Jensen held Roy across his lap while Moira worked. He thought for a while before he answered the computer.
“That’s all incredibly interesting information, Moira. But not really. Let’s prep the ship to leave.”
No answer as Moira dropped one of the spines into an analysis chamber. The chamber’s armored door closed, and white light flashed from the seams. Inside, the sample was incinerated and the gases analyzed.
“Interesting,” Moira said. “Initial analysis shows this material has what we might call a genetic code that contains something similar to mica and an unidentifiable organic base.”
“They’re made of minerals?” Jensen said.
“By our definition, perhaps. It is simply a life form we cannot explain. That’s the closest my databanks can come to an answer. In truth, it’s much more complex. A being that is mostly rock could survive for thousands, perhaps millions of years between meals. Rocks don’t need sustenance.”
“But the other part of them does. Whatever that is,” Jensen said.
“Apparently. I do detect bits of plant life among these samples. As well as bits of you, of course,” Moira replied.
“You said there were possibly plants here before. You think they ate them all and then what, hibernated after that?”
“Perhaps. Normally, if a species experienced a population explosion greater than their food source could support, most of them would die off,” Moira said.
“But if they could hibernate, then they could just... wait for more food to show up,” Jensen said.
“You’re not nearly as ignorant as you first appeared.”
Jensen flipped a middle finger at the ceiling camera.
The last of the crystalline things came out of Roy’s mouth and he hopped off Jensen’s lap and shook himself.
“Go sleep,” he growled/said. The dog slumped off toward their quarters. Roy had a kennel, of course, but he always slept in Jensen’s quarters. Jensen didn’t blame him for wanting to sleep. He felt dog-tired, himself.
“Okay, Moira, let’s get the ship ready for launch. I’m actually looking forward to stasis this time.”
“Get some rest, Jensen. Tomorrow we’ll capture one of those creatures and then we can go back.”
“Hey, I said prep the ship for launch. I’m not goin’ out there again. And since you don’t have any legs, or a body for that matter, looks like ‘we’ are out of luck,” Jensen said.
“I shall remind you that you are an employee of the Interstellar Colonization Committee.”
“I’m a soldier.”
“Even more reason for you to follow orders. I quote, ‘If any physical cause of the plant extinction can be found, a sample shall be returned to Earth.’”
“Yeah, we got samples out the ass. Prep us to launch, Moira.”
“Jensen, these are unique life forms—”
“Fine. I’ll do it myself from Override Control.”
Jensen stood to leave and swayed on his feet. “Damn. All that adrenaline has me dizzy.”
“Jensen, you are violating protocol by launching the ship on your own.”
“They can fire me when I get back.”
With one hand on the wall, Jensen headed for the med bay hatch. It got harder to move by the second. A low growl stopped him cold. Roy stood in the hatch, hackles raised and teeth bared.
“Roy, what the hell are you doing? Off.”
The dog advanced on him, walking stiff-legged, eyes rolling, jaws dripping with drool.
“Roy, off!”
No sign of recognition.
“Jensen, he appears to have been affected by—”
“No shit, Moira!”
Jensen backed away until he had a small table between himself and Roy. Feeling more and more dizzy, Jensen leaned on the table. He knew to take the bite on his forearm when Roy made his move, and reach under to choke the dog out. But would he be able to stay upright long enough to do it?
He took a deep breath to try and clear his head. He drew himself up as tall as possible. The Alpha Dog.
“Roy!” Jensen screamed as loud as he could. “Sit! Now!”
Roy just stared at him, but the growling slowly stopped. He didn’t budge, much less sit.
“Sit, Roy. Now.”
Something seemed to penetrate the brain behind those wild eyes. Roy’s flanks crept toward the deck, millimeters at a time. Finally, he sat.
When Jensen made for the hatch, Roy started to get up.
“No.” Jensen said. “You stay. Me go.”
Finally, Jensen lurched out the door and slapped the control panel. The hatch slid shut, hiding Roy’s baleful stare. Jensen thought his balance would get better on his way to the bridge, but it just got worse. He felt feverish and all the bite wounds on his body started to throb.
Once he got to the main controls, he keyed open the manual operation panel and set the launch order. The drop ship had a built in timer that tracked the best launch window to rendezvous with the Skip-Ship in orbit out there. The screen read 7:48:32 and counting. A little less than eight hours and they’d be home free.
Once they launched, everything was automatic. Back up into the belly of the Skip-Ship and into stasis. A few months of sleep until they hit the Skip Gate in this corner of the Universe. Then they’d blip into existence just on the far side of Saturn for the final glide home.
His stomach suddenly hitched and he threw up all over his boots.
“Jensen? Are you feeling ill?” Moira said. Her voice sounded tinny and faraway.
“No shit, Moir—”
The deck swam up to meet him and he fell into the blackest sleep he’d ever known. He dreamt of whispering voices speaking a language he could never hope to understand.
Seemed hot in his sleeping quarters. And his bed felt rock hard.
With a start, Jensen awoke on the steel deck of the bridge. Sweat soaked the fabric of his jumpsuit and his mouth felt like a dry riverbed.
“Moira, what happened?” He could hardly force the words out. He stood, keeping one hand on the wall.
“Moira?”
The eerie silence threatened to release a wild panic he could feel building in his belly. Jensen reached for his rifle... Not there. Now how in the hell did that happen?
The emergency weapons locker stood open. Everything gone. That made his heart start to hammer. Black dots swam in his vision and Jensen couldn’t tell if it was adrenaline or the poison from the creatures.
Well, maybe not poison. He did wake up. Moira would be proud of him for figuring that out. Whatever it was had kept him down long enough to make him mica-hedgehog food if he’d been in the open. Their little bites weren’t intended to kill, apparently. They just put you to sleep so you could be eaten alive.
When he gathered his wits enough to check the control screens, he saw why Moira hadn’t answered him. Coolant alarms were blaring red bands across all the screens, but the sound had been muted. Someone—something had screwed with the cooling system that kept Moira’s giant computer brain alive.
The ‘dumb’ backup systems that ran the ship’s operations had survived. That was a relief. The countdown to launch read 15:42 and counting.
He’d been out for over seven hours.
Jensen checked all systems and saw that the lower hatch was stuck open. Security cameras showed a rock jammed in the track.
Unarmed, Jensen felt exposed when he got to the hatch. He grabbed a fire extinguisher, a poor weapon really, but the weight of it made him feel better. He was relieved to discover an actual rock jamming the door, not one of the creatures curled up in the track. He didn’t need his extinguisher/club.