Paradigm Shift

Chapter 5

Taylor's heart raced as his mind went through all the possibilities of escape. He slowly walked down the hall he was directed to; the door at the end coming closer and closer—too close—until he reached the thick metal door. It hissed and made a clanking sound before opening, revealing the spacious cockpit. Before him, windows of great size revealed the expansive black nothingness and Dr. Watson gazing upon the canvas.

"Doctor, you. . .wanted to see me?" Taylor slowly asked—almost hesitantly.

"Yes," Dr. Watson boomed, "Arty tells me there is an imposter among us." Taylor gulped.

"But. . ." He continued, "I'm sure he's just nervous about newcomers. After all, Rachel invited you and your partner from the A-23 team out of. . .well, let's just say she needed more engineers for some absurd reason." Dr. Watson slowly walked up to Taylor until he was in his face, menacingly spatting as he whispered, "don't make me call back to Tokyo reporting pirates have boarded my ship. That, or I'll leave your for dead on one of the neighboring, uninhabited planets."

Taylor moved his eyes to the control panel where a distress signal was already pinging, and by the looks of it, for a while.

Dr. Watson never contacted home base. He couldn't have because no one was responding back. They were stuck in space where no one could hear them scream. The bastard was bluffing.

—-

Even after the talk with Dr. Watson, Taylor immediately ransacked the doctors quarters after he left to find Artemis Watson's blueprints. The separate section of the ship was extremely fancy with a bar, small dining area and lounge with a wide screen covering the back wall. It was a beautiful, calm and creamy white with the orange booze contrasting it gorgeously with wavering spots of blood orange on the ceiling.

After digging through the doctors things, Taylor found a computer, and after logging in, downloaded the schematics to his flash drive. It wasn't until the big television screen in the living space went black and green text scrawled across the screen made him feel utterly alone:

In medbay you are to download Artemis Watsons software and send it to us. You have 48 hours to comply or it's bye bye to Titan.

—-

Taylor made his way back to medbay where Artemis was already there typing something into his tablet.

"Ah, Mr. Taylor, I see you've reconsidered your—" Taylor grabbed the oxygen tank by the examination table and swung it with two hands at Artemis's head.

A loud thump muffled from the canister, and the android's head twisted a hundred and eighty degrees, ripping the grafted skin around his neck before he fell to the floor unmoving.

Taylor immediately reached for his off switch on the back of his neck and flipped him over before he cut a sliver of his skin off. He reached back into his pocket for the butter knife and sliced through the grafted skin: it punchered with a squirting noise before he carefully cut through to the hypodermis like meat. Between the two flaps of skin, Taylor found the USB port and plugged in his flash drive. He waited for a while to make sure the information was uploaded before he turned Artemis back on, however, when Taylor flipped the switch, all he did was twitch: his head slightly jerking about and his hands clenching uncontrollably.

He was having a seizure!

Taylor panicked and ran out of the room before anything else could happen. He closed the door behind him, took a deep, yet stiff breath, straitened his suit, and started down the hall like nothing ever happened.

—-

"Taylor, I don't think I've properly introduced you to the crew." Dr. Watson returned back to the cafeteria after his stern talk with Taylor—he was smiling and chatting with Celene and Rachel. Taylor nodded at Celene.

"I see you two have met?" Dr. Watson mocked.

"Yes—uh before launch," Taylor muttered and carefully nodded his head again. Celene squirmed in her seat, not wanting or even trying to make eye contact.

"Anyways," Dr. Watson moved on, "you know Rachel, the Captain, Celene Anders, our engineer, we also have David Peterson: biology, George Smith is a geologist, Dr. Sydnee is the medical doctor—" Dr. Watson moved between the few people that sat about the small cafeteria, "—and. . .Jackson, although, he isn't here at the moment." Dr. Watson turned back to Taylor who furiously repeated the names in his head.

"Dr. Watson," Rachel excused herself from the table, strode to the trash chute by the counter, and exited the room.

—-

Will Jackson, the physicist, carried in his arms a tablet full of notes about solar winds that recently flared up—a storm that could destroy all contact with earth. He was on his way to medbay where Dr. Sydnee should have been to discuss the possible fatalities of radiation poisoning from the solar winds. However, she wasn't there.

When Jackson opened the door, he found a lifeless, metallic body splayed across the white plastic chair with its arms stretched to the side and hands with palms facing upwards. The head, however, was turned around so the nose pointed to the floor behind the chair. It's chin hooked onto the backside of the chair, holding the body in place. Other than that, the body was completely limp.

Jackson didn't think twice about the monstrosity—because it was only Artemis Watson, the android—when he ripped out the usb drive and powered him up. But Artemis didn't move or hum awake, rather his consciousness was completely wiped.

As Jackson began to work out why Artemis wasn't booting up, the humanoid twisted his head slowly back around to face Jackson with a harsh metallic screech from the friction. Then, unnaturally fast, he opened his eyes, and Jackson jumped.

"Arty, Jesus Christ, what the hell happened to you—" He blinked once. Twice.

Then, his hand quickly snapped to Jackson's throat, choking him. He moved forward, pressing Jackson against the slick wall.

Jackson gaged and scratched at Artemis's hand for him to let go. His grip tightened every time Jackson tried to move his head. His spine popped and cracked under the pressure of the android's tightened grip. Reaching into his trousers, Jackson unsheathed his pocket knife and started stabbing the lifeless form. Stiffly, the blade raked across the contorted face—Shreds of skin dangled off his face like stiff meat hanging up to dry and was matted and wet with the red glue that put him together.

Artemis gripped tighter and tighter and tighter until Jackson's face turned red, then purple, and then a weird blue; his eyes turning red from popped blood vessels—and then Jackson dropped his knife, brought his hands to Artemis's, and—

He slowly relaxed like a rag doll, and Artemis dropped him to the floor. His head banged against the counter on his way down, rolled off, and thumped as he crumpled to the floor all twisted up like a well baked pretzel.