand on his shoulder.

“Sometimes I wish I could have just spent the end of the world with Kayla and the kids. Never slipped to New Eden, never did any of this space shit.”

Ann looked down, her hand slipping off his shoulder. She took another large sip from her packet.

“I’m sorry,” she barely whispered.

“Oh no. I don’t blame you, Ann, it’s not your fault,” Arseny reassured, dropping his drink to simply float idly, staring at her down turned face.

“I know. McFinny called me directly and said he needed an engineer. I didn’t know what would happen. I really had no idea. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. We all got the short straw.”

Ann looked back up.

“Thanks,” she said, “we should probably get some sleep; you have a big day tomorrow.”

Arseny nodded and shot the rest of his drink into his mouth before rotating around towards the door.

Pneumatic hissing of pistons rang out as the gangplank extended down onto the dark tarmac of the dry dock, a verdant landscape of massive trees and flowing grass surrounds the large black landing zone. The Borsippa relaxed down on the trunk like landing struts, as a group began to hurry down the plank, a fresh breeze flowing by carrying the aroma of flowers mingling with the heavy metallic smell of the oxidizing hull.

Unsteadily Arseny stumbled down the metal plated ramp, his legs atrophied from months of disuse, Ann proving a arm to help him, their footsteps clanging as birds tweet from the trees above.

Rising above the jade canopy was the massive stepped pyramid, the main base for Ouroboros and what remained of humanity.

Dressed in white jumpsuits, a few medical officers waited below, a wheelchair glinting in the warm sun.

“And then what occurred after you became stranded in the Between?” the gruff voice of General McFinny interrogated.

He sat behind an imposing desk, huge windows allowed a brilliant stream of light to fall in from the world beyond. General Nguyen adjusted his glasses, tugged his gloves taught, and leaned forward.

“Nothing happened for about six months until the Borsippa slipped in and boarded, sir,” Arseny explained, squinting into the sun.

He shifted in his seat, a squeak from the wheelchair’s axle.

“Major Akhmatov,” Nguyen began, “do you know what happened on earth?”

“No, sir.”

“Further excavation of site Theta in Levant unearthed another chamber of the gate complex. We never knew it was there and since the withdrawal sixty-something years ago we haven’t had access to site Theta. The scant reports we got before we closed the gate indicate there was a red moss-like substance in the chamber. Spores and lichen et cetera. Decrypted messages from the eastern bloc indicated that ‘it’ was spreading violently and Beijing went nuclear. The boys in EUDEFCO naturally answered.”

Arseny swallowed as he fidgeted with a tiny screw on the armrest.

“We believe,” Nguyen continued, “that the substance discovered on Agum and the creatures found on the Nippur are the same thing that sparked this whole mess back on earth.”

A thundering echoed in from outside as two A-25 roared overhead as they began their nearly vertical assent into exoatmospheric operations.

“We’re going back to earth, Akhmatov,” McFinny stated bluntly, leaning back in his chair, rotating it slightly, “We can’t risk a full invasion yet, but we are sending an expeditionary team to gather information on the state of earth, recover any extent files from Cheyenne, and report back. I know you’re banged up, but with the loss of the entire crew of the Nippur, there’s not many of us left. Akkad is on resource runs near the galactic core, and Borsippa is running on a skeleton crew as is.”

“Yes, sir,” Arseny stated, “I can do it.”

“Understood, Major,” McFinny continued, “we’re sending you, Colonel Brecker, and Major Kiani across in one week. I suggest you go to medical and see what they can do about getting you back in shape.”

Arseny nodded as a guardian began pushing him out of the room.

“Major Akhmatov,” Nguyen stated, “if you need to just use A-pills for this deployment I’ll make sure it doesn’t show up in your performance report.”

“Thank you, sir. I appreciate that,” Arseny responded as he was pushed out through the large wooden door.

“Back to earth?” Ann exclaimed, her breathless voice betraying her disbelief.

