Star Trek: Erin

Part 33: Itsy Bitsy Spider

     I turned towards the door. "Let's go, Acker."

     "Good luck, kid!" yelled the old guy.

     There was a scuffling sound as Acker caught up with me. By unspoken consensus we broke into a steady jog. I was trying my best not to think about being crushed to death in the plant tubes.

     Just pretend you're at the Academy. Where people getting crushed only happened when someone messed up big time.

     "Are you—are you afraid of anything, lieutenant?"

     I glanced at Acker, who looked on the verge of passing out. He needs honesty to keep it together. I gave him a tense smile. "The ocean." It was true. I'd face the deepest, darkest reaches of space, but the ocean? Nope. Doesn't matter which ocean. What lives down there shouldn't exist.

     Speaking of things that shouldn't exist, we reached the scary bulb I'd emerged from. The edges of the red film were turning the colour of dried blood, but a faint breeze was definitely coming from the pitch-black hole in the back.

     "I guess when the wind stops, I die, huh?" I said, climbing in.

     Acker scuffed the floor with a boot. "Do you... want me to come?"

     He really didn't want to come. I grinned. "Who's going to tell my awesome story if I get paninied in there? You're going to be fine, Acker. And hey, when we see Lata, I'll let you punch her first for throwing you off the satellite."

     The scientist cracked the tiniest of smiles. "Looking forward to it."

     I saluted him and shimmied into the tube.

     I'm not claustrophobic. On a spaceship, you're basically drifting an infinite vacuum in a tin can. But there's a limit anyone can endure. And having moist, squishy walls gently squeezing my sides gave me the distinct feeling of being in a digestive tract.

     Blindly I crawled.

     "I met someone today, Erin."

     "Isn't that your job?" I'd looked up from the Starfleet Academy pamphlets and seen Marth's expression. "Oh, they were pretty?"

     She'd given it serious thought. "Not bad, but damn he was smart. And sweet."

     "Cool."

     "We got talking about the development of words and—"

     I'd snorted. "You talk linguistics all the time, you don't have to dumb it down for me."

     Marth had folded her arms. "Yeah? Well, he had fascinating ideas on why Klingon doesn't have any velar plosives. Get this." She'd started unconsciously bouncing on her heels, eyes alight. "His idea is that it used to, before Klingons without forehead ridges started appearing. He thinks something changed, a virus maybe, and that it may have affected them more than losing the ridges, maybe changing them internally, making it a lot harder to use the soft palette when talking, and the language adapted so everyone could continue to be understood. Beautiful, don't you think? He needs to find Klingons for proof though, and my work may be able to make that happen. I'm considering offering to help him out, but I need to know a bit more about him and how he does things before that."

     Her enthusiasm was infectious, and I'd learned the basics of Klingon from her. It really was a fascinating language and culture. I'd grinned. "That's actually super cool."

     "I know, right? I have trouble finding people who don't treat Klingon like a disease language. I invited him to the Caitian phonetics conference next week, which he was probably going to anyway, but... you know..."

     I'd propped my head on my hand and let a slow smile build. "You like him, huh? What's his name?"

     "Uriel Kivik."

     The breeze briefly disappeared, and dread slammed me back into the present. I continued crawling, tilting my face upwards, hoping it wasn't all over. The stench of compost was strengthening around me. There. The slightest wind fluttered against my cheeks. I gritted my teeth and doubled my pace.

     Suddenly, my reaching hand punched a spongy wall. I felt my way upwards, shivering as the walls gripped my shoulders tighter. My heart lurched and I shoved forwards, scrambling up the tube. Thank god for the Academy. Besides the grueling academics, they had us climbing walls like spiders and keeping our footing on the most unsteady surfaces, so I had enough upper body strength to haul myself up the tube.

     Which was when I remembered exactly where the tube should lead. Where Plant-Me and Gabriel had fallen. Where the ceiling had collapsed.

     But there's wind. It has to go somewhere... right? I forced myself to breathe slower. You're not dead yet. A bunch of scientists are counting on you.

     I kept climbing, silently cursing my lapse in memory and listening to the distant crashing sounds below and far behind me.

     The walls were tight around my shoulders. Instinctual panic gathered in my stomach, growing stronger with each metre travelled. I can't go much farther, I realized.

     Which was when I saw light. It was dim, only letting me see the wall's outline and a nearby section of tube that obviously used to lead somewhere but was crushed by concrete. I struggled forward, my neck aching with tension.

     The light grew stronger, spilling into the tunnel from a beautiful—but shrinking—hole. I grinned as I hauled myself into the open air. Startling contrast made me squint. Then I threw back my head, and laughed. "Fuck you, plant tube!"

     I sobered quickly, taking in my new surroundings. Still light left in the Biflora III day, thankfully. My gaze travelled up. A mess of rebar, concrete, and snarled pale plants gripped the pit I'd emerged in the side of. The hole Gabriel and I fell down. I grinned. Tube must've rerouted itself.

     Flipping open my communicator, my grin widened. "Tetra, it's me."

     I counted four seconds before she replied. "Cobos? How are—Where are you? Gabriel said you died."

     "Well, I survived. Made it back to the hole in the atrium. What's the situation?"

     "Terraforming field just dropped. Survivors and Gabriel were beamed back to the ship for decontam. Send your coordinates so you can be beamed up. The four of us are finishing a final sweep." She paused. "From what I heard from Gabriel, I'm expecting General Order 24."

     "Yeah, tell them to hold off on that. I found the rest of the survivors. Sending their coordinates. And the plants, they're alive. They make perfect copies of people. That's who Gabriel saw get murdered."

     This time there was a six second pause. "That's—alright. I'll let them know. We'll rendezvous with you at the atrium. Over."

     "Acknowledged. Out." I gave myself a moment to breathe. God, Gabriel beamed up with my murderers. Hope she's okay. And the survivors... they should still be fine unless someone's strangling Aetos, but I'm not there so her chances are good.

     Well, up we go. I rolled my neck and started the climb.