Excerpt
Outpost Epsilon
By
Herbert Grosshans
Chapter One
Terrex Stonewall shouldered his huge
duffle bag, which held his meager possessions, and stepped from the
shuttle onto the alien soil. Taking a deep breath, he inhaled the
hot, humid air, registering unfamiliar scents and finding them not
as unpleasant as he’d been told.
The door of the shuttle irised shut
behind him, cutting off his way back should he change his mind about
this new assignment, and he moved further away as the small shuttle
lifted into the air. It rose then disappeared into the low hanging
clouds.
Although he had been briefed, it
still came as a surprise to see the giant mushrooms surrounding him.
He walked slowly across the cleared area toward the enormous bubble
that would be his home for the next year.
He knew what to expect.
Life on an outpost was not a
holiday. Neither did it mean hardship, not usually. His job, as a
scout for the Solar Union, would be to keep watch over this area of
space and report any intrusion into the system.
They did not tell him why this
particular outpost was so important. Epsilon happened to be the
fourth planet in a solar system at the edge of controlled Human
Space. There wasn’t much here, as far as Stonewall knew. Nothing
anyone would want, unless you liked mushrooms.
The shrill cry of an animal hastened
his steps toward the dome. Before he reached it, an opening appeared
in the smooth surface of the bubble, and a man in the drab brown
uniform of the Union stepped out.
“No canvassing allowed.” The man
burst out laughing when he saw Stonewall’s perplexed expression.
Holding out a hand, he said, “You must be Terrex Stonewall. I am
William Peters. Welcome to Hell.”
“Hell?” Stonewall said. Then he
nodded and grinned, suddenly aware of the wet fabric of his uniform
clinging to his perspiring body. “It is damned hot.”
“Come inside.” The other man stepped
back into the dome.
Stonewall followed him and stood
silent for a moment, breathing in the cool air. Behind him, the door
closed with a barely audible whoosh.
From the outside, the surface of the
dome looked opaque, but standing inside, he could see the sky above
and the forest of mushrooms as clearly as if the shell didn’t exist.
“Pretty clever,” he commented.
“It is. Don’t ask me how it’s done.
I’m not a scientist. Something about bending the light waves.”
“You even have a garden,” Stonewall
observed.
“That and more. Makes living on this
hell-hole almost bearable.” Peters pointed to a squat building.
“Those are our sleeping quarters. The kitchen and mess hall are over
there. That ugly structure behind the kitchen houses the observation
screens, computers and detection systems. Below it, underground, is
the power grid. We call that building the Power-building.” He
grinned. “Very original, don’t you agree? You’ll be spending most of
your time in there.”
Stonewall saw a couple of figures
moving around in the garden. Peters noticed his interest. “Don’t
worry,” he said, laughing. “You won’t have to work in the garden.
Those are work-drones. Robots.”
Stonewall grinned. “You had me
worried there for a moment. I’m not a farmer.”
“Speaking of farmers,” Peters said,
“there is the Chief right now. His name is…”
“Derrol Farmer. I know.” Stonewall
smiled.
The tall man who came walking toward
them, looked gaunt, like someone who hadn’t slept or eaten for days.
“So, you’re the new guy,” he said with a grating voice, giving
Stonewall a tight smile.
“The name’s Terrex Stonewall, sir.”
“I’m aware of that. Call me Chief.
We are not that formal around here.” Farmer pointed at Stonewall’s
duffel bag. “What did you bring with you? I hope all that stuff fits
into your locker.” He stared at Peters. “Show him his bunk and
introduce him to the others.”
Peters tipped his non-existent
helmet in a sloppy salute. “Will do, Chief.”
Farmer turned and walked away.
“Is he always in this cheerful
mood?” Stonewall asked when he was out of earshot.
Peters chuckled. “Not always. Today
is one of his better days.” He punched Stonewall on the arm. “Come,
I’ll show you to your executive suite.”
He took Stonewall to the dormitory
and showed him his bunk. “Here we are. Your lavish quarters for the
next year.” He grinned. “Just throw your stuff on the bed. You can
stow it away later. It’s almost noon, but before we go for lunch, I
want you to see your new workplace.”
When they entered the
Power-building, Terrex smelled the sterile air, like the air in a
hospital ward. “These instruments are quite delicate. They don’t
like dust or temperature fluctuations. Better put on one of the lab
coats.” Peters handed him a white coat. Then they walked down a
short tunnel and through a door into a large room full of computers
and electronic devices.
“Transmissions from the satellites
circling Epsilon,” Peters said, pointing at the screens covering one
wall. They displayed images of stars and empty space.
Only four of the computer terminals
were occupied. One of the men looked up when Peters approached.
“Hey, Peters,” he said. Glancing at Stonewall, he nodded. “The new
guy?”
“Yep. Terrex Stonewall meet Ferd
Prowler. He’s the supervisor on this shift. He’ll be your
supervisor.”
“Hey, Stonewall,” Prowler said.
“Welcome to Shithole. I hope you’ll be happy here.”
Stonewall smiled and lifted his
hand. “Hey.”
Prowler’s expression turned serious,
and he looked at Peters. “Better call the Chief. I’ve lost contact
with Wong and Maisoneuve.”
“What the fuck are you saying?”
“I’m saying that I’ve lost contact
with Wong and Maisoneuve, you dimwit. The beacon of the rover died
an hour ago, and I can’t raise them on their personal comm. Haven’t
been able for a couple of days now, but I thought maybe their comms
were faulty. We’ve been having trouble with them for quite some time
now. I didn’t think anything of it.”
“Fuck it!” Peters cursed again. “The
Chief won’t be happy.” He grabbed Stonewall’s arm. “Come with me.
Maybe your presence will keep him from executing me on the spot for
being the bearer of bad news.”
“What happened?” Stonewall asked as
he walked beside Peters.
“A few days ago we tracked an
intruder into the system. A small ship of unknown origin. We got a
fairly good image of it as it passed one of our surveillance drones.
It traveled much too fast as it entered the ionosphere of this
planet. And the angle was wrong, too. It crashed not far from here.
We sent out two of our people to search for the ship and see if
there were any survivors. They’ve been out there now for three
days.”
He glanced at Stonewall. “This place
might look peaceful and exotic with all those giant mushrooms, like
a scene out of a fairy tale, but believe me, appearances are
deceiving, literally. Danger lurks everywhere. On the ground and in
the air. Even underground. You don’t want to be caught out there
without a protective suit and a flash-rifle in each hand.”
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