“Back to Cheyenne, too. They think there may be files about what happened,” Arseny continued.

Looking out over the flowing water, Arseny leaned forward to touch the metal railing of the balcony. A cool condensation off the salty water clung to his finger as he ran his hand over the railing. Nudging himself forward with his boots, he wheeled closer to the edge, staring off at the flock of gulls flying above the twinkling water.

“Back to earth,” she whispered to herself, leaning more over the railing, peering down at the ancient grey stones built against the idyllic sea.

Brecker paces back and forth slowly, her lips muttering something as she stares down at the tile flooring. Large halogen bulbs hum brightly, the room a deep yellow.

The side door opens and a uniformed woman walks in and scans over the few people huddled around the perimeter nervously whispering to each other.

Making eye contact with Arseny, she raises her eyebrows and begins walking towards him.

“Azita!” he calls.

“Arseny, I’m glad to see you here. Do you know whats happening?” she responds.

“No,” Arseny explains as she sits down in the chair next to him, sliding one boot under her, as she pivots to face him.

“Did you know about those trains? Built right under the mountain and I’ve never even heard a whisper,” Azita exclaims.

“I’m learning about a lot of things today. Oh, this is Daisy,” he says leaning back as Daisy waves slowly, projecting a smile.

“Hi, Daisy. I’m Azita.”

“Hello, Azita,” Daisy says with a smile.

“Anyway,” Azita continues, “Two men showed up at my apartment and said I needed to come with them,” adding in a whisper, “‘Junebloom.’”

“Apparently China went nuclear. They found something in Levant,” Arseny says.

“Shit. So, this is the end of the world then?”

“I-I don’t really know.”

He looks off at the General yelling at a sergeant across the room. Brecker stops marching to come closer.

“Good evening, Major Kiani,” she states.

“Good evening, Colonel Brecker.”

A red light flicks on and begins spinning around, casting a wash of ruby across the room.

A chugging sound as the metal door begins sliding on its tracks revealing the massive room behind.

Shuffling his feet, adjusting his posture, Arseny stares up at the titanic device in the center of the room. The bright lights glinting off the arrays of pink crystals. The ancient stone and smooth blue-green metal. One by one, they step up onto its raised platform.

McFinny is standing nearer to the front of the line.

“Beyond the gate is New Eden. You’re here because you are needed in the next world,” he states boldly.

Azita turns around and shakes her head slightly, her face contorted by a bewildering disbelief.

Stepping up onto the raised platform of the gate, Arseny looks down at Brecker, who stares up. She offers a faint smile that quickly fades. Suddenly all is an almost-purple, then the vistas of emerald beyond the gate fill his vision. New Eden. A new world.

Taking shaky unconfident steps, Arseny made his way to the bar. It was empty, save for the bartender reading a book on a stool and a uniformed woman sitting up straight, her blond hair pulled into a pony tail.

“Daisy?” Arseny asked as he slid into the seat next to her.

The woman turned and smiled.

“Arseny! I heard they found the Nippur. I’m glad you’re okay - uhh,” her eyes lingered on the tightly bunched cuff under his right shoulder.

“It’s good to see you, too, Daisy,” he said calmly.

lifting up what remained of his arm he began, “buy me a drink and i’ll fill you in.”

She chuckled nervously, indicating to the roused bartender that she needed two more drinks.

“I’d ask how you’ve been but I’m not sure that’s the conversation you want right now,” Daisy said.

“After my meeting with Nguyen and McFinny, that’s the conversation i want to have,” he said pointing at the glass of liquor being poured, “how have you been?” he asked.

“I’m doing well. I got promoted to captain a couple months ago,” Daisy answered, “They still have me in maintenance, but more paper work.”

“It’s always paperwork, isn’t it? I remember when I made major. That was the last time I touched any engineering software,” he added.

“A tragedy,” she said as she took a sip.

“What’re we drinking?”

“Gin and tonics,” she said holding her glass to him.

A clink echoed off the old wooden bar and reverberated through the empty room baked in a warm glow from the industrial lights hanging from the ceiling. He took a gulp, the alcohol rushing down his esophagus.

“What was your meeting about?” Daisy queered.

“It’s probably classified, but,” he looked around at the empty tables behind him, the bartender buried in a book at the other end of the bar, an aircraft maintenance patch on his shoulder, “They’re sending me back to earth,” he whispered, leaning over.

“My god. Earth?” she responded in an excited hush.

“Where I was for six months, what happened to the Nippur, apparently it’s connected to what happened over there, so McFinny is sending three of us back to get intel.”

“That’s unbelievable. Earth.”

“But you can’t tell anyone. With any luck, we can laugh about this back on terrestrial soil in no time.”

He took another gulp and leaned back.

“Anything I missed?” Arseny asked.

“Oh, not much. Akkad slipped off, Borsippa made a few antecedent discoveries in Esarhadden. I’ve been practicing my racket ball, so I’ll probably beat you now.”

“That’s big talk.”

“I’m pretty good. I beat Samson.”

“Damn,” he took a sip, “maybe you are good now.”

She leaned over and whispered, “what do you think earth is like now?”

His gaze shuffled around across the different bottles of alcohol.

“I’m not sure,” he said, “I haven’t been there for five-ish years now.”

“Are you going to be near Akron?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Oh, well if you are could you see if my family is okay?”

“Daisy, I-I don’t think anyone is okay. You remember what they told us when we first got here.”

“I know, but,” she took a gulp from the glass, “I can hold out hope. They’re wrong about a lot. Maybe-maybe they are wrong about that.”

“I hope so. I miss them, too.”

He rotated in his chair, resting his arm on the bar.

“I’m sorry for bringing it up,” Arseny said.

“No, it’s okay. I’d rather know than be in the dark.”

She took another sip.

“Worse comes to worst, I’ll be back in couple weeks to play racket ball.”

“Of course, Arseny. I’ll have to beat you properly.”

Turning the glass in his hand, light refracted through, glinting and displaying a chaotic mess of shining brilliance within the crystal.

Backpacks and respirators rested against a crate. Rocking slightly, overhead lamps spilled out cascades of caustic white light, falling over the three figures wearing baggy jumpsuits.

“We haven’t activated this gate in four and a half years, so be patient as we figure it out,” Nguyen stated as he sat in a folding chair off to the side, hurried mechanics swarming the giant device, aligning crystals and adjusting pipes.

“I can’t believe we’re going back,” Azita exhaled.

“I’m not sure what I expect to see,” Ann joined.

“We’re going home,” Arseny added quietly, looking at the rolled-up sleeves of a mechanic tuning the prismatic alignment of a shiny pink rock set into an intricate matrix of metal.

A buzzing began emanating from the device, electrostatic charge began filling the room, tingling at their faces.

“It’s all good for the slip, sir,” a worker stated, hopping off a ladder.

“Well then,” Nguyen stated as he stood up, “Good luck and god speed.”

Ann nodded to him, grabbed her respirator, and slung the backpack over her shoulders. They made their way onto the platform and looked around at the vaulted ceiling of the subterranean chamber.

A blinding experience encompassed all, then the sound of dripping water, the feeling of a breeze circling, a solid beam of light fell in through a large crack in the bunker ceiling. Mounds of loose sand scattered around the room.

“Area 51,” Arseny stated plainly, taking a hesitant step forward.

Scrambling up the decayed stair well, hot desert sunlight falling in from the open metal door, Arseny clambered to steady himself under the slightly higher gravity pulling on his already weak legs.

The desert expanded in all directions, a sand swept wasteland, a few rectangular bunkers rested semi-sunken in the mounds of coarse sand blanketing the terrain. The sky was a light blue, empty save for a solitary cloud and the baking sun staring down, it’s familiar color offsetting the discomfort of the heat.

“Where do we go now?” Azita said, looking out to the jagged edges of several massive craters a mile in the distance.

“They said there would be intel at Cheyenne. Would the trams still work?” Arseny said, squinting as he scanned the lifeless horizon.

“I doubt that,” Ann responded, pointing off to the buried husk of a train resting in disarray between the rusted ribs of damaged rails.

“Holy shit. How’d that get to the surface?” Arseny exclaimed.

“I don’t think we’re on the surface,” Azita said, looking up at the circular cusp surrounding them in a miles wide crater.

Arseny looked around, taking in the charred and crumbling concrete structures, the cracked half of a subterranean missile silo rising forty feet above where they stood.

Standing at the edge of the high sloped crater, Ann looked down at what remained of Area 51, observing the scattered bunkers exposed and covering in shifting sands, the disk of the main crater and two smaller ones dotting the interior. She turned to look off at the desert before them expanding seemingly infinitely, the jagged suggestion of mountains somewhere peaking over the horizon.

“How are we supposed to get to Colorado now?” Azita asked to no one in particular.

“I guess we could walk?” Arseny offered.

“That’s a thousand miles,” she retorted.

“Walking doesn’t make sense. Maybe there’s something in the bunkers,? Maybe we can find a way into the tram tunnel?” Ann asserted stepping closer to the others.

“Climb all the way back the way we just came?” Azita said, a tinge of anguish creeping into her voice.

“I don’t see any better options,” Ann responded turning to take in the expanse of sand.

“Alright, I guess that’s the best bet,” Azita conceded.

Trudging through the loose sand, they began the trek back into the ruins at the bottom of the basin.

The sun slipped slowly down in the west, the harsh heat dissipating as cooler winds flowed down into the crater. Azita kicked at loose chunks of rubble, knocking tiny stone pieces together with a light thunk. Shuffling towards the derelict train, Arseny saw a darker recess towards the front of the metal web of debris.

Reaching into his velcro pants pocket, Arseny dragged out a small metal flask, bringing it up to his face. Holding it in thumb and finger he attempted to dislodge the respirator strapped over his mouth and nose puffing scrubbed air.

“Arseny, don’t take that off!” Ann shouted from behind him.

He turned to see her hustling towards him.

“The air here could be toxic and if those mushroom things from the Nippur have anything to do with earth, keep it on!” she exclaimed, grabbing his wrist.

“Oh,” Arseny stated.

“Yeah. Don’t get yourself killed. Why’d you even bring that?” she asked.

“Figured I may need it,” he said.

She let go of his arm and he returned the flask to his pocket as they came upon the wreckage of the train.

The side of the car pointed to the sky, sand settled into the dents and fissures in the steal plating. What remained of the upper and lower rail was snapped and scattered, jutting up haphazardly from the sand around the exposed portion of train. Beyond the wreck was a dark hole set into the semi-stable edge of the crater.

“There,” Azita said pointing to the exposed cavern, “That must be the rail tunnel to Cheyenne.”

The interior was dark, their flashlights hurriedly sliding over the cracked walls and reflecting off of the intact tracks. Tentative footsteps echoed off of the high ceiling and into the stygian darkness beyond sight.

“This helps, but we still have to walk,” Arseny said, his voice bouncing within the tunnel, lingering in the stale air.

“I guess there nothing for it. At least it’s cooler in here,” Azita responded as she began marching down into the blackness.

Walking together, their flashlights providing nominal awareness of the creaking remains of the tunnel, they continued on deeper along the tracks towards the mountain complex.

“Area 51 wasn’t that populated before,” Arseny said, “maybe it being abandoned doesn’t really indicate much.”

“You saw the big hole, right?” Azita responded.

“Yeah, but,” he continued, “I can hold out hope.”

Trudging through the cool static air of the tunnel, the three continued pushing further down.

A glinting of something off to side caught Ann’s attention as she languidly swung the beam of her flashlight around. Holding it fixed over the rectangular recess, she could make out something behind the small doorway a hundred yards away.

“Hey, what’s over there?” she stated picking up her speed as she clambered over the rail in the middle of the tunnel.

“Looks like a door,” Azita answered sprinting to investigate.

She reached the open doorway, noting the large sliding metal door to her left as she disappeared inside. The others caught up and went into the pitch black room, a computer console rested along the left wall, broken glass scattered over the keys from the windows looking out into a storage room. On the opposite wall was another sealed metal door.

“This must be some installation built into the rail network,” Ann said, shining her flashlight around the room, over the dislodged vent, a faint red reflecting from the metal ducts beyond. The beam fell to rest on a clump of uniform huddled in the corner. A stain on the concrete floor surrounded the fabric, a skull resting at the top of it, the slightly scattered hand bones visible near the sleeves. She walked closer slowly, eyes fixed on the circular shell like growths affixed to the skull.

“Arseny,” she said over her shoulder, “look at this.”

He walked up behind her, his unsteady breath audible through the respirator.

“Those things on the head - that’s like what was on the creature,” she stated as if a question.

“Yeah,” Arseny sighed looking to the metal door, the unmistakable dents of gunshots and the blackened char of an explosion around the perimeter of the sealed entry.

Ann stooped down, inspecting the skeleton closely, barely visible fibers interlacing the bones, clinging like spiders webs, reflected light in twinkles.

“Guys,” Azita exclaimed shining her flashlight through the broken window, “I found something.”

She looked into the storage room, crates and boxes stacked around in orderly rows. A diesel powered rail car hung from a crane on the ceiling.

The rhythmic hum of the engine echoed off of the roof, filling their ears with a constant low sound as the maintenance rail car chugged along the bottom rail eastward towards the mountain complex.

Sitting cross legged on the operator seat, Azita leaned back and watched the irregular rocks flow past in a blur, jagged shadows from the yellow lamp on the front of the vehicle.

Arseny sat in the cargo portion against the metal railing, fiddling with the zipper at the bottom of his jacket, turning the little clip over in his fingers.

Ann rested in the rear facing seat of the cargo platform, head hunched over her novel, the flashlight tucked sideways in her chest pocket to illuminate the pages. She flipped to the next page, a slight crinkle coming from the well used pages.

“Ann,” Arseny began looking up from the textured floor, “what book is that?”

“Oh,” she said looking to him, “it’s called ‘Transience of Eternality,’ a fantasy novel.”

“What’s it about?”

“It’s like a medieval setting. An ancient evil is awakened and begins wreaking havoc. A young heroine has to save the world. Her grandma taught her spells and magic for use in farming and building and cooking and stuff, but she’s sheltered in the little village she’s from. She has to brave the complexities of growing up and a world ending threat to save everyone. It’s actually interesting because the magic well that the evil warlock gets his strength from is the same well her grandma learned magic from. There’s a lot of raven imagery - it’s probably a metaphor but I don’t know what it means. One of the main themes is like good and evil, power, are all different reflections of the same thing. In the end, the warlock turns out to be her grandfather and she has to accept the bad within her to overcome it.”

“Sounds interesting.”

“It is,” she said softly, adding, “I’ll be honest, I don’t really get it, but I need to read it.”

“I get that,” Arseny said, touching his left chest pocket.

“I can lend it to you if you want to read it. We really didn’t bring many books across. A bunch of movies, but I’ve seen like maybe two other books in the time we were gone.”

“I think I’d like to read it,” Arseny stated, “Valentina got me a book for a squadron and family secret Santa one year and it was pretty good.”

“How do you know she got you?”

“You told me the day they were assigned.”

“Yeah, that sounds like me.”

“I’ve always been a nonfiction guy myself.”

“Right? Like I get maybe an hour of free time a day; I want to spend it on something productive.”

“Like I could read about an epic journey or sci-fi thriller, but there’s so many good leadership books my commander officers always recommended,” Arseny added with a smirk to Ann.

“I did have a good library in my office.”

“Maybe they’ll still be there?”

“I doubt that. After seeing what Area 51 looked like, I don’t have much hope for Cheyenne.”

She looked down and off to the blackness sliding below the train.

“Oh,” Arseny let out.

“But - uh - Colorado Springs is probably fine. With all the penetration bombs, I’m sure it was surgical - if anything even happened,” Ann responded, turning back to look at Arseny’s downturned face, a glinting in the corner of his eye from the flashlight.

“We can hope,” he said, “regardless, McFinny is expecting intel, so we gotta find something.”

“McFinny always expects something.”

“After my meeting with him I went right to the bar.”

“Makes sense.”

“I actually bumped into Daisy.”

“That’s good. She’s doing well, I hear.”

“That’s what she told me. Also said she’s lethal at racket ball now.”

“Oh? Not my game, but I remember you guys used to train together.”

“Apparently she used my untimely absence to get better than me.”

“When it rains it pours, I guess.”

“That’s—”

“Guys!” Azita yelled from the front of the tram, “look at this?”

Hanging onto the railing, Arseny lifted himself up and began stumbling towards the front of the vehicle behind Ann.

Visible in the yellow cone of light from the lamp, red mossy stuff clung in tiny tendril like clumps to the roof of the tunnel, wispy white spindles swayed in the disturbed air, their web-like structure flowing.

“I don’t like this,” Azita said as the others kneeled down next to her.

“That’s the stuff that was all over the antecedent building on Agum, the stuff the scientists brought onto the Nippur,” Arseny explained.

“It looks like a fungus,” Azita said, “I read about this. Maybe a lichen with the red part - a symbiote between a fungus and a different organism, typically an algae. The white stuff could be mycelium, but that’s usually within soil, not just hanging down in the air.”

“So a mushroom ended the world?” Arseny asked defensively.

“That’s not what I’m saying,” Azita responded, “just that’s what this substance looks like.

As the trained moved further into the tunnel, the frequency of red patches and the density of the webs increased.

“We must be getting close,” Ann stated.

Arseny looked down the tunnel, towards the stygian darkness, towards the mountain complex.

Inching up the derelict funicular track, Arseny hugged the central rail as he pushed himself up with his boots, the tubes of his respirator bobbing slightly. Azita watched him from the platform above, sitting down, legs dangling below.

Ann extended her arm down, grabbing his hand to drag him up onto the platform.

Palpable darkness pressed in on them, thin slices of flashlight barely illuminating the path in front of them into the hallway. Spindly webs clung to the walls, smooth brown stumps grew down from the ceiling, condensation dripping from their rounded apexes.

As he walked by, his shoulder brushed past a tangle of mycelium, the tendrils instinctively pulled back to the ceiling, a shuddering rocked somewhere in the rocks far above them, loose dirt falling in from cracks in the roof.

“What’s that?” Ann pressed quickly, passing her flashlight over the room.

“I don’t know,” Arseny shouted in a whisper, “We should get out of here.”

They quickly turned into the adjoining room, a central bulb hung from the ceiling, it’s smooth pale blistery skin semi-translucent, the flashlights seeping in implying irregular clumps of material curled inside.

A skeleton against the wall, almost furry with the twinkling white webs, thicker tentacles puncturing the uniform, holding it tightly to the concrete. Missing a head, an array of transparent pink fronds sprouted out of the collar, three charred bullet holes dot its chest.

Arseny swung the narrow beam of his flashlight away to a body hunched behind a chair, an assault rifle pointed towards the door, rows and rows of concentric circular shell-like growths sprouted from the skull down its rib cage, exposed through the torn apart uniform. He put his flashlight into his pocket, taking out his pistol.

They carefully step towards the hallway through the large doorway, the vault door bent in half resting in a corner, covered in moss, a faint haze of red lingering above it, refracting the light into a ruby glow.

Tiny spores flow idly through the dim corridor, massive growths of red clinging stuff lined the roof and dripped down into the path in front of them. Azita walked in front, scanning around, her handgun held tightly, almost shaking, next to her flashlight.

Stepping on loose bullet casing, metallic sounds emanated, hesitant gasps crackling through their respirators.

Gun peaking through first, Azita entered a stairwell leading up. A large brown cylinder rose between the two sides of steps, slight contractions running down the smooth skin.

She stepped onto the first step, swatting at the dense swarm of red spores, the movement barely adjusting their lazy arcs. Tiny pink mushrooms clung to the wall, growing from tiny cracks, they stuck out and up, wide circular heads with uncountable ribs visible underneath, five jellyfish-like tentacles hung down a few inches beneath.

Rows of unused consoles stretched across the massive room, a gigantic map of the world on the far wall, the arrays of tiny lights to indicate military information were off.

Three bulbs hung slightly above the ground, massive sickly pale green-blue tentacles stretched to the ceiling.

They walked quickly, flashlights lingering on the irregular bodies strewn in various degrees of degradation, mutilation, mutation.

Beams of sunlight poured in through fissures in the next room, the yellowy light refracting off the flowing mass of spores idly bobbing in the chill mountain breeze seeping down. The far side of the room was disalligned, slightly rising above the floor they stepped across.

Looking up at the titanic cracks through the mountain, Ann stated, “seismic nukes.”

Staring out at the blinding light at the end of the large semicircular tunnel, Arseny took deliberate steps past the remains of cars tossed about along the roadway.

A tank rested at the entrance, it’s gun pointing down into the earth, the central turret raised from the body by a thick column of brown, red mossy stuff creeping over the metal plating.

Reaching the entrance to the complex, he looked out at the terrain around him, several narrow circular craters, debris strewn around. In the distance, he could see the remains of a city. A few building stuck up over the green landscape, a central brown cylinder rose up in the middle.

“I’m going to find my house,” Arseny stated, turning to look at Ann and Azita squinting next to him.

“I figured,” Ann responded plainly, nudging a charred tank shell with her foot.

Walking quickly over the dirt, they made their way down the slightly sloping terrain past tiny bushes and scattered slightly burned chunks of material.

A thought but not his own. Something approximating an internal voice but it didn’t use words - a stream of the experience of the concept of meaning filled his brain.

“Arseny akhmatov, You Cannot Kill me In any Meaningful Ways.”

Arseny stared down the sights of his pistol; a small modest brown mushroom stuck up from the dirt in front of him.

“I am A being Beyond Your Singular comprehension. I am Within all And You are Powerless Against Me.”

Tears began to form in the corners of his eyes, weakness creeping up his legs and within his bones.

“There is Nothing Left For You To do.”

Struggling against himself he pulled the trigger. A loud crack escaped the gun as a bullet tore through the tiny mushroom. Suddenly the thought in his mind dissipated, the weakness left, and he wiped the tears clinging to his face.

“The mycelium network must be beneath us,” Azita exclaimed quickly taking a step back, her boot sinking into the debris covered ground.

“What-what the hell,” Arseny got out between shaky gasps.

Quickening his pace, he began running down towards the city. Indistinct shouts bouncing off his ears from behind him.

Ann caught up to him and placed her hand on his shoulder, he stopped and turned his wide eyes to her, breaths shuttering through the respirator clinging to his face.

“Arseny, I don’t know what just happened, but we should head back. That’s enough intel for McFinny. I’m sure they can make more sense of it,” she almost shouted at him.

“No! I didn’t come all this way for fucking McFinny. And you didn’t either,” he screamed back.

“You saw what just happened!”

“I have to find Kayla and the kids. I have to find my family.”

“They’re dead. Look around!”

“Fuck you! I’m going.”

She looked down, sniffled, her eyes tracing the pulsating dirt beneath her boots.

“Fine, Arseny, I’ll come to with you,” she said, wiping her face with her sleeve.

Azita walked up cautiously, hand extended, an assault rifle slung across her chest.

“Are you guys alright?” she asked.

“We’re going to Colorado Springs,” Ann asserted.

“Shit, okay,” Azita sighed.

He turned and began trudging. Ann walked next to him, pistol held tightly in her hands.

Reaching a denser patch of bushes near the city limits, they stepped carefully through, eyes scanning the ground.

“What happened up there,” Azita asked, “I felt something in my mind.”

“I don’t know,” Arseny said, “Something was… talking to me. I somehow understood it was this mushroom. I don’t know what the hell is going on.”

He took a hesitant step over a bush and continued sweeping his pistol sights over the underbrush.

An uneasy sense pulsates deep within him, a nagging pull within.

“Your Family Is here,” a sensation below thought seeped into his mind.

“F-find it!” Arseny shouted, his breath escaping him.

They wildly looked around below the tufty fronds of the mountain plants for whatever was causing this.

“They are Part of Me Now. We are Here.”

Azita stumbled forward, reaching out to grab Ann for stability, but collapsed to the ground, heaving.

Suddenly the experience of Kayla’s voice, a memory of a dream, “I love you,” lingered indefinitely in his mind, blackness closing in on his vision.

A crack of a gunshot; crack, crack.

The world slowly returned, sensations spiraling, Arseny sat down into an uncomfortable bush.

Ann stood, shaking, her finger gripping the trigger of the pistol, smoke flowing from the barrel.

“Val, val,” she muttered to herself.

He looked over at Azita dragging herself up into a seated position, dirt clinging to her uniform.

Looking off at the city, he saw the charred metal skeleton of a building, concrete crumbled around, red gripping the structure. Piles of debris strewn across the streets, dirt and ash nestled about. The upturned bodies of cars glinted in the morning sun.

They walked through the city, through the disordered streets, the suggestion of bodies passing quickly under their gaze. Debris bounced off their boots, clinking away, echoing from the extent walls of crumbling buildings.

Rows of semi-standing identical houses stretched off, resting in various degrees of charred and decayed. White paint, an ashen grey, the neatly trimmed lawns overgrown and brownish, green vines clung to the walls, intermixed with subtle tendrils of red.

Arseny walked off in front, his pistol tucked into the holster, his steps calm.

Coming up to the ruins of a house, he stopped and looked at the sunken frame, the exposed living room, furniture scatted in ashy disarray. Two cars rested in the drive way, their tires popped and the rims rusted, glass shards glinting around them.

He took two steps forwards as Ann and Azita stood behind him.

Ann reached up and met his gaze. She offered a faint smile beneath her respirator and nodded at him, letting her hand slip. Azita stared at the house, the splinted post of the mailbox, the fence along the ground, grass overtaking its worn surfaces, tattered discolored streamers hanging down from the gutters.

He walked into the house, eyes passing over the charred couch, the picture frames on the mantle resting face down in the dirt along the fireplace.

Looking out the empty frames of the sliding glass door, the pool torn, red moss clinging to the remaining vinyl and metal struts, the bench seat, cushions up turned.

The stairs heaved and creaked as he stepped slowly up, clinging to the sighing banister, avoiding the picture frames cluttered on the steps.

He walked into his bedroom, the blankets collected in a heap along the center of the bed as they had been left. Looking out the window he saw Ann explaining something softly to Azita, wiping her cheeks. A faint smile crept to his lips, his eyes moistening as he turned to the bed.

Sinking into the mattress, he dragged his feet up, imagining the cute rage she would have had if he done that before.

He took the picture from the pocket over his heart and looked at it. Fading along the creases, he stared down at it, his cheeks wet, droplets pooling along the respirator.

His thumb ran softly over Mark, Felicity, Suzy. It lingered on Kayla, her smile stretching across her face. His eyes peered into his own. A smile on his face.

The latches of the respirator clunk as he fiddled with it. Hissing gasps from the tubes as he tossed it to his side to rest in the blankets. Bringing the flask to his mouth, he tipped it up and drank it, the alcohol warming him inside.

He closed his eyes as he hugged the picture into his chest, sighing